There’s a cycle of stages that I go through in comedy:
“I need to move to a place where people will appreciate my genius!”
“I used to be great…”
“Why can’t I write jokes?”
“What am I doing with my life!?”,
“Why’d I ever think these were funny!?”
“Oh thank Jesus! I wrote a new bit.”
“Another new bit!?”
I’m currently transitioning into the “Oh thank Jesus!” stage, so hopefully by the time I hit New York I’ll delusionally think I’m great again. Most of my stage time is still in front of the same group of comics. And I never look forward to repeating jokes they’ve heard a few times already. However, it’s becoming clear that stand up is about having your jokes so ingrained, it doesn’t matter if a fat, balding, naked man, runs into the room–body slathered in baby oil–and slides across the tiled comedy club floor while yelling the initimate details of things he actually did to your mother. Or like, someone breaks a glass. The first example was just what came to mind. Of course, you also want to have jokes worth ingraining.
That said, I’m so excited to see how my act fairs in the Big Apple. When I was in San Francisco this winter, I crushed (for me) at some shows so incredibly, I was onstage thinking, “Even I don’t think I’m doing this well. And I LOVE me.” And in the 4 months I’ve been back in Boston, I don’t think I’ve gotten as many applause breaks as I got in those 9 days in the Bay Area. Then again, the main jokes I did there were, “A homeless guy tricked me!” and “I’m a priviledged white guy in glasses fighting racism!” How could you not cheer for that?
New York will be even tougher than Boston. But at least I’ll be performing for a completely different group of mostly comics!