Today, I did two mics and a show that all went well.   But I also had an “audition” for the Creek and the Cave, where I believe they’re still scrubbing my baby diarrhea off the walls.  I felt like I was 2 months into comedy and the audience had ripped off my genitals, and then tossed them around like a beach ball just out of reach while I chased after my manhood, holding back the tears and squealing, “Guys!?!”  Maybe it wasn’t that bad.  In retrospect, my jokes did alright, just my pure embarrassment while onstage was annoying.

All I know, is I looked into the audience, and it was just 25 comics I respected.  It was exactly where I pictured myself being (ideally with more than zero non-comics), but I didn’t think it would happen this soon.  There were so many people at this “show” that I semi-delusionally thought I could impress into being my friends.  Like, this was a show of Comedy Central and future Comedy Central people, and I was somehow allowed on it.  I felt really guilty that I was there.  I felt guilty that some of the people I’d started to meet at the open mics and had been around longer weren’t there.  I felt guilty that all these funny people had to hear me speak while I got to listen to them.  Again, in retrospect, that’s a dumb thing to feel.  I have funny things to say, even if they aren’t as developed as some of the other comics, but it’s how I felt in the moment.  Sometimes I over-think things.

I’m learning I need to get better at pushing through a set when things aren’t going great, as opposed to freaking out and doing more than whatever my “act” is.  At the same time, how do you get better if you don’t flail around for something to grasp?  Who knows?

The only place I could get to feel this insecure around such great people is in New York or LA.  Its really motivating in an odd way.  Because as much as I was approaching a level of shame where I might actually start crying (it took about 5 minutes), this will motivate me for months to really focus and get better.  I’m only 3 1/2 years in.  I know I need to keep improving.  But sometimes you get lost in routine and don’t have a goal or an endgame in mind, and you sort of mindlessly sift through mediocre material and not really edit it enough or make it better.  I need to perform more, and write more.  I’m finally gonna bite the bullet and start filming my all my sets, even though I hate watching myself.  I’m not gonna let this happen again.

…I was done with this post, but I’m in a McDonald’s, sitting in a booth with a crazy homeless man for unknown reasons.  He said there weren’t other seats when there are clearly are.  He said he wouldn’t bother me, although he’s definitely singing not-the-words to whatever emo song Micky D’s has decided this demographic of New Yorkers enjoy.  There’s also a couple nearby that just uttered the phrase “Homo the Musical.”  They aren’t being ironic.  It’s a production one of them is apparently in.  The homeless man just took unidentifiable pills in front of me.  I’m leaving now…

Eddie Brill, the now former booker of the stand up slots on Letterman, was fired for making it clear he thought about female comics slightly differently than he thought about male comics.  There’s been a debate within the comedy community regarding women in comedy, and what role sexism plays in keeping women from being funny.  From my biased man-beast perspective, I’d say men and women are equally capable of being funny, but there are definitely fewer funny women, then there are funny men (currently).  A lot of this is a numbers game, in that way more men than women attempt comedy.

Some weird things came up when I discussed it with some of my more open-minded, male comic friends.  “Nothing is keeping women from coming to open mics and working hard.  It’s about wanting it,” was one idea brought up.  I feel like there’s way more obstacles to a woman becoming funny than a man.  Dave Chappelle and Bill Hicks started hanging out at comedy clubs when they were 14.  By themselves.  Could you imagine parents letting their 14 year-old girl hang out at a comedy club alone?  Most open mics in New England are in dive-ish bars that are way more conducive to a young dude doing well than a lady.  How many old Bostonians are gonna stop watching the game to here some girl’s jokes?  Being funny is a skill, built upon an entire life of working on it whether you meant to or not.  Little girls are encouraged to laugh at jokes, not make them.

Also, several of my male friends didn’t apply to the Women in Comedy Festival because they felt it was weird to be associated with it.  It seemed like they’d feel emasculated, which sorta blew my mind.  It’s a really cool festival about proving the status quo wrong.  About taking the dumb stereotype that women aren’t funny and saying, “Fuck you.”  That’s comedy’s ultimate purpose.  How could you not want to be associated with that?  Do you understand?  I’m a great person who’s changing the world!!  That and, for someone like myself who seems to be booked by mostly women in New York, it makes a lot of sense for the connections.

