Finding Your Lane

Hey folks! 

Quick health update, then I'll get into what I'm here to talk about...

I'm now four weeks removed from my shoulder operation. Things are pretty good, but there are struggles. I'm not really in much pain, but it's not mobile. Like, at all. I've got about 15 degrees I can lift it but that's about it. There's also almost no strength in it. Not being able to do much around the house has been tough. I'm slowly figuring out what I can do and what I can't. Right now I'm typing with my sling off, but even that is dicey. 

I now see why the surgeon was firm in saying that when I'll be able to drop the sling (hopefully next Thursday), I won't yet be ready for work. This arm is far from okay, and clearly won't be for awhile. I'm not back to work until mid-Feb, and it's going to take a lot of rehab to get back on track even by then. 

At least post-sling, I should be able to drive after I strengthen a bit. I'm pumped about getting some independence back. Hopefully, I'll be able to balance the exercises I'll have to commit to with a lot of comedy. 

I'll have minimum six or more weeks before I return to work. That's a gift I'll need to take advantage of. 

Speaking of comedy....After a couple of relatively big shows this week, I've come to an epiphany:

For the last couple of years, I couldn't shake the impression that however I was doing stand up was wrong. That I had to change my style/approach to be more successful. What I realized this morning was that I can't be anything but me up there, for whatever that's worth. 

I would see more performative or energetic comedians and get really jealous. "Why can't I be dynamic like that?"

It would drive me crazy. I just thought I didn't have the tools to stand out against the sea of open mic'ers in Alberta and beyond. That not being that type would hold me back forever. 

Today though, it clicked. 

That's not me. And trying to make it me is only going to come across forced and inauthentic. And in comedy, funny and authentic are almost equally important. I have to stay true to what feels right. On the scale of physical commitment and casual like-ability, I'm nowhere near the top. I'm not high-energy. I'm more dry, subtle, and on a good day, witty, present and smart. Those are my strengths. Pining about what I don't bring to the party won't get me anywhere. For better or worse, all I can be on stage is me. 

Sure, this is an act of resignation, but I don't think it's a negative one. It's also not me saying that I'm fully formed as a comedian now. Not at all. I still want to add way more tools to my belt. To be versatile and able to handle many styles and situations. I still want to write some material that takes me out of my comfort zone and challenges me. But I'm starting to get a handle on what I look and sound like up there. What feels like things I would say, in a way I would/should be saying them. 

I don't know if I've found the elusive "voice" that comedians chase. Hell, I don't even know if the tools that I do have will be enough to succeed at this. But I'd say at least I have a lane now. A tighter handle on the skills I can continue to refine and polish. 

All I can bring to a show is the best version of me. I'm done trying to be a crappy someone else. 

Thanks as always for reading, see you soon.

 B

One-Armed-Wunderbrad

Hey folks! I figured I was way past due on an update on my shoulder situation. For those of you who are new here, a little over a week ago I had an operation for a torn labrum. Trust me spellcheck, it's a real word. 

As I'm typing this with a sling on, I'm going to need you to read this slower to make it more authentic to the creation process. Cool? No. Slower than that. 

Better. 

My new sling is now a very important part of my life. Other than bathing (an activity that I'm not supposed to do solo), and straightening my arm for the required three sets of thirty per day, it's always there. It's been there for 12 days, and it's not going anywhere for the next 35 more. 

So, this has been quite the adjustment...

It isn't really painful, as long as I don't do anything I'm not supposed to do, which is almost everything. More of a general discomfort and annoyance really. The first few days were pretty rough, with the recovery/medication taking a lot out of me. My energy levels were terrible. In some ways that was easier though, as for the last week I've felt closer to normal, but still can't do much. A guy gets twitchy. 

It's not all bad though. My friends and family have been great. Checking up on me and taking me for outings. Which is great because losing the freedom to drive myself anywhere I want to is frustrating. My wife in particular has been amazing in so many ways. She took the first week off to give me whatever I needed, which gave us a ton of time together. We mostly spent that time watching really depressing shows together, which was lovely. 

