No Other Option

I’ve had an idea in my notebook for ten years. It’s a piece for my show that I’ve always wanted to try. It’s everything I like to do onstage: mind blowing, entertaining, funny, and fun to do.

The only problem? I’ve never actually done it during a show until a few days ago. Just this week I finally did it and IT KILLED. It was as good as I knew it would be.

What the hell took me so long?

I guess every time I went to try it I would talk myself out of it. I’d tell myself it wasn’t ready yet and that it needed more rehearsal. I’d fall back on my go-to material instead of just taking the plunge and going for it. I just kept putting it off.

When I was younger I taught myself to juggle by standing over a bed. The idea was simple: when I dropped a tennis ball I didn’t have to chase it across the room. I could just pick it up off the bed and keep trying. Progress was slow. So, I started juggling at the top of the stairs. Chasing my drops became a chore so my drops were fewer. I got better because there was no other option.

When I went to theater school my parents told me I should double major in business, too. “You’ll want to have a fall back plan,” they told me, just in case things didn’t work out. But I refused. I knew if there was a fall back plan then I would fall back on it. When I left school there was no other option except to do entertainment . . . so that’s exactly what I’ve been doing ever since.

That's the same kind of mentality I needed this week to actually bring that new piece onstage with me. I waited ten years to do it because I always had a fall back plan. It kept me from taking the risk and pushing myself to do more and be better.

This week I removed the safety net. I only packed my bag with enough props to execute the new piece and nothing more. There was no other option but to finally give it a shot. It was the final push I needed to succeed and (as is always the case when you step out of your comfort zone) I’m so glad I did.

So what's that thing you’ve been meaning to do? What’s that idea in your notebook that you’ve been putting off for a decade?

The time has come for you to get rid of the back up plan. Remove the safety net. Stand at the top of the stairs and get the balls in the air.

Look at that! You're juggling!

Feedback

Ten years ago I got an email from a man I had performed with during a variety showcase. This guy criticized my act and condescendingly told me how he could have done it better because of his “years of experience” and “expertise”.

At the time I was just trying shit out onstage in hopes of getting better and finding my voice. I was young. I had no direction or style. I barely had any stage time under my belt. I was just minding my own business and here was this guy invading my inbox with his “holier than thou” attitude.

I was devastated. And upset…and angry…and shocked. So I spent the next 24 hours crafting the perfect response, sent it off, and thought to myself: “That’ll show him.”

I never heard back. But that guy’s words echoed in my brain, haunting me for weeks afterwards. And gradually I started to make changes to my show just to move on and get that email out of my head.

Even though his ideas were horrible and I didn’t have to prove myself to that guy, it still bothered me enough that I went out of my way to appease a person I’ve only seen one night in my entire life. Unbelievable.

Flash forward to this summer and a similar experience…

An audience member emailed me to give some unsolicited advice about my show. He was cordial but slightly demeaning, telling me that I shouldn’t do certain things because he didn’t like it.

My first instinct was to laugh. Seriously, who emails a performer to tell them to change their act? If I don’t like something I just move on and assume it wasn’t for me to begin with…

After that, I started thinking about how to respond. I needed to be firm, but polite. I wanted to hold my ground and explain myself. But then I caught myself and had a wonderful realization: “I don’t owe this guy anything.”

I realized that it was a horrible decision to let one person dictate the direction of my show. No single person should have a say in my material, my wardrobe, my style, or my approach to performance. The only person who decides where I’m going is me.

It took me a decade of shows and thousands of comments, messages, calls, and e-mails to understand that, but when that thought came into focus it was crystal clear:

“No one else gets to determine the direction I’m going in.”

As I was sitting at my desk, pondering that email, another alert came in. It was another email, from a different audience member who had been at the same exact performance. She wrote:

“I was at your Friday night show. I was visiting my in-laws and suggested an adult night out for the six of us for dinner and your show. I was slightly nervous planning this evening, because what if the show was a flop?!?! The most difficult to please person said to me on the way out, “this was a winner.” Yay for you and me!! Ha ha! I loved that you got so many people involved in your show, made it personal and interactive. You are witty and engaging and I was sad when it ended! Days later and we are still talking about your act. Well done. I’ll have my eye out for you to come to my area. Best of luck with your career - you do fantastic work!”

Talk about perfect timing. That was all I needed to hear to know that I was on the right path.

Oh, and I only responded to one of those emails…but I’m sure you put that together already.

---

Other Thoughts:

• Comedian Gary Gulman has been sharing brilliant tips of twitter all year. (Coincidentally as I was working on this post this week he posted this tweet. Glad to see I was thinking on the same page as one of the greats.) If you’re looking to be a better writer/performer or just enjoy good stand up, you should probably go follow him.

• All upcoming shows are posted here.

• Are you subscribed on YouTube? I have some awesome video projects coming up soon.

• Here’s a killer photo from a gig last week at Stony Brook University in Long Island:

The Final Festival

I just arrived in Alberta for the Edmonton International Fringe Festival!

Edmonton is the oldest and largest fringe theatre festival in North America and I’m thrilled to be one of the 230 amazing shows being performed here this year.

Two years ago I started working on the skeleton of this show. It started as a small idea in the margin of a notebook, then turned into a single monologue, and later morphed into a full-blown show. If it wasn’t for my lovely wife Stephanie and brilliant collaborator, Frank Fogg, this show wouldn’t be what it is today.

My venue in Edmonton, the Old Strathcona Performing Arts Centre.

The summer tour has been full of ups and downs this year. For the first 12 performances I changed the show every night. I was tweaking the script and removing other pieces entirely. It just didn’t feel right - but that’s why you do fringe.

In the midst of it all, I’ve still been traveling back and forth from the tour to Chicago for my weekly performances of MIND READER. (I won’t be doing that during Edmonton, though.) Sometimes I’ve been so exhausted from travel that I’d start doing my weekly show at fringe or vice versa. I’d realize it part way through and have to adjust accordingly!

But now, after three months of touring, rewriting, rehearsing, and preparing…I feel like it’s ready. It’s still not exactly where I want it to be - but I ran out of time. You can’t be a perfectionist about a show like this or it’ll never get onstage. Done is better than perfect.

For now, it’s a fireworks show with a hidden meaning. I lull the audience into a sense of complacency with rapid-fire demonstrations and only then do I sneak in the philosophical ideas that matter most to me.

The more festivals I do the more I realize that I’m less of a mentalist and more of a storyteller. I love telling stories, it just happens that mind reading is the vehicle with which I tell them.

I’ve written more about this on other posts, but my goal with the fringe tours was always to work on an edgier, riskier show. I wanted to take chances and push myself as an artist. And, I feel like that’s exactly what I’ve done.

Eleven fringes in two years has been a life-changing experience. I like stacking my show up against other shows - storytellers, musicals, plays, comedians, and more - and seeing how it compares. I’ve enjoyed listening to feedback (positive and negative) and learning how to get better quickly.

And, I’ve learned to ignore the critics and the naysayers who don’t get what I’m doing. Sometimes they’re other know-it-all artists who think they’ve found the only way to do art correctly. Sometimes it’s a journalist who doesn’t care for your genre. And sometimes it’s yourself.

The more you put yourself out there, the more negativity you invite. So I’ve learned to ignore it, keep working, and believe in what I’m doing.

This will be my last festival for awhile. There are a few other projects that I have lined up, so I probably won’t go on tour next summer. But there are seven chances to see me live in Edmonton before I stop doing this version of the show and start working on something new.

Stay tuned! The tour may be ending but I’m only getting started.