Oh, That’s Right, I Do Comedy!

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

 

                 My girlfriend has had a tumultuous week with major surgery, and will probably spend most of the summer in various forms of rehabilitative therapy. She will probably need 24/7 care for a while, so if I get any road gig where I can’t get back home that same night, it could present a problem. Of course, the powers that be have helped to make my diary as full of holes as my average 5-year-old pair of socks, so for the most part, I’m available for her, though there are plenty of other friends that have offered their services (possibly even staying over) if I have to be away.

                  What would make things lovely is if the bulk of my gigs are like the ones I had this last weekend, where the Friday gig was all of six tube stops away from her house. Working in London is preferable, anyway, and not only for the convenience. Granted, Friday’s gig was in Southgate, a North London suburb with what appears to be a similar demographic to Dagenham, but there’s something about the London ethos that even if it’s not right in the hub, you can be pretty assured that the average IQ of your audience will still be well above the plant life I’ve had to entertain in recent months. There have been times when I’ve worked London venues where the pompous “I’ve seen it all” attitude permeates, such that by the time they’ve stopped scrutinizing me and have decided I’m all right, I’m ready to finish up my set. Most of the time, London crowds are lovely, and that was the case in Southgate, thankfully.

                    They were slow to get going, but I attribute that to being the first act of the night in a venue that’s only doing their third comedy show, so still in the experimental stages. Mobile phones occasionally went off, as most of the audience members were comedy virgins who weren’t been told beforehand to shut the damn thing off, not realizing how they were setting themselves up to be vocally dismantled by whomever is on stage.  I still get annoyed when it happens, but this time was very forgiving, because in the Southgate venue as well as Saturday’s gig in Faversham (Kent), it was more a case of innocence than ignorance.

                       And though I might have bummed the other comics out backstage with the stories of my lady’s misfortune, it was very therapeutic to get it out there, and hope that I could spend 30 minutes away from something that I know will be weighing heavily on my mind for the foreseeable future. It’s cliché to say “She’d want it that way,” but she has actually said as much. Friday’s gig was good, Saturday’s very good, and that’s all I need right now. The money isn’t as good as the larger venues (both audiences numbered around 50-60), and my finances are in danger of going totally into the crapper, but at least from these gigs I once again remembered what the hell it is I do, and why I do it.  



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