I also discovered that I can still play video games pain-free, so it won't be hard to fill the hours without her now that she's back to work. The hardest part about that is the guilt about not being able to pitch in around the house. In the morning I wake up the kids, and can slap together sandwiches, but that's about it. I can kind of wash (small) dishes, although I'm probably not even supposed to do that. But I can't help with laundry, sweep the floors or anything like that. It's hard to put all of that on her and not feel like a schmuck. 

I'm also waiting for my disability insurance to kick in. Not having the steady paycheck is stressful. We're staying afloat, but it's hard not to feel like I'm bringing nothing to family right now. Not earning money. Not lightening the workload with all this time at home. It's tough. 

But I'm grasping that this is all an exercise in surrender. I want to heal properly and for all this to work, so that I can get back to being me and doing more. That's going to mean accepting the full recovery process, and staying humble and letting people help me. I get my stitches out tomorrow and consult with the surgeon, so, we're getting there. 

Stay tuned for more, because what else am I going to do?

B

The Magic of Trying

I'm incredibly inspired right now. I just got off the stage I shared with my improv troupe, Bull Skit. But I wasn't back to do improv. Not the way I used to anyway. 

This time I was there to do a set of stand up, alongside Zachary Landry, and then we let the crowd pick our topics. Fully improvised stand up comedy. Even my fellow improvisers, people who make up amazing things every week, were terrified for us. I'm not going to pretend that either of us delivered pure gold, but that wasn't really the goal. It was more, "Can we even pull this off at all?"

And yes. We did that!

How it was going to go was secondary to doing it at all. 

Tonight was just one of many nights that drove the same lesson home. I dug into the backlog of this blog and found this:

Reckless Enthusiasm > Judgement 

Two years ago, that was me trying to push past my own fears and need for perfection. The last few weeks have been me on the other side of that and moving further away from those issues every day. 

I had the chance to teach an intro to stand up workshop, because while I'm no pro, I can definitely pass on what I've learned on my journey so far. The one lesson that I tried to pass on that hit me hardest was:

"Don't overestimate the stakes of any situation. No matter how great or terrible you think a set went, when you wake up tomorrow, you'll be the only person who was in that room who's still thinking about it. Even if it was extra memorable in either direction, That statement still runs true the day or week after. People are too self-involved to reflect on what you did that one night."

I'm a struggling, unknown, amateur comedian. People still notice me more for my day job then anything comedy related. And there's SO. MUCH. FREEDOM IN THAT! I don't have to play it safe. I don't have a career to ruin. If I stink up an open mic, there's another one coming the week after. I can screw up. Get weird. Take risks. Say yes to every challenge. 

And no matter how any of that goes, everything is going to be fine. Better than fine, because I'm not worried about the result. I don't have to be. I just have to do the thing, and learn from the thing. That's it! 

-Six months ago, I looked at roast battles and said to myself, "I'm not that kind of comedian". That was fear of failure talking. Now I've done three that went passably well, and I'm gearing up for my next one. And at one of those battles, a veteran comic gave me some kind words and told me "when you've got thirty minutes ready, let me know and you can head on the road with me." At the time, that felt like a really high hurdle to jump. A month ago, I did my first twenty minute set, and my first thirty is four weeks away. I just decided to try. 

-A year ago, running my own show seemed like a dream. Six shows later, I'm a comedy promoter.

-Even then, I was baby-stepping my way into it, then Simon King called looking to partner up on some dates in the area for early December. The rub was I had to cold-call a handful of venues to try to book the shows. That was scary, but yesterday I booked a show that could make me hundreds of dollars. 

-There are guys in my scene that two years ago were way ahead of me. Then I shifted focus and committed to getting at it. I just hit one hundred sets this month. Three months ago I was barely over seventy. A year prior less than half of that. Now, I feel I'm passing those guys. Not because I'm funnier than them. I'm just doing more. Pushing myself. Just plain trying. 

