The Early Years
So I'm not a Comedian.
I mean, I'm funny and do a whole host of comedic things but I'm pretty clear that sticking me under the 'Stand-Up Comedian' umbrella would be a categorical error.
It's taken me quite some time to nestle myself into the cushion that is this realization.
I've come to somewhat similar realizations along the path of this Earth trip I'm taking but there's something definitively epiphanic about this one. It's put me in a most reflective light that's casting beams upon many a memory.
I can't say if this is meant for you but I know it's meant for someone. I've always loved Rolling Stone magazine for the interviews because I always wanted to know how a Star got to where they got to. That process and the steps therein always fascinated me. The key is understanding that your journey is yours and may not resemble anyone else's. It's so easy to default to the 'Well, this isn't how it's been done' soundbite. Yeah, do yourself a favor and delete that file, huge waster of time.
So, for me? Here's how it went down.
Okay, let's start at the beginning. Well, the very beginning would be me at 3 or 4 standing on my parent's coffee table and singing and dancing with a plastic guitar. What song did I sing? An original if you must ask. Huh? No way. Way. It went a little something like this 'Oh Policeman oh Policeman give me back my Money Money Money'. No lie. I had no real concept of authority or money but apparently my soul knew enough at that point in time to sing about corrupt cops and traffic stops. Of course those who know me now know how perfect this is since I've become so deeply invested in the defeat of the system especially as it pertains to the right to travel freely without cops or courts telling me otherwise. We bring with us to this world what we wish to achieve right from the very first steps and sounds.
Anyway, fast forward ten plus years later and you'd find me sitting in the den of my childhood home in New Jersey watching Eddie Murphy's 'Delirious' for the first time with eyes as wide as the Milky Way.
That was it for me. That's what I wanted to do. I didn't know how to get there but that was it: Huge stage, Packed House, Crazy Antics, Characters Galore, talked about for years and years. I had no act just a dream. I didn't even know what to do to get an act. Actually come to think of it, I distinctly remembering being about 7 or 8 climbing up the stairs in Elementary School after making some kids laugh and thinking "I should start writing this down so I remember it". I also have many memories of imitating all of my relatives at Passover Seders and Bar/Bat Mitzvahs and apparently pissing them off, at least that's what I was told many years after the fact. So I suppose I had the makings of an act.
After the 'Delirious' revelation I subsequently became a 'Comedy Junkie' and listened religiously to Comedy Albums (in between extensive Prince album sessions of course) in my bedroom: Cosby, Carlin, Robin Williams and any Eddie Murphy I could get my hands on. My oversized 7 Subject School Notebook that I carried to every class had 'I Love Eddie Murphy' scratched into the cover of it. Although the Murphy part was kinda askew and a bit underneath the Eddie part so it looked more like I wrote I Love Eddie...yeah, I didn't have the first date of my life until Senior Prom.
I was also in awe of Sir Richard Pryor but never got into him until I was older; I couldn't relate to his stuff like I could to my other heroes. Add several cups of 'The Honeymooners' every night at 11:30pm (how I wished I got an opportunity to meet and thank Jackie Gleason) and add several heaping tablespoons of HBO Comedy Specials that aired seemingly every night at some point and I was a veritable Ha Ha Gumbo of Funny Goodness inside.
I did the acting thing exclusively during the High School and College years but while I was enrolled at NYU I had a nagging feeling that I should sneak away from my studies and trek uptown to the Comic Strip on 81st and 2nd and start doing sets there since that's where Eddie used to perform. I never did. It was still just a hazy dream.
Fast forward several years after college graduation and I'm working with my first Talent Manager who knows nothing about my deep seeded Comedy desires. One day I'm called, no, strike that, I'm paged, yes paged, as in a beeper. Yes, it was like being poked on the hip which caused you to squawk and squeal for a phone to use as if your life depended on it. There were these things called Phone Booths that one had to find. They usually could be found on the street but sometimes you could find them indoors as well. How it worked is you had to carry around change...okay I'll stop.
Anyway, my Manager had contacted me for an audition for some sort of live show in the West Village that they were casting. My mind immediately started rifling through all of the monologues that were at my disposal; should I hit them with Mozart or drop my Chekhov on them, that new street one I've been workin' on is kinda ill...before I had a chance to solidify that moment into my mind my manager said "They're looking for someone funny so go there and be funny".
