That Kind of Mood
I got kicked off the Urban Baby message boards again. Every few weeks, an anonymous monitor decides my posts are offensive and I get a time out. It reminds me of the old days, in AOL chat rooms. The 90's. I was always getting kicked out of the writer's chat room by some humorless do-gooders. AOL was 2.95 an hour. I was an opener. I spent all my money on AOL, it was the thing that kept me sane on the road. It was my booze.
Today, in the aughts, booze and Urban Baby are my booze. I need an hour or so of both (simultaneously), just to unwind at the end of the day.
KilBaby is crawling. He loves the TIVO remote, like his parents. I dangle it to catch his eye, and place it 4 or 5 feet away. He stares at it hard, like he's gonna buy it a drink and bang it in the ladies restroom. Then he raises his little rump and starts rocking on his hands and knees. One arm comes up, then slams on the carpet. Then the other. He moves about 1/2 inch per crawl, and when he gets close, he slides into base, reaching for the remote like a batter coming home.
I don't have a standup goal, and that's a problem. For most of my career, I was always looking forward to achieving something that would lead to fame and validation. Not anymore. I did Aspen two years ago, nothing came from it. In fact I lost a huge opportunity because of one set. I did the Master's showcase at Montreal last year, nothing came from it. The milestones that are supposed to mean something have meant nothing to me. So, what would another tv spot mean? What would a half hour special mean? Nothing, again? What's the point?
I'm in that kind of mood.
I Surrender
All right, I switched over to a blog format. Are you happy now, open source community? You win.
Seven and a half months ago, I was run over by a truck full of dimples and runny shit. I need a year to get over the accident. KilBaby was born on 10/27/06, and I'm giving myself until 10/27/07 to get my life back. My plan is that by the time four days before Halloween rolls around, I will have updated my portfolio and returned to regular and full workouts.
My legs will be shaved. And that other place too.
The out of date part of my portfolio is my spec script, which is a Curb. Showrunners aren't readings Curbs anymore. It's either The Office or 30 Rock.
I'm in a pickle when it comes to standup. I'm really sick of doing comedy in clubs. Every show is Groundhog's Night. No matter what I accomplish... so what? Last Comic Standing deliberately picks amateurs, I don't want to go on the road with a baby, and I'm not enough of a name to do theaters (which would be a night out of town, instead of a week). I'm doing spots in NYC only, which are 15-20 minutes, which means there's no room to fuck around and try five minutes of new stuff. And the rooms to do let you experiment also don't pay. Babysitters don't stop by for an hour. Last Friday, I had one spot at a club (pay: $85). I hired someone from an agency. $18 per hour, four hour minimum, plus ten dollars for a cab home. Total: $92.oo. I'm down $7.00, oh well.
Then I was late for my spot, and it went to someone else. Down $92.oo. It hurt to hand over that much cash, especially when the baby slept through the whole night. I will probably relive that moment for six months.