Which leads me to tonight, where I decided to face forty people, and have them shout things like "Addiction treatment!" "Jello Shots!" and "Russian Hackers!" at me, and had to try to deliver comedy on the spot about them. Was it scary? Kind of, yeah. Did I kill? Not hardly. But did I prove to myself that it's something I can do? Yep. 

Most of the things above didn't execute to perfection. None of them really. But if I hadn't tried them, I'd be back where I already was. And failing any of those things wouldn't have put me back any further than that. I lost nothing by trying. NOTHING! I didn't let doubt or anxiety slow me down. I didn't let others talk me out of them. 

By traditional standards, I'm nowhere near "success". I'm not making money at this. No one knows me yet. My material and stage presence have a long way to go. But I'm pushing and challenging myself, and taking something away from every swing and miss. That feels like a win. Or at least puts me a position to win when the time comes. 

Keep trying everybody,

B

Big Things and Baby Steps

So, things are good. Mostly. If anyone wants to dump a truck full of money on my lawn, that would be awesome, but otherwise, I'm feeling good about things. 

On the family front, I've really focused on being more engaged and present. That has meant saying no to things sometimes. I took a month off from Bull Skit (my improv troupe), and tried to be calculating about which stand up shows would be most beneficial to my progress, and skipping the rest. It's been great to be home more. Wifey has had a big increase in work stress, so I've been trying to lighten the load at home more. Cooking, entertaining the kids and just listening more. Having that solid foundation at home has helped me stay grounded for all the other stuff. Speaking of other stuff...

Like I said, Bull Skit took a back seat recently, and I now realize that the break was important. I love what we do there, and who I get to do it with, but it can be a lot to take on. Focus and enthusiasm are vital in producing the best shows that we can, and I noticed I was struggling to maintain that at certain points this season. They weren't always getting the best, most engaged version of me. And trust me, I'm not talented enough to coast through improv! Going the other way, the worst thing you can be for an improv team is the disgruntled, disruptive one. I felt a bit of that creeping in, and I'd never want to be a toxic influence to team chemistry. Luckily, this was the part of the season I had already selected to step away during. After having 4 rehearsals off, and now not being required at the theatre for this month's shows, I feel energized and excited to get back in the groove. Even better, we are wrapping up the season with our first ever improv festival, and I get to direct a format on closing night! I am so pumped about this, and because of a little self-care, I am ready to bring my best stuff to it.

As far as stand up goes, things have also been clicking along. I really feel a shift coming for whatever my "career" is. I've established myself somewhat as a reliable opener and functional MC for Red Deer shows. I'm still learning a lot doing local "booked mic" spots, but I'm hungry for more. I'm making more of an effort to perform in situations that could raise my profile. Contests and big-city rooms for example. To really take the next step, I need to play bigger rooms and have the chance to do longer sets. Obviously talent is kind of important for success, but just as big of a factor is your exposure and ability to network. It doesn't matter how good you are if no one knows how good you are...

Last weekend I had a really big contest in Calgary. FunnyFest is a pretty big deal, so I wanted to see where I was at compared to others in the scene. After what may have been the best set of my life, I finished 3rd. The top 2 advance to the finals, but I know what to adjust in my routine to finish even stronger next time, and I'm an alternate for the finals as well. Next up is Edmonton in a few weeks, and I think I'm going to have a good showing. 

I've also started producing my very own show in the town I grew up, Penhold, Alberta. Putting my own show together has been such a cool challenge. I get to pick the people I most want to work with, the venue is very helpful and supportive to what we're doing, and so far, the crowd has been fantastic. Both shows have been standing room only, with the last show drawing over 120 people! The next show is 7 days away, and I'm hoping that things stay strong. I keep tweaking things and trying to make the show even better. This fall I'm hoping to move to a ticketed show, instead of the donation system we're going with so far. I've had peers and friends step up huge for helping supply gear and such, but I'd like to have this show be profitable enough for me to buy all my own gear soon. 