Now, I suppose a normal actor would take that to mean go and do a funny prepared comedic monologue but I heard "Go do a stand-up routine". I was petrified and spooked, how did my Manager know I wanted to do Stand-Up? I questioned the entire circumstance and almost called back and turned it down but somehow I relented.
So, what does an aspiring Comedian who had a pining deep inside his gut to express his life to the world do for his first act ever? Panic of course, duh; "Okay, okay, relax, you can do this, what's on my mind?" Well, what was on my mind was that the Knicks had just recently lost in the NBA Finals. Yeah, not a good subject. What was I gonna do, complain about bogus foul calls for 10 minutes? No, not that, the talk of the planet at that time was none other than Orenthal James Simpson. Yup, he was fresh out the Range Rover and all up in his trial. I remember having some pointed observations about the whole thing and got to scribbling about it in a teeny tiny pocket notebook. Don't ask me to recall the jokes they couldn't have been that good. I also remember going straight to my take on Bar Mitzvahs. I definitely recall doing some Jew Voice to a guy who was figuring the economics of putting together a lavish Bar Mitzvah. Hey, Eddie Murphy's first set was on boogers or something like that so cut me a break!
Anyway, I go to this audition and do my thing and...I got it! Turns out they weren't even looking for a Stand-Up. They started asking me where I performed, my goodness. I had no idea back then that I'd be asked that question a gazillion times again. But wait, what? I got it...what the heck did I...oh, it's some cabaret performance type thing, oh, okay, well, yeah sure I'll do it. Several weeks later I was set to do my first 'Gig' at the Westbeth Theater Center in NYC. Here's what I remember from that gig:
I was never more nervous in my life, not even close. All the 'girl stuff' paled in comparison. Acting on a crush that swirled around your stomach for what seemed like forever can cause a kid to melt into a puddle. This was a whole different animal. I was backstage literally ready to eat my way through the wood of the walls so that I could hide. I couldn't sit still and I was quite convinced that I was going to hear nothing but silence and that everyone in New York would know how much I sucked the next day. Yup, the back page of all the Dailies would proclaim the death of my career while mentioning that Knicks fans always suck at everything.
To add to my frayed nerves was the fact that my parents were there along with their best friends who I knew very well, plus my closest friend that I knew since I was a peach-fuzzed bowl cut runt in Junior High was also there. Here's how my set went...I cursed every other word. In fact, I'm pretty sure I had run-ons of nothing but sentences of curses. I should have just went out and yelled 'F#@K!' and walked off the stage, that would have been more artistic. Yet somehow some way I got laughs and the Booker loved me. My hand was shaken by a few audience members afterward but most of what I remember is my homeboy coming backstage right after I was finished and congratulating me by saying 'You finally did it man'.
I was way more relieved than happy. Kinda like losin' your virginity and yes, my first time was quite the crazy event and no you don't get that one.
At any rate, I had a steady gig! I couldn't tell you what the other acts were like, I was still a mess before going on and could care less if they were pulling veggies from their poop holes before I went on. I know that one of my topics was video phones. This was waaay before fancy cell phones but I had an inkling they were coming and spoke extensively how this would be evil and that you would never be able to get a chick on the phone because it would take her forever to get ready and look presentable for the conversation.
Anyway, I believe I performed there three or four times until I got a call from my Manager telling me that I wasn't going to be asked back for another show. The reason? I was too raunchy. Apparently the free flowing bouillabaisse of profanity had gotten to be too much. But you know what? I was thrilled! I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Wow, I'm so controversial. They can't handle me. The truth is too much for them to take. I'm not some pansy comic who sugar coats it, I come correct with the hot mustard! Well, that's what I was thinking back then.
So there I was standing in that telephone booth and it dawned on me that I was Comic without a gig.
I slowly turned outward to the lathered buzz that was the vibration of New York and realized I had to seek out an actual Comedy Club if I wanted to perform again.
My gulp was as loud as a cab hitting a pothole at eighty miles an hour with a family of four in the front seat.
Phone booths really should have had curtains for moments like this.
