I pride myself on being a good guy. There’s no bullshit with me. When negative shit comes my way, I try to bat it back with positivity. I haven’t always succeeded, but I’ve eventually learned from my mistakes. It’s not a technique I use: It’s the way I was raised. My mother worked hard to make sure I had a good heart, that I wasn’t an animal, that I didn’t treat other people like objects. No one is above anybody and no one is below anybody, she taught, so if you’re treating people in any other way, you are out of line with reality.
In always respecting and acknowledging people as equals going through their own struggles, whether their status in the room was higher or lower than mine, I noticed a side effect: Eventually, I wasn’t grinding alone anymore. Comedians, bookers, bartenders, and waiters started telling me about openings and opportunities.
In most action movies, one person rises out of a humble beginning to discover that they have been chosen by destiny to save the world. But that’s not how it works in real life. You rise out of your humble beginning to become part of a community, and it is only together and as equals that we will save the world.
Life Lessons
FROM TRANSITION
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The toughest transition is the transition to understanding that being yourself is all you need to be.
With Dave Becky
49
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IN WHICH I DISCOVER THAT I’M NOT ACTUALLY AS GOOD AS I THOUGHT, WHICH THEN PUTS ME ON THE PATH TO BECOMING AS GOOD AS I THOUGHT
It was the biggest comedy festival on the planet: Just for Laughs in Montreal.
The entire comedy industry would be there: not just promoters and bookers but television network executives and film casting agents. Just being on the bill was enough to generate buzz in the business, but a great performance could make a comedian’s career, even get them their own TV pilot.
Scouts for the festival saw me perform in New York and offered me a slot on their New Faces showcase. I called Dave and breathlessly told him the big news. I’d never even been out of the country before.
His response: “You’re not ready.”
“Huh?”
“You’re not ready. We’re gonna pass this up.”
“What? No, man. This is the biggest shit ever. Dude, what are you talking about?”
“Come in, and we can talk about it.”
I decided to ask Keith for his opinion. If he agreed with Dave, then maybe I’d actually have to pass on this.
He didn’t agree. “Stupid, that’s the biggest show out there. That’s where you get a deal. That’s where they give you some money. He said what?”
“He wants me to turn it down.”
Keith couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Look, stupid, I think you should definitely do it. But the comedians who work with Dave Becky all say he knows what he’s doing. So you gotta make your own call on this.”
I had no other opportunities in my career at the moment besides this festival performance, so I stormed into Dave’s office, ready to make my case.
He sat me down and calmly explained that I was still too green. “You only get one shot at these festivals to make your presence known,” he elaborated. “They want to put you in the New Faces showcase, so all the studios, all the agencies, all the casting agents, everybody is going to see you. And the first time they see you, they need to be blown away. Take a year and work on your material to make sure you stand out from the pack. Then, when you go next year, they’ll be fighting over you.”
I stood staring at him with my jaw open, processing his words. They stung a lot. I wanted to say that with him or without him, I was going. But he was highly respected, and I’d gotten this far by listening to the advice of people like him, even when I didn’t agree with their logic.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“A year will go by like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Okay.” It was one of the toughest okays I’d ever spoken.
Then I thought: Shit—what if they don’t invite me back next year?
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It was a good thing I waited, because later that week, I did a show at the Comedy Cellar with the material that had gotten me the Just for Laughs offer. I asked Keith to take a hard look at my set, and let me know what I needed to improve so I could stand out at Just for Laughs the following year. I still thought it was my best stuff—until I sat down next to Keith at The Table.
Keith: Good set, man.
Me: Thanks! I killed.
Keith: Yeah. Who was the midget robber you were talking about?
Me: I made it up.
Keith: Oh, okay. Hey, you know that whole bit about you and a dirty sock, and the dirty sock is talking? When did a dirty sock talk to you?
Me: You know that didn’t happen. I made it up.
Keith: Oh, okay. And what about the black people with the Chinese tattoos? How many black people you know got a Chinese tattoo?
Me: Naw, I was just saying, like, you know how black people be gettin’ ’em and they don’t know what they say.
Keith: You made that up too?
Me: Yeah, it was just a funny thing.
Keith: Now, after all that stuff, what do I walk away saying about you? You’re not a midget. You’re not the voice of a dirty sock. You don’t have a Chinese tattoo. I could go on and on. Who’s performing?
Me: It’s me. They’re jokes I made up out of my head, so they show the way my mind works.
Keith: Oh, so you’re the crazy comic? You’re the comic who’s got another world going on in his head. Okay, I get it.
I understood his point. Even though I’d changed my name and tightened my set and started writing from my own perspective, I was still making up jokes instead of sharing personal experiences. On the way home that night, I went through my set with Keith, and he demolished just about everything. It was my own private hack court.
It turned out I only had one bit that was actually about me. It was the joke I’d told the thugs from the Richard Allen projects: “I just wanna let you guys know that I’m not a fighter. I’m a bitch, okay? I don’t want nobody coming up to me after the show, talking about ‘Who’s the funny one now?’?”
Keith approved of that joke: “That’s the only thing you have that’s personal. Start there and build off that. What else? Why are you a bitch? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Good question.”
“Here’s what you gotta do, dummy. Go home and think about the answer. Look at what’s actually happening in your life, so you can talk about it on stage.”
“There’s nothing happening. I just travel back and forth to New York all the time.”
“Man, you really are a big dummy. The answer is staring you right in the face.”
50
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YOU CAN SKIP THIS ONE
The next part of this story is hard to write, because I did have things happening in my life. I just didn’t know how to talk about them.