| YOU WANT TO hear stupid? Major stupid? Stand-up comic. Youwalk onto a bare stage absolutely alone, no comfort, no help,no script or actors to support you, no lyrics and music to giveyou life--just yourself saying your own words out of your ownhead, telling each person, one on one, the weirdest corners ofyour psyche. And everybody is judging your personality,judging whether you are worth their money, whether youmake them happy. When they do not laugh, that silence is arejection of you personally, only you. Not your mother. Notyour piano player--if you have one. A thousand people in aroom are saying, "You stink. You're nothing." But here's what is even more stupid. In order to get onthat stage and walk that terrible tightrope, you strugglethrough years of humiliation and privation, feeling like themisfit of the world. For this job you have to be nuts, but it isthe craziness that makes you funny, makes you obsessed withyour career. It is craziness that makes you live for that hourfacing an audience which can destroy you at any moment. Yet,those are the truly happy times in my life, riding the laughterhigher and higher, feeling that euphoria, feeling washed inlove. Since my earliest memories, my dream has been to makea living doing that one thing--performing on a stage--whichmade me feel I belonged, made me feel adored and, paradoxi-cally, safe. These desperate needs are the legacy of my childhood,but my anger and blame are oddly mixed with gratitude. Mypain became a plus. Instead of leaving me permanently with- |
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