[Part II Next Week]
So I'm not a Comedian.
I mean, I'm funny and do a whole host of comedic things but I'm pretty clear that sticking me under the 'Stand-Up Comedian' umbrella would be a categorical error.
It's taken me quite some time to nestle myself into the cushion that is this realization.
I've come to somewhat similar realizations along the path of this Earth trip I'm taking but there's something definitively epiphanic about this one. It's put me in a most reflective light that's casting beams upon many a memory.
I can't say if this is meant for you but I know it's meant for someone. I've always loved Rolling Stone magazine for the interviews because I always wanted to know how a Star got to where they got to. That process and the steps therein always fascinated me. The key is understanding that your journey is yours and may not resemble anyone else's. It's so easy to default to the 'Well, this isn't how it's been done' soundbite. Yeah, do yourself a favor and delete that file, huge waster of time.
So, for me? Here's how it went down.
Okay, let's start at the beginning. Well, the very beginning would be me at 3 or 4 standing on my parent's coffee table and singing and dancing with a plastic guitar. What song did I sing? An original if you must ask. Huh? No way. Way. It went a little something like this 'Oh Policeman oh Policeman give me back my Money Money Money'. No lie. I had no real concept of authority or money but apparently my soul knew enough at that point in time to sing about corrupt cops and traffic stops. Of course those who know me now know how perfect this is since I've become so deeply invested in the defeat of the system especially as it pertains to the right to travel freely without cops or courts telling me otherwise. We bring with us to this world what we wish to achieve right from the very first steps and sounds.
Anyway, fast forward ten plus years later and you'd find me sitting in the den of my childhood home in New Jersey watching Eddie Murphy's 'Delirious' for the first time with eyes as wide as the Milky Way.
That was it for me. That's what I wanted to do. I didn't know how to get there but that was it: Huge stage, Packed House, Crazy Antics, Characters Galore, talked about for years and years. I had no act just a dream. I didn't even know what to do to get an act. Actually come to think of it, I distinctly remembering being about 7 or 8 climbing up the stairs in Elementary School after making some kids laugh and thinking "I should start writing this down so I remember it". I also have many memories of imitating all of my relatives at Passover Seders and Bar/Bat Mitzvahs and apparently pissing them off, at least that's what I was told many years after the fact. So I suppose I had the makings of an act.
After the 'Delirious' revelation I subsequently became a 'Comedy Junkie' and listened religiously to Comedy Albums (in between extensive Prince album sessions of course) in my bedroom: Cosby, Carlin, Robin Williams and any Eddie Murphy I could get my hands on. My oversized 7 Subject School Notebook that I carried to every class had 'I Love Eddie Murphy' scratched into the cover of it. Although the Murphy part was kinda askew and a bit underneath the Eddie part so it looked more like I wrote I Love Eddie...yeah, I didn't have the first date of my life until Senior Prom.
I was also in awe of Sir Richard Pryor but never got into him until I was older; I couldn't relate to his stuff like I could to my other heroes. Add several cups of 'The Honeymooners' every night at 11:30pm (how I wished I got an opportunity to meet and thank Jackie Gleason) and add several heaping tablespoons of HBO Comedy Specials that aired seemingly every night at some point and I was a veritable Ha Ha Gumbo of Funny Goodness inside.
I did the acting thing exclusively during the High School and College years but while I was enrolled at NYU I had a nagging feeling that I should sneak away from my studies and trek uptown to the Comic Strip on 81st and 2nd and start doing sets there since that's where Eddie used to perform. I never did. It was still just a hazy dream.
Fast forward several years after college graduation and I'm working with my first Talent Manager who knows nothing about my deep seeded Comedy desires. One day I'm called, no, strike that, I'm paged, yes paged, as in a beeper. Yes, it was like being poked on the hip which caused you to squawk and squeal for a phone to use as if your life depended on it. There were these things called Phone Booths that one had to find. They usually could be found on the street but sometimes you could find them indoors as well. How it worked is you had to carry around change...okay I'll stop.
Anyway, my Manager had contacted me for an audition for some sort of live show in the West Village that they were casting. My mind immediately started rifling through all of the monologues that were at my disposal; should I hit them with Mozart or drop my Chekhov on them, that new street one I've been workin' on is kinda ill...before I had a chance to solidify that moment into my mind my manager said "They're looking for someone funny so go there and be funny".
