Right Now

I never wanted to live in Chicago. It was always supposed to be New York.

The pre-internet half of my childhood was full of classic movies, music, and television. I’d watch King Kong climb the Empire State Building, listen to Frank Sinatra start spreadin’ the news, get up early to watch the balloons march past Macy’s, and stay up late to see the ball magically defy gravity until the stroke of midnight. I was captivated by the Big Apple.

“If not New York then I'll settle for Hollywood,” I told myself, and set my sights on either coast. Every thought I had, every song I sang, and every movie I watched seem to pull me in diametrically opposed directions. Movies: LA! Plays: New York City! My own TV show: Hollywood! Musicals: New York!

Between my junior and senior years of high school I went to Chicago for the first (and I’m sure I imagined on that trip, my last) time, to audition for two colleges: New York University (Tisch) and the University of Southern California.

First came NYU, for three very serious people in a very serious room. I had a terrible audition. I was a small town kid in the big city for the first time and it got to me. I was nervous and it showed.

After that, I calmed down and had a good audition for USC. I was more confident and felt better afterwards.

My folks made me apply to the University of Kansas, too, so I would have a back-up plan in case I didn’t get into NYU or USC. I did, but there’s no way I would have gone there. I hate back-up plans and how was I supposed to stay in Kansas when I’d spent my entire childhood dreaming of one of the coastal cities?

Weeks later I got a short letter from NYU letting me know I hadn’t gotten accepted. It was disappointing but I knew it was coming. A few days after that, a large packet from USC arrived and I was accepted into the acting program. I was ecstatic. It was incredible - I would be going to one of my dream schools. (I had done it all thanks to hard work since my parents couldn’t afford to bribe my way in.)

I spent a year in California before my father passed away and I had to return to Kansas. I miserably finished school back home before heading back out to LA to “make it”…whatever that means. I slept on couches, struggled, and failed. Back to the Sunflower State I went again.

Soon after I proposed to my wife and we started planning our next move. We would save money and move to New York instead. I worked multiple jobs and moonlighted as an entertainer, while she finished school. Somewhere between summer and winter (fall, perhaps?) Steph thought we should start with Chicago first. She had friends there. It was closer to her family. She’d never lived in a huge city before. We could start there, then head to NYC after a couple years. “Okay,” I said, “will you be there?” (A longstanding joke with Steph about how I will have fun anywhere as long as I’m with her.)

With the exception of a year-long performance contract at Disney World, we’ve been in Chicago ever since. We moved here in 2011 and we’re coming up on 9 years. That’s about 8 years longer than I’d expected and the truth is, I never wanted to be here.

Most of the time I've still been thinking about LA or NYC and longing for another shot at succeeding there. I’ve spent countless hours comparing the worst parts of The Windy City to the best parts back east and out west. Every year I think we may move out there, then things happen. I dislocate a shoulder or wreck our car; one of us needs surgery or we encounter something equally unexpected, so we crack open our piggy bank like the glass jar in “UP” and use that “big city move money” for something else. Those big cities? Still on the back burner.

But here’s the thing...

I was in LA two weeks ago and it was my least favorite trip to SoCal I’ve ever had. I spent most of the time stuck in traffic. I was able to catch up with family briefly but it was so short that I didn’t really feel like I even saw the city. Usually I go to the ocean or a museum or something, but this time wasn’t special at all.

Then, I went to NY last weekend to see a Broadway show. The trip was fun but unfortunately all I remember is trash piled high on the ground and people constantly getting in my way everywhere I went. The subway was disgusting, the Museum of Natural History was disappointing, and everything is comically overpriced. It’s filthy and smelly and crowded. I’m still in awe of the opportunity and enormity of it all but the shine is starting to wear off.

When we flew in I could see the Chicago skyline beyond the wing of the plane and I had a feeling that I’ve ignored for far too long. I smiled to myself and realized how much I’ve grown to like it here.

At a moment’s notice I get to run along Chicago’s lake front; truly one of the best routes in the entire world. We have incredible food here and it’s allowed me to transform from a picky eater in my teenage years to a bit of a “foodie”. We have amazing museums, gorgeous architecture, and the best skyline views you’ll find anywhere. We have AMCs for the latest movies and a cinema within walking distance that still shows films on film. There’s amazing art - music, theater, comedy, and more - that never ceases to inspire me. And we have a small but amazing apartment with gorgeous views that I share with my best friend and the furriest, sweetest two cats you’ve ever seen. We wake up every day with plenty of space to sip coffee, do our crosswords, and be happy in this small corner of the world that we get to call our own.

Much of my life has been spent thinking about the next thing. The next show, the next year, the next plan, the next move to the next big city. But I’m done with all of that. From now on I’m only thinking about one thing: how lucky I am to be right here, right now.

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Other Thoughts:

• We were in NY to see my friend Derren Brown’s incredible show “SECRET” on Broadway. If you find yourself there before January 4th be sure to check it out. We grabbed dinner after the show and here’s a picture of Derren trying on my glasses before he realized how horrible my prescription is.

• I’m continuing my annual tradition today and running the Turkey Trot here in Chicago. Yet another thing I’m thankful for here in the Second (to none) City.