There are funny women out there, unfortunately some of the funniest aren’t viewed as marketable enough commodities to be put on television.  So many of the women the public sees are attractive and good enough.  They all worked their asses off to get to that position, but “attractive” keeps eyes around for the Coke commercials more than “funny.”  And any TV show’s number one job is to keep viewers around for the thing that makes them money.  That adds to the stereotype that women aren’t funny.  The funniest women don’t get a ton of exposure, while the more attractive, less funny, produce two sitcoms simultaneously.

It’s changing though.  From running a show in Boston, I can see it happening.  There are jokes the female comics tell that I don’t really get, and the male audiences members don’t get, but the ladies in the audienc love.  Women have more and more money, and eventually economics will take over and women will burst into the comedy spotlight.  Probably in 5 to 10 years.  There just needs to be a funny, relatable, marketable, kick-ass women to get on TV and break it open.  Sarah Silverman opened the door for the hot female comic who’s crude.  Some day soon, a female comic who crushes will appear under the banner, “Not the same boring man-comedy.”  It has been prophesied (by a man).

My only point is, men are currently funnier than women.  It’s changing slowly, but only from incredibly strong women pushing through.  Some people say a funny woman is unnattractive, but for me, if a woman can joke, it’s a sign that she’s a risk taker who’s actually experienced some level of adversity in her life.  You have to risk bombing to be funny, on a stage or in life.  I looooove a funny women.  And America’s slowly learning to as well.

Hannibal just works stuff out there.  Constantly.  And when something goes wrong, he knows he has the ability to win them back, so he doesn’t care.  He wants everyone to have a good time, but doesn’t care what the audience wants to hear, whether or not a bit is working, anything (I may be glorifying this a bit, but he made an impression).  I saw him have bits that people weren’t on board with for a while, and then he worked through them until he found the funny in it.  He just kept pushing through until the laughs happened.  It didn’t matter, he was just working on what he wanted.

The past few months I’ve been beating myself up a bit, mentally.  I feel like a lot of my comedy strategies have been wrong now (a lot have been right too).  For one, one of my ideas of what comedy was, was having a bit for every occasion.  However the show’s going, you can interchange bits, move them back and forth, adjust to the audience.  That’s wrong.  Don’t shape yourself to the audience, shape them to you. 

I’ve been too concerned about the audience.  Particularly if they’re comics.  Everyone wants their peers to like them, but I would try choose bits during the set, depending on how the people were reacting.  I’d just do jokes once or twice in front of the same people and then kill myself with worry about having enough new material for repeat crowd members.  Terrible plan.  It’s actually reminiscent of how my actual personality developed during my teens.  I wanted everyone to like me, so I’d just reflect the values of the people around me, and when two people would have conflicting ideas I’d look like an idiot trying to agree with both.

I also worry so much about being “original” or “saying something.”  Again, I think that’s a symptom of wanting people’s approval.  In a way, Carrot Top may be one of the most original acts of all time, but no one treats him as such.  Originality is something to strive for, but not something worth developing self-hatred for.  I would just see flaws in everything I wrote, hating bits for not having the quality of people 20 years into stand up, rather than just three.  I’d start writing something I thought was hacky, and then just give up on it, forgetting that sometimes your associations start unoriginal before you put the pieces together to make them unique. 

The great comics seem to give off this aura of “This is what we’re talking about.”  Like a suave man who orders a meal for his date, knowing she’ll enjoy it.  As opposed to my energy, which has been, “This is what I’m planning on talking about, but if you guys have different ideas, I’m up for whatever!?”  People paid to hear what I have to say (also to laugh, probably), so I should just say it if I think it’s funny.  The owner of The Comedy Studio, Rick Jenkins, has told me this several times, and now I think finally I get it.

So I only got onstage 6 times in the four days I was out here, which part of me feels like that’s wasteful of my New York time, but mentally I needed it.  Also, it’s fun to write something like that thinking how when I started, I’d be excited if I got up 6 times in a week.  Now I probably sound odd going, “Only performed 6 times in four days.  Really taking it easy.”  I’ve always been a person who enjoyed pushing himself, seeing what I was capable of.  For me, it’s very rewarding to get up as many times as possible, but I’m trying to follow through on my new goal of giving myself a break occasionally.

One of the best and worst aspects of Boston is how insular it is.  There’s this great, supportive community of friends to hang out with, and that’s fun.  But they also frown upon doing multiple spots a night, and expect you to hang out, drink, and be supportive rather than work on getting better at comedy.  It’s so funny, because the same people who get upset about comics doing multiple sets in a night, also complain about the level of performance that currently exhists in Boston comedy. 