Now, I suppose a normal actor would take that to mean go and do a funny prepared comedic monologue but I heard "Go do a stand-up routine". I was petrified and spooked, how did my Manager know I wanted to do Stand-Up? I questioned the entire circumstance and almost called back and turned it down but somehow I relented.
So, what does an aspiring Comedian who had a pining deep inside his gut to express his life to the world do for his first act ever? Panic of course, duh; "Okay, okay, relax, you can do this, what's on my mind?" Well, what was on my mind was that the Knicks had just recently lost in the NBA Finals. Yeah, not a good subject. What was I gonna do, complain about bogus foul calls for 10 minutes? No, not that, the talk of the planet at that time was none other than Orenthal James Simpson. Yup, he was fresh out the Range Rover and all up in his trial. I remember having some pointed observations about the whole thing and got to scribbling about it in a teeny tiny pocket notebook. Don't ask me to recall the jokes they couldn't have been that good. I also remember going straight to my take on Bar Mitzvahs. I definitely recall doing some Jew Voice to a guy who was figuring the economics of putting together a lavish Bar Mitzvah. Hey, Eddie Murphy's first set was on boogers or something like that so cut me a break!
Anyway, I go to this audition and do my thing and...I got it! Turns out they weren't even looking for a Stand-Up. They started asking me where I performed, my goodness. I had no idea back then that I'd be asked that question a gazillion times again. But wait, what? I got it...what the heck did I...oh, it's some cabaret performance type thing, oh, okay, well, yeah sure I'll do it. Several weeks later I was set to do my first 'Gig' at the Westbeth Theater Center in NYC. Here's what I remember from that gig:
I was never more nervous in my life, not even close. All the 'girl stuff' paled in comparison. Acting on a crush that swirled around your stomach for what seemed like forever can cause a kid to melt into a puddle. This was a whole different animal. I was backstage literally ready to eat my way through the wood of the walls so that I could hide. I couldn't sit still and I was quite convinced that I was going to hear nothing but silence and that everyone in New York would know how much I sucked the next day. Yup, the back page of all the Dailies would proclaim the death of my career while mentioning that Knicks fans always suck at everything.
To add to my frayed nerves was the fact that my parents were there along with their best friends who I knew very well, plus my closest friend that I knew since I was a peach-fuzzed bowl cut runt in Junior High was also there. Here's how my set went...I cursed every other word. In fact, I'm pretty sure I had run-ons of nothing but sentences of curses. I should have just went out and yelled 'F#@K!' and walked off the stage, that would have been more artistic. Yet somehow some way I got laughs and the Booker loved me. My hand was shaken by a few audience members afterward but most of what I remember is my homeboy coming backstage right after I was finished and congratulating me by saying 'You finally did it man'.
I was way more relieved than happy. Kinda like losin' your virginity and yes, my first time was quite the crazy event and no you don't get that one.
At any rate, I had a steady gig! I couldn't tell you what the other acts were like, I was still a mess before going on and could care less if they were pulling veggies from their poop holes before I went on. I know that one of my topics was video phones. This was waaay before fancy cell phones but I had an inkling they were coming and spoke extensively how this would be evil and that you would never be able to get a chick on the phone because it would take her forever to get ready and look presentable for the conversation.
Anyway, I believe I performed there three or four times until I got a call from my Manager telling me that I wasn't going to be asked back for another show. The reason? I was too raunchy. Apparently the free flowing bouillabaisse of profanity had gotten to be too much. But you know what? I was thrilled! I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Wow, I'm so controversial. They can't handle me. The truth is too much for them to take. I'm not some pansy comic who sugar coats it, I come correct with the hot mustard! Well, that's what I was thinking back then.
So there I was standing in that telephone booth and it dawned on me that I was Comic without a gig.
I slowly turned outward to the lathered buzz that was the vibration of New York and realized I had to seek out an actual Comedy Club if I wanted to perform again.
My gulp was as loud as a cab hitting a pothole at eighty miles an hour with a family of four in the front seat.
Phone booths really should have had curtains for moments like this.
[Part II Next Week]
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