So...yeah! Things are cool right now. My home and comedic lives are balanced right now. I'm ready to finish strong on Season 10 with Bull Skit, and I'm on the bubble of bigger things in stand up. All of this wouldn't be possible if my family, my friends and my comedy peers supporting me for the ride. Thank you all so much, and stay tuned for whatever happens next ! 

Peace!

B

Updates, Reality Checks and Juggling ALL THE THINGS

Hello again! It's been a long time. The main reason I've been away from blogging about what I'm up to, is that I've been up to a lot. I was about to say, "this last six months", but what I should really say is, "This last year", I've been knee-deep in various types of comedy and family times, with a dab of beer production and social media marketing tossed in there. Earning a living is also still necessary, so drop a full time job in there too. With all that's been happening, I've kind of put my head down and just pushed through it. It's been a constant stream of "next thing...next thing...etc.", but now I want to take a breath, stick my head way up and look at how far I've come and maybe get a clue on where the hell I'm going...

Let's start with Bull Skit!

Last season was massive, as our Veal Skit crew stepped up to become an equal part of the company with the other cast. We alternated main stage shows and put in more time than ever before. It was a great challenge, and Veal became stronger through the trials. Keeping morale and chemistry high wasn't always easy, and through various situations we lost a couple members off the team. Because we feel like family doing what we do together, it was hard going through those changes. Overall I'm so proud of how we stepped up and delivered all season though. 

This season, (Our 10th!) has seen more big change, as Veal and Bull Skits have been shuffled together with some new faces into a Full Time Cast, and a more casual Part Time Cast. I'm on the casual team, which in theory should open up more time for family and stand up, but I've still been running pretty hard. We survived a fun but intense third run of Sketch Fest, and then we jumped right into the season. We're presenting shows we've never attempted before and I'm starting to feel that tingle of fear again. That tension that comes from trying things you aren't certain you can pull off. I missed that feeling. 

Stand up!

My last blog talked about my big contest win in June, and I'm happy to report that I've carried over some momentum from that through the summer and beyond. When I did that contest, I'd probably only performed twenty or so sets over the last year-and-a-half. I've dropped at least that many since June. I'm excited about getting better, and hopefully will increase my presence in the scene over time. I've learned it's a tough grind to even moderate success in that business, but I'm inspired by some of the talented folks I get to work with, and I'm always learning something every night. 

Speaking of learning and new challenges, I'm just a few days away from promoting my first show! At the Penholder Tavern in my hometown of Penhold, Alberta, I'll be booking what hopefully will become a monthly show. While it's a bit challenging to add another activity to my schedule, I couldn't pass up the chance to see how the other side of the business works. Performing in various rooms over the last two years I've figured out my tastes for a great show, and I want to create a show that I'd love to watch. Getting to hand-pick the people I want to work with has been great. I hope it leads to bigger things, either as a comedian or a promoter. 

The Fam
The aspect of my life that gets neglected a bit as I chase this stuff is my family. It's a problem, and I'm nowhere near having it figured out yet. The kids are a bit older, so getting out of the house two or three nights a week is easier than it would have been a few years ago. I really try to pick my spots, but I have a hard time saying "no" to people. I try not to over-commit to Bull Skit, but I always have fun when I'm there, and I get twitchy when they are doing awesome things without me. I also want to get lots of stage time for stand up, both for getting better and to keep my visibility high. It also doesn't help when I get in my head about the other stuff when I actually AM home sometimes. 

I know that if I work too hard and drift further away from my home life, I may never be able to repair those relationships. Wifey and the kids support my passions, but I know it affects them when I leave, and I struggle with that balance constantly. My wife loves me, and loves having me around, and I don't honour that enough. I see my kids look down sadly when I'm putting on my shoes and saying "daddy's got a show". It guts me every time, but I can't bear the thought of letting it all go and just staying home. Before I had these new things in my life, I was unfulfilled and on edge most of the time. I knew something was missing.