So I practically fell over when I got my first spot at Broadway (I was awarded it by doing well at their open mic), and they told me, “You’ll be on at the end of the 8:30 show, so just make sure you’re here by 9:45.”  Oh my God!  I can go be productive with my time instead of either talking with the other comics or hiding by the emergency exit and trying to write!?!  The almost falling over could have been because all the blood in my body rushed towards my genitals.  Mostly filling my balls.  I don’t know why I would write that.

Anyway, I showed up at 9:45 for my spot, and had to wait in the cafe just outside the show.  I was horrified by who they were barking in for 10 o’clock performance.  An angry tranny.  An angry drunk white couple.  An angry drunk black couple.  All very-few-of-them were intoxicated and furious, “This better be funny!  Drinks cost what!?  Who’s on this show!?  Is this the whole audience!?  I’m not attracted to you, tranny!!!  I am!!  Why aren’t you hitting on me!?!”  It was an audience that clearly was going to end some comic’s career and/or life.  I was a little down, and really couldn’t take another shit-show.  So my turn comes to go onstage and get my first peek of what’s in store for me, and as the door cracks open, this wave of relief washes over me.  There’s 13 exhausted people – something that could actually be fun!  I killed it for my five minutes, roused them into a light smattering of applause, and got offstage.  It was beautiful.  I needed it to be good so badly. 

I was gonna check out Whiplash at UCB from there, but I ran into Justin Morgan (an awesome comic from Atlanta), Boston’s own Jason Marcus, and a sketch-writer named Dan (who I assume is great and from somewhere).  They were going to have drinks nearby, so I joined them, and it was the best decision I’ve made in weeks.  So much fun hanging out.  Marc Maron’s podcast got brought up a few times, which is virtually a requirement if comics are talking to each other now.  Like saying grace before dinner for people going to heaven.  Dan mentioned one piece of advice where someone likened stand up to pottery: “You can spend your whole life trying to perfect one pot, or you can make a new pot every day and probably make some really shitty pots, but you’re bound to make a few great ones as well, even if by complete accident.”  That really hit home for me.  Nothing matters other than doing it.  You just keep trying differnt stuff and throwing things out.  I’ve always been so worried about creating a meaningful body of work.  I can’t really control how meaningful my jokes are.  All I can do is keep creating and hope it’ll work out.  Part of what gives stand up value is that not everyone can do it.  So however my comedy career goes, it’ll either be meaningful for me, or my failure will help make it meaningful for someone else.  Philosophy!

I’ve always felt out-of-place.  Since I was little, there have been so many thoughts of, “Why are people doing this?  It doesn’t make any sense!”  But when you’re the only person saying behavior is insane, by logic, what are the chances that you’re right and everyone else is wrong?  That’s where The Simpsons, and The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report, and South Park all made me feel better.  Anything where the authority figures were usually wrong.  It’s cliché, but it really was like oxygen to a person who’s drowning.  Just an, “Oh thank God, I’m not insane!”  One of my favorite lyrics is from a Queens of the Stone Age song, “Better Living Through Chemistry.”  There’s a line “There’s no one here, and people everywhere, you’re all alone.”  It’s dead on.  But at some point, if events repeat themselves in different situations, the only constant is you.  It’s some attitude I have. And I think it’s my mindset of always looking for flaws. 

I’ve been a perfectionist as long as I can remember. I’ve developed this thought pattern of constantly projecting things out into the future to see where things could go wrong, in order to guard against that.  In sports terms, it’s called a “prevent defense” or “playing not to lose.”  Almost everything I do is avoidant.  Yet I value learning the most in life, and know I learn the most when things go wrong.  Failure stings, and I can’t forget it.  I have to use energy to imagine how things could go right.  And that’s what I need to do now.  Above comedy, is to develop not a more positive attitude, but a more realistic view of the future.  One that sees where things could go both positively and negatively from any one decision.  At the same time, my life and mindset have improved since high school.  Eighteen year-old me would be excited with this modern incarnation of Thomas Alan Dunlap.  And every once in a while I need to remind myself of that.

I feel like so much of my work ethic stems from fear.  Maybe that’s what work ethic is.  I did well in school because I enjoyed it, but also because I hated my hometown at the time, and thought I’d get to college, which would finally solve all my problems.  Then in college, under the false assumption that anyone can do anything if they work hard enough, I put all my energy towards being a professional pitcher and injured myself.  Now I’d say for about 2 years straight I’ve been writing virtually every day, and when you first start doing it, you see a ton of improvement, then it tapers off and it seems like you suck because you’re still improving, but not at the rapid rate you were when you made that significant change. 

