2020 is going to be my year!
Sound familiar?
Like many of you, I approached this new decade with initiative and gusto. Maybe the moon was on a new cycle or the planets were aligning in a divine way or your upstairs neighbor who was constantly practicing Stomp moved out. Whatever it was, it felt like all of us were ready to grab the bull by the horns and ride that oversized piece of beef straight to victory.
Then this happened.
I live in California so there’s always fires, earthquakes, and yoga studios that open directly next to each other to worry about. But a pandemic that keeps us isolated for months? Please.
All of us have experienced loss due to COVID-19. Some have lost everything. Businesses, hobbies, LIFE. I’m fortunate that no one I know has died but I have lost something I never expected to be taken away: my sense of purpose.
And honestly, it hurts more than I ever thought it would.
As a stand up comedian, the stage is my world. I’ll never forget the first time I did it. March 9th, 2009 I performed a 6 minute set at a nightclub in Studio City. I walked off stage in a blissful haze. I called my mom immediately.
“I found it. This is what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
Since that moment, Comedian has been my identity. If you think being surrounded by the funniest people in the world is a cool job -- you are 100% correct. I’ve been proud to do the work, climb the ladder, and achieve goals that I never even thought possible. And after almost 11 years, I knew 2020 was going to be huge.
Momentum was on my side. I already had a big TV appearance booked and on top of that, I was preparing to record my second album that would be released at the same time. Bang Bang. That was solid but I knew I could push myself further.
I decided to shoot for the cosmos. For a while, I’ve been toying with an idea for a comedy special that would be unlike anything that had been done before. Unconventional, colorful, magical, and perfect for the crowd that I’ve been cultivating. I assembled a team of talented friends who could spin hay into gold. We put together numbers and packets and knew that this was immediately going to be exactly what it calls itself: SPECIAL.
Then this happened.
In a matter of a few days, all of my plans came crashing down like your drunk uncle at Thanksgiving. And now, I woefully admit, I don’t know what to do.
Since I began doing comedy I always worked as hard as I could. Hit the most open mics. Book the most shows. Write the most jokes. Use the most drink tickets. I knew if I kept improving success was inevitable. I went out night after night and because I was persistent, opportunities to advance my career would present themselves to me. GO GO GO!
This was the first year I took control. I told myself no more waiting for the dream bus to finally make it to my stop and let me board. Fuck that. I’m building my own bus. Only no one wants to ride the bus so again, fuck that. Let’s build a spaceship instead. Why drive when you can fly? It will be dangerous, exhausting, and a huge commitment. Others will call me crazy. Fantastic. The best ideas are always the ones that seem the most far-fetched.
Everything was falling into place.
Then this happened.
For me, the thrill of experiencing live entertainment is paramount. Concerts, festivals, rooftop comedy shows. I want to be surrounded by people, connecting through a shared feeling. I want that “you had to be there” moment because those are what make your time on this planet unique. Instead of spending my time making videos and sketches to advance my career, I focused everything on creating shows and parties that had a vibe of pure fun and silliness. People would often see photos and ask me what happened at the events. And I always loved telling them, you have to come. That’s the only way to find out.
Create the things you wish existed.
That’s precisely what I did. I navigated the annals (haha, annals) of my brain and heart to come up with things that I would want myself. I knew my path would take longer because only so many people could go to each show, but that didn’t matter to me. It filled me with joy to know that this is only for us. It was always going to mean more than a clip that anyone could show their mother on YouTube.
But now the world is changing and the one thing I thought could never be stripped of me, stage time, has been eviscerated. Not to be overdramatic, but it has been devastating.
The stage is where I feel the most alive. It’s vulnerable, raw, and requires a mindset that never allows you to let your guard down. Even when you’re doing your best, you have to maintain that energy, or your drunk uncle could show up again.
Without being able to perform in front of people, I don’t know how to fill that void. And it is terrifying.
I knew I needed stand up comedy. Something happens to me when I don’t get on stage for a few days. I imagine it’s similar to a crack addict who quits cold turkey. Strange moods take over because I have unfocused energy swirling around my biosphere with absolutely nowhere to go. I just want to crumble some jokes onto a piece of tinfoil and suck that laughter up through a straw.
Adaptation is the key to success in any field. Growing and changing with the times is crucial. But what happens when you simply don’t like the direction that everything is going? What if it no longer makes you feel accomplished? Or even fulfilled?
I’m struggling with how to continue. I know that I’m never going to quit. This is the only thing I want to do and settling for something else is simply not an option. So how do I do it in a way that doesn’t feel like I’m compromising everything I’ve always stood for?
I’ve been doing shows through Zoom, IG live, and Twitch. Is it weird as fuck? You know it is. I’m in my bedroom staring at my mustache through a computer screen wondering if anything I’m saying is connecting.
I have to keep telling myself: this is the world now. Don’t be the old man that refuses to keep up with the times. ADAPT. CHANGE. GROW.
Redirecting your circuits is never simple. I can tell myself all day to learn new skills and make my comedy work in a digital medium, but actually doing it? Fuuuuuckkkk. It. Sucks. Resistance is a cold glass of lemonade and, oh boy, am I thirsty. Which leads me to my next point…
How do I make this new world work for me instead of against me? How do I create a live experience when we can’t physically experience anything in the same place?
This is a test that has been placed upon all of us. Whether you’re a nurse, a postal worker, a waitress, or a mime -- the world is going to be different going forward. A lot of us are going to have to shift directions. I’ve always been able to go with the flow so it shouldn’t matter that I don’t like where the flow is taking me. It’s my job as a human to find comfort and happiness in any situation I find myself in.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to perform in front of people again. I do know that I’m not going to let this beat me down. I’m going to come out of quarantine stronger.
Mentally.
Physically.
Emotionally.
I’m going to teach myself how to do things I don’t like to do because the alternative is hanging my hat up and goddammit I’ve got way too many awesome hats to let them sit on the shelf.
This is scary. And sometimes I don’t know how to feel. And that’s OK. As long as I keep practicing self-care and putting effort toward something, then I’m winning. Even if it’s only for a few minutes a day. My plans aren’t canceled; they are reorganized. Keeping that perspective is of the utmost importance.
I can’t wait to see you all again. To gather. To hug. To galavant around a field and dance until our faces melt into the ground. Until then, I’ll see you all through these screens.
Embrace the new normal. We are all here together. After all, 2020 is gonna be our year!