I'm not an amazing comedian by any means, but I am decent at this stuff, and getting better all the time. I might be rationalizing here, but I want to show my children that they can find a "thing" that they love and go chase it. The "you can be anything you want" speech rings hollow if the speaker didn't at least take a shot at something themselves. I don't want to regret not trying. I also don't want to regret hurting my loved ones...

I especially feel a lot of guilt for Wifey. Eight years ago, she didn't know she'd be marrying a comedian, because I had no idea either. She didn't sign up for any of this. I'm not the same person she met thirteen years ago, but I suppose not many of us are. I've been learning that marriage isn't falling in love and assuming everything will just work out. It's falling in love with many different versions of the same person. She's grown and changed too. She's amazing at her job, and the best parenting partner I could ever want. She also still loves me, which is both surprising and awesome. I have a hard time expressing to her how hard it is to leave her at home when I'm out performing. I miss her, and I want her there with me to share those moments. I'm frustrated because that part of my life feels so separate from her, but we talked a few months back about her showing support to me by making sure that things at home are being handled in my absence. I semi-joke all the time that at least one of us needs to be a responsible parent, and it's rarely me. So that's been the arrangement. It's...working, but not well. 

There are days I want to do more and work harder, and there are days I want to slow way down and just be present and content. Most days have some of both. The juggling act is brutal. If one area is really ticking along, I know that another is suffering for it. 

I'm crazy fortunate to have these be my biggest issues. My wife and children love me. I love them, but I also love these things over here. Those aren't big problems, but they are mine. And I'm realizing I wouldn't trade them for anyone else's. Dumping all these thoughts into the keyboard helped me see that. 

Thanks for reading my self-digital-therapy session,
B

Just Me and a Mic

I love stand up comedy. 

For years, I've looked at the men and women who do it with awe. I wanted to try it myself, but I was afraid. I didn't think I could ever do what they did. When I discovered my local improv troupe, Bull Skit, I saw the classes as a way to build my confidence. Maybe after some training I could try getting on stage. Along the way, I ended up diving into Bull Skit full speed, and stand up had to take a back-seat to improv. Despite doing my first set over two years ago, I've only dabbled in it, with barely two dozen attempts under my belt.

This spring though, an event was announced that really had me excited. They were going to host a contest, with prize money and a big slot on an upcoming show. I saw it as a great chance to test myself, sure, against the other comedians, but mainly just to see how I would handle the pressure. So, within a week or two of Bull Skit Season 9 drawing to a close, I started writing jokes and doing open mics. Leading up to the competition, I put in about 5 or 6 sets, polishing my material, finding the rhythms of the laughs, and nailing my delivery. When the big night came, I felt good. There was some other locals I saw as a challenge, and a few from out of town that I had no idea about. I couldn't do anything about their sets though, just my own. 

My turn was coming, so I positioned myself in our unofficial staging area. The comic up there before me hadn't been up in years, and was really struggling. He lost his train of thought, and got shook up. When the crowd felt his discomfort, it quickly spread to them too. Suddenly, everyone in the room was not having a good time. For a second, I got worried about having to follow him and handle the cold, nervous crowd. Then I thought to myself:

 "I need to get these people back to a good place if I'm going to have a chance."

When the other guy finally finished, a table of older people right at the front just got up and left as he walked off stage. I couldn't blame them, but this was my opening. I was introduced, and stepped up there with a smile on.

"Hey everyone! Thanks for not leaving!"

...the crowd chuckled a bit

"It is like, 8 O'clock. They probably just needed to go to bed. It's fine."

...more chuckles

"Are you folks ready to have some fun? Let's have some fun, huh?"


The crowd gave a small cheer and you could almost feel everyone in the room (not least of which me) take a collective deep breath. It was OK to laugh again now. Now I could start my act. 