It’s very reminiscent of what I learned about working out.  When you first start, you see results quickly, because you’re body is rapidly reorganizing to deal with this new environmental stress.  Then the results become significantly less rapid, because your body has adjusted to the routine. Then your brain and your body usually become bored, which is when a lot of people stop working out.  The ideal approach to muscle growth is, right after the peak of the initial cycle of improvement, to change your workout completely until the peak of the next cycle and repeat.  Of course, as creatures of habit, we resist this too, but it’s ideal.

Brain tissue growth is somewhat similiar.  You change your comedy habits in a helpful way, you see significant growth, and then you have to change them again to make it seem fresh and new.  I honestly don’t know if I love comedy.  I’m not sure I even understand the concept of love, really.  Much like platinum artist Foreigner, I want to know what love is.  What I do know, is I really enjoy most of the people who write and tell jokes.  People who aren’t afraid to admit they’re sad sometimes.  People who want the world to be fun, and would rather have a pun-off than make money (I’m learning making puns and making money may be mutually exclusive). 

One of the things I think about in New York is the immersion in stand up.  I sometimes wonder if comedy is like French.  You can study it and practice it all you want here in America, but you’ll learn the fastest if you go live in France.  If you’re trying to learn the language of comedy, is it best to do so in New York?  Then again, say you learn French in Boston, it may take longer, but then you don’t end up talking about the same experiences that most of the French do.  So instead you do what I’m doing, and take the Fung Wah Bus back and forth between Boston and France, hoping to get the best of both, but then lose valuable writing time trying to coordinate everything, and end up spending an entire Sunday lying in bed watching Mr. Show episodes in between attempting to meditate and make your thoughts stop racing for a few moments.  You get the point.  Who knows, perhaps all I need is rest.

Some comics suggested not doing the comedy show.  Some suggested doing it after the speed dating was done.  But the our host had another idea: synergy.  He had a vision of combining the comedy and speed-dating into a furious hybrid-beast that couldn’t be stopped, and he somehow convinced ye olde whistle girls to do it.  The basic plan was a comic does 5 minutes, then you do a speed date for 5 minutes, and keep repeating until people realize it’s a really stupid idea.  An optimistic one, but stupid.  Because there’s nothing quite like being bored to death by your speed date, and then immediately have another stranger try to win you over with their half-decent comedy, in this never-ending onslaught of people you don’t care about that are trying toting win your affection.

Plus, both the comedy and dating hosts somehow thought 2 hour event + 2 hour event = 2 hour event.  That said, the speed-daters let comedians join the event if they wanted and I jumped aboard.

Before the show was fun, because a few comics and I were coming up with really dumb things to say to the speed-daters.  “Anyone here on a date?”  “Oh, how long have you two been together?” “Ever been on a date and you run into a recent date, on a date, sitting next to you?”

The speed-dating officials were two very attractive girls with whistles.  Whistles they were planning to blow every 5 minutes through-out the comedy show, signaling when those “sexy” singles should move on to the next date. 

Speed-dating is a lot like comedy.  You do 5 minutes of your best stuff in an attempt to win them over and hopefully get laid.  With each speed-date, I witnessed my 5 minutes improve.  By the end I was adding in act-outs, doing characters, getting standing ovations.  I auditioned for a talent scout for Mystery, the acclaimed VH1 pick-up artist. 

Maybe the last part didn’t happen.  The truth is, when I did it, there was me talking, and then the voice in my head going, “Dear GOD I’m boring!  Yeah, ask them what they do for work again, you moron.  I’m sure they’ve never been asked that one!”  Around the 4th girl, I thought, “Oh thank Jesus, she has tattoos!  I’ll ask her about that!”  She goes, “Hah.  I didn’t realize tattoos were still a big deal.  Everyone’s been asking about them.”  F*ck me!  How am I this unoriginal?  Because I’m silently screaming at myself rather than being attentive to the conversation?  No!  How dare you!?  Why would you even bring that up!?  Which one of me is upset with me now!?  This is confusing.

I actually had a great conversation with the last two girls, until they left as soon as the show was over.  The next night though, I hit it off with this bartender who was amazingly cool.  And I define “cool” as bringing up Bill Nye the Science Guy and having a joyous reaction to the former show Wishbone.  Then she decided she gave me her card with her number on it and told me she had a boyfriend.  And I left confused.

