Friday August 10th, 2012 – Cuba City, WI
If I ever do manage to experience even the tiniest taste of success, one cliché I won’t use is that it was “beyond my wildest dreams.” I don’t think it’s possible. I’ve got some pretty wild dreams, but they were put on hold tonight in Cuba City, WI as I did a show at a place called ‘The Depot’.
This wasn’t about fulfilling any dreams. This was about paying bills. Most of the entertainment business and life in general boils down to either paying dues or paying bills, and nobody can ever skip the first part. EVERYONE has to pay their dues - no exceptions. But then it’s reward time.
I’ve been paying my dues and then some for decades now. It’s time for my payoff. What that is exactly I can’t say for sure, but I know I’ve got a lot of credit on my account. At some point, I’ve got to believe the slot machine of life will throw me some sevens and my jackpot will finally hit.
It sure would be a cruel joke if it didn’t, but it could happen. There are no guarantees for any of us, and I don’t take anything for granted at any time, especially these times. I was grateful for the gig tonight, as it’s my last one on the books all month. I’ve been so busy working the last several weeks I haven’t had time to look for anything else. Again, it’s just too hard to keep track of it all.
Someone could call with available work at any time, and my chances are more than decent. It’s been happening consistently for years and it’s not like I think I’m going to be shut out for the rest of my life - but I can’t count on it. Sometimes work flows, and sometimes it ebbs. This is an ebb.
Tonight’s show was typical of literally thousands I’ve done over many years across the country in bar rooms that aren’t really equipped for fulfilling showbiz dreams. They’re not equipped for a lot of things other than keeping the red in the noses of drunks.
My dreams are not part of the mix in these scenarios. A bar owner wants to get more drinkers in his bar, and a booker plugs me in.
I need money, so I do it. Period. Simple formula. That scenario has been played out for decades if not centuries in comedy, music, stripping and prostitution. You name it. We’re the whores and they’re the pimps, but none of them are forcing us to do anything. We do it of our own free will.
That’s what I did tonight. I knew this wasn’t going to be Carnegie Hall, and the guy who books it is also a comedian and knows the game. He books on the side and I’ve always had an excellent working relationship with him. This was a chance to make a few needed dollars and nothing else.
The scheduled opening act’s car broke down, but my friend Russ Martin rode with me to get in a guest set. He’s still paying his dues, and needed the stage time. He didn’t expect to have to do a full set, but it was great experience for him to be thrown into the creek and have to sink or swim.
He swam, but only for about fifteen minutes. I had to cover the rest of a show scheduled for 90 minutes, which I easily did. What wasn’t easy was shutting up the drunken woman sitting in the front row that would NOT shut up. I got through it, got paid, got out and got home. No emotion. I’ve played this game before, and have a thick skin because of it. Back to the wild dreams chase.
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