The set went great. It was possibly my best one ever, right when I needed it. I was calm and confident. The judges awarded me first place! I was so grateful and excited that I stepped up in the moment. I realized after what the secret was. I basically took control of the room that night. I've never felt like that before. Control is not a sensation I'm used to. My routine is that I try not to screw things up too badly as I careen through my day. Life just happens and I try to keep up. But for that 6 minutes, that lounge was my own little universe. I could almost feel the energy of the crowd, as I had them on the ride with me. I can see why guys like Judd Apatow get back into it after decades away. When it all clicks, there's no feeling like it. 

Of course, as the judges deliberated the winner, we were treated to the headliner, Tommy Mellor. He quickly reminded me that I still have a ton to learn, as he killed for 30 minutes. I don't have that in me. Not yet. But I know how far I've come already. I feel more relaxed on stage now, mostly thanks to the many hours of improv and sketch. When I started stand up, I was so afraid of having a bad set. Now, if things stall out a bit, I'll laugh about it in the moment and try to engage the crowd that way. When things aren't going well, I'll always learn a few things to change for next time, but I'm not afraid to fail. 

Will I ever be a famous, successful comedian? Most likely not, but it feels good trying to become one, and as long as that's true, I'll keep hustling.

Chasing dem laughs,

B

You suck. So do I. And that's OK.

After my first couple of attempts at doing stand-up, I messaged a friend of mine to bounce some thoughts off of him about the process of it all. I was riding pretty high going into our chat. The main reason why is that people are so paralyzed by the thought of getting up in front of a crowd in such a vulnerable way that being able to do it at all felt like a major triumph. And frankly, the crowds were very kind to me, so things were feeling a bit too easy. My friend Erik was quick to caution me to stay focused and humble. He said "most of the folks you'll be sharing the stage with will suck. And you do too. And I do too. You just keep at it and eventually you won't suck." Then he tossed out a quote from a very wise cartoon dog.

He also mentioned that eventually, you're going to bomb. And that bombing is not a bad thing, because it will keep you grounded and show you exactly why you suck, and the parts of your act you need to change so that you'll suck less. 

It turns out he was dead on, because last week, I got my first taste of bombing. I went up first, which it turns out is WAAAAAY harder than a cushy spot towards the end of the show. It's up to the "bullet" spot to get the crowd relaxed and ready to laugh. I did not succeed at that. I mumbled my way through my first bit, and looked out to a small crowd of dead faces. Not even a cracked smile. Right here is where a pro would make a crack about how bad the last joke was, or at least regroup and come at them even harder. I did not succeed at that either. Instead I tightened up and showed fear. This is a cardinal sin for anyone on stage, because the crowd usually starts feeling bad for you, and nobody laughs when they feel like that. I spewed the rest of my set out, in the most rushed and tentative way possible. Then the host mercifully lit me, meaning it was time to wrap it up. Thank you Clint! And Jeebus. Thank you Jeebus!

I was shaking as I sat back down. I felt shame and embarrassment. Two full scoops worth. For the rest of the night, I was stewing over what went wrong. By the next morning though, I was OK with how things went. More than OK actually. Going up there and sucking knocked me off of that smug little cloud I'd been on. It shattered my illusions about how I was actually doing, and reminded me that making strangers laugh on command is F#%$ing HARD. I learned that I need to tighten up my set, figure out what hits and make it even better. I also need to dump what isn't hitting, and write better stuff. And no matter what, I need to be able to fail up there with total relentless confidence no matter how ugly it gets. 

I embraced the suck.

This lesson applies to pretty much everything. If you aren't failing, you aren't trying. Put yourself out there. Blow up your comfortable little bubble and try something you've always wanted to do. Don't worry about how you're going to do, because I'll tell you right now: It's probably going to go terribly. And that's awesome. Dust yourself off and do it again. And again. And again. If you love something, don't let failure discourage you, let it push you. 

I'm going to do another open mic next week. I'm probably going to suck. The week after that, my second season with my improv troupe, Bullksit starts up. I REALLY suck at that too. 

And I can't wait.

Suckfully yours,

B