I’m crashing on the couch of a friend from high school’s sister.  We’d never met before I showed up at her apartment.  Some people are just great human beings, and this girl is very open and kind, and will most likely do well in life based on those two traits alone.  Another sister of a girl I went to high school with is randomly staying at the same apartment, and I walked in last night, to find her sleeping next to the couch I’m crashing on.  Crush is probably a little strong, but I always thought she was cute, and now there’s a weird little Gilford High reunion going on, of people who never really had the initial “union.”  And I feel like I’m being a moron around them because, at 26 (in 4 days), I still have panic attacks around anything associated with my high school.  From a person with a neuroscience degree, I think high school gave me slight PTSD, which is just dumb stupid.  There are soldiers that return from war without PTSD, and I can’t get over this crap!?  Boo me.

I actually shook Marc Maron’s hand last night, and another comic named Jenny Zigrino stole my goddamn Facebook thunder!  That piece of friend of mine!!!  Because she also shook Maron’s hand, and posted it to Facebook before I could, and now my post-post just makes me look like a dick.  And she got 27 likes for it!  27!  Do you know how happy I would have been for a few minutes!?!  Somewhat. 

Marc Maron seems to be bringing his points back to himself more.  I don’t really know what I’m talking about, but his point of view over his career has seemed to progress from ”This is where society’s wrong,” to “this is where we’re wrong,” to “this is where I’m wrong, but here are the implications of that (which CK does brilliantly).”  Also, I got to see Maron perform at UCB (for free!) and see his short documentary, Voice of Something, following him around for a day about w week after 9/11 (the important one).  It’s worth seeing if you get the chance.  There’s a link to the trailer here.

Hannibal Burress was on the same UCB show.  He crushed with a bunch of jokes about writing for Saturday Night Live, and getting sketches rejected from it.  For instance, Lorn Michaels gives notes when they dress rehearse all the sketches, and apparently, one of Hannibal’s bombed so badly, Lorn’s only words were, “Well, that was conceptually adventurous.”  He had another great joke about a sketch where Megan Fox would kill people with jazz-scatting.  That sketch was also cut.

On top of all that, I got to hang out with Gary again at The Cellar, and talk to Kaplan briefly.  Gulman continues to enjoy New York, and Myq seems like he’s doing very well, and he even moves around a little more on stage now than I’m used to seeing.  Also, he’d just taped his Ferguson spot, and I guess it’s the best he’s ever felt, so look forward to that!

I love hanging out in New York.  I learn so much, but God it’s an effort to get stage time around here.  I’m gonna continue to work Boston and New York, but with an eye on getting to a point where I can move here.

But how do you even have thoughts?  Your brain works on physics.  It processes, stores and accesses information through chemical, electrical, and structural signals.  We can’t access information we don’t have, which brings up a dilemma:  do we have free will?  And the answer is probably not.  Our senses take in data from the moment we’re conceived, and the more different stimuli we take in, the more choice we have.  However, we make choices based on all our previous experiences, so ultimately we were probably destined to make that “choice.”  That’s where a concept like “privilege” comes from.  That from a young age, some people get to observe and be taught behaviors that give them a head start on the less-privileged.  People who have a lot of money have habits that lend towards having money.  Not only does a rich person’s child have access to these ideas, but also to a social group of monied people that wealth brings access to.  There are plenty examples of people rising from poverty to the upper class, but it’s much rarer than children born into the upper class simply remaining there. 

Every person is unique because our behaviors are a composite of every human being we’ve ever seen.  It’s true because it sorta rhymes!  That’s how we figure out what to do.  That’s why they have those warnings on tv: don’t try this at home.  Because our brains have to conciously decipher that we’re probably not from Krypton, and the yellow sun doesn’t allow us to fly out of our 3rd story windows.  We take the behaviours we like, try not to do the behaviors we don’t like, and go from there. I think that’s the value I see in comedy.  The ability to say something and influence people on a large scale.

What does this have to do with jokes?  It’s hard to come up with new jokes, if you’re not having new stimuli.  It’s hard to have new and original thoughts if you do the same routine everyday.  If all you do is comedy, it will only be relateable to comedians.  People talk about how incredible it is that Louis CK comes up with a new hour each year, especially as a single dad with two kids.  And it is incredible, he’s amazing.  But that’s also what 70% of his material is about: being a single dad with two kids.  He has a life aside from comedy.  And I think that’s something I might need to work on more: giving myself a break and doing a few more things that aren’t just joke-related.