If It's Not Love, Then It's The Bomb (That Will Bring Us Together)!

It's been a minute since I had something to say here.  I've been in an emotional trough along the sine wave of life.  It happens.  I did a club show in Las Vegas that didn't go well.  Then a show at a weed club in Vegas that didn't go well.  It was a combination of things. 

It was a club gig and I'm used to New York and LA and Seattle.  Vegas crowds are different.  I walked in and knew that none of my material was going to go over well, so instead of doing my "tight five," I just did the five minutes I wanted.  It was a good set by my standards, but the audience didn't laugh as much as they should, so in that way, it was a bad set.  I'm not one to blame an audience though.  I went back to my hotel determined to "fix" the material so that it cold appeal to anyone.  It's a hard line to tow, you want to be as funny as you can to as many people as you can, because you're a comedian, and that's your job.  You also don't want to find yourself doing material you don't believe in. 

I did fix it.  I found the solution to the problem.  I'd go into details here, but I don't want to burn it. 

All the same I walked out thinking, "I should have tried my tight five, as it stands, this club will never book me again." 

That one I sat with.

Then I did a show at a weed club.  It sounds good.  The problem with people that are stoned is that they laugh on the inside, it takes a minute.  My material is a bit too rapid fire.  Not going to blame the audience there either though.  I went home determined to fix this problem too.  And I did.

I want to be as strong as possible, to be able to work under any conditions. 

Still there's nothing quite like bombing.  I knew that it was coming, so I'm glad it's over, but holy shit! It can really do a number on you existentially.  I was bummed for weeks.  I only went up twice in that time, when I normally go up every night.  I was gun shy. 

Last night I did a set at the Comedy Store and it went well, really well.  It was healing.  I woke up this morning and did my pages for my novel, jogged, updated the site, wrote this missive.  It's like Vegas had loosened my plug from the socket and last night someone pushed it back in to the wall. 

So I guess I really am a comic.  I get kind of crazy if I don't do it.