Fucking Hell man.
Solomon's show (now titled "Draft Dodgers of the 21st Century"), Capitol Club. Danielle, Solomon and I are gonna perform, Danielle hosts, Corbet goes up, David Cope closes. Easy right? Until David doesn't show up and seems confused that we're calling him. Danielle finally gets through to him and he remembers he has a show. To his credit he jumps into a cab and gets there in time. But he was bringing the microphones and couldn't now. Luckily I had one, but no chord. Luckily the sound guy had one, but no connector to the mixer. Luckily my friend Dean had one, but he lived on 12th, which was six blocks away, uphill. I ran.
I need more exercise.
If David didn't show up I'd have to do a half-hour set and had no idea what to do. So I put together a set of new shit that I didn't do last time. Danielle, Solomon and I were all flustered about the pre-show drama and oh yeah, everyone's at Bumbershoot so the audience was light. We held for a bit and people showed up. We got started.
The audience was quiet and Danielle had a rough time with them as she was distracted by production shit. Solomon went up and had a rough time as he was distracted by production shit. I probably would've had a rough time too, but since they went up first I had just enough time to clear my head so I could rock the crowd. I'm glad for that time because my set ended up going very well. Intermission. Corbet went up and had a good set. David closed and fucking killed like we knew he would.
In the midst of all of this EVEN MORE dramatic shit went down in the form of a horrible miscommunication between Solomon and another party. So AFTER the show Danielle and I have to do what we can to diffuse and clear up the situation. It took some work but I think everything is cool.
This is why I don't want to work in production right now. To much stress that stands in the way of comedy. I had a show opportunity thrown at me and it occurs I don't want it because a)too many fucking show already and b) I don't want to be a producer, I want to be a comic. Not only do I want to be a comic but I want to be a great comic. Dealing with fucking drama stands in the way of being that and it simply isn't worth it. I want to tell jokes, and then I want to tell jokes, and then I want to tell jokes. End. Of. Fucking. Story.
There was a very selfish part of me that was upset that I couldn't just celebrate that I had a really good set that night. That way danger leads. If I start trying to get caught up in how good I'm doing, I lose sight of way more important shit that deserves and requires much more of my attention. I found this out the hard way. It's so not worth it. A good set is in the past. The next set is in the future. Don't ever close your eyes to what's happening right now.
Lesson: Drama is never worth the effort.
Backup lesson: Keep your eyes off of yourself and keep 'em on your loved ones. If you don't have loved ones, it's because you lost sight of this lesson.