• What To Watch Next: Check out Mike Birbiglia’s “The New One” and Seth Meyers’ “Lobby Baby” on Netflix. Or “Knives Out” in theaters. I really enjoyed all three!

• Thank you for reading these essays. Wherever you find yourself this weekend, I hope you and your loved ones have a wonderful Thanksgiving! As always, I’ll be taking December off from the blog since I’m going to be traveling so much. See you in 2020!

Grateful

Two years ago my life was in chaos.

I returned from an out-of-state funeral to find our apartment had flooded. Water was everywhere, destroying a rug, sofa, and the wood floor. It took over a year to get someone out to finally replace it.

Last fall, renovations were just beginning. We moved all of the furniture into one room so the floor could be stripped and replaced. In the middle of it all, I was putting together a tour.

It was a challenging and frustrating time. It’s never fun to deal with contractors or file insurance claims or coordinate with a condo association, and we were doing it every single day for over a year. Plus, I was trying to work on my new show.

I always like to storyboard my act out so I have a visual idea of what to expect. So imagine me crammed into a small section of the bedroom, sandwiched between the dresser and sofa, affixing post-it notes to a large poster board while workers pried up floorboards in the adjoining room. That was the only way I could work.

My storyboard is simple - larger notes represent specific parts of the shows (one color for Mind Reading, one color for Monologues) and smaller notes represent moments (Music Cues, Jokes, Storytelling devices, etc.). It always takes a while to get the layout started but once it falls into place I have a colorful, concise outline of what I want to put onstage.

As furniture moved from room to room, the storyboard got lost in the shuffle. I told myself I’d get back to it after the floor was finished. There were more pressing things to worry about, so my show was quickly misplaced and forgotten.

It’s very easy to put my creative projects on hold. I promise myself I’ll “start that tomorrow” even though I usually end up being too busy to ever begin. The realities of being an adult are often all-consuming. All of my artistic endeavors often get pushed off to one side so I can complete other tasks. Sometimes you can mentally multi-task and other times your ideas get lost in the shuffle so you can finally have your apartment back together.

Last week I was rearranging my home office and there, inside an art portfolio, behind some other projects, was that original storyboard. The post-its were faded but the ideas were still there. Columns of concepts, still intact, waiting to be lifted off the page.

I sighed, frustrated by the thought of another delayed endeavor. Then it hit me:

That storyboard was the making of this year’s show. I had actually accomplished everything without even realizing it. In the midst of the chaos, I had somehow managed to finish everything on the board. There are only a few, minor changes but what I’d hoped to be doing last fall is the show I travelled with this year.

I’m always happiest when I’m fully immersed in a creative project. Head down, writing and researching - even if I’m surrounded by all of the furniture I own and there are workers pounding away in the other room - that’s how I love to spend my time.

At the time it seemed like the home projects were overshadowing my creative exploits, but now I realize it was actually the opposite. I was actually trying to create and write and dream and perform to move through the chaos and have something to work towards. It just took me until now to realize that the chaos of the past couple years was actually the start of my 2018 Chicago Theatre award-winning show.

Sometimes it takes a long time to realize that you’re doing the things you once dreamt of doing. Sometimes it takes a while to understand that you’re exactly where you need to be. Sometimes it’s a year and sometimes it’s even longer.

Give thanks today for how far you’ve come and what you did to get here. Be grateful for those that helped and the ones that made you stronger by standing in your way.

I’m thankful for finding ways to deal with the chaos and knowing that someday, somehow I’ll end up making sense of it all.

I hope you do, too.

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As always, I’m going to take a break from Thursday Thoughts while my travel schedule picks up over the holidays. Thanks for reading and see you in 2019.

Giving Thanks

I will never get used to the idea that I get paid to travel the world and blow people’s minds. As a three-year-old in my small hometown, my dream was to do just that. And somehow I grew up and found a way to make it happen.

My first homemade business card circa 1993. I never wanted to do anything else.

I’m on a quest, in pursuit of my best show and my best self onstage. I’m working on secret projects and posting public essays, all while traveling from city to city reading people’s minds.

I’m doing what I always wanted…but I will never get used to it.

I value each moment onstage, each early morning flight or late night commute. I treasure the jet lag and limited legroom. I live for it. It’s what I’ve always dreamt of and I can’t get enough of it.

You won’t find me phoning it in next week, next year, or three decades from now. I will never take this for granted.

So as we enjoy another annual feast, while counting down to the impeachment, I have a lot to be thankful for this year:

• The Mystery Tour
• My family
• My cats (especially the one that almost died)
• New friends from the fringe
• Seeing some of the best shows I’ve ever seen
• Seeing some of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been
• Meeting my heroes
• Persisting and resisting

But mostly, I’m thankful for YOU.

If you’ve ever read one of my posts…

If you’ve ever purchased a ticket to my show…

If you’ve ever sent me a message to discuss my work…

If you ever told me I was good enough (you know who you are!) when I didn’t believe it myself…

If you’ve ever booked me for your event…

If you’ve ever sat in the audience and given me a small fraction of your valuable time on this planet…

Thank you.