​Reflecting on your year is very important in comedy and the arts. You have to take an inventory of the type of gigs you had, the jokes you told, and way you moved through the year and ask if you want to repeat that or change it up. Because the saddest thing in the world is a comic desperately holding onto a thing afraid its their only way to get stage time. What I've found in my life is once you let something go, you can usually expect something to replace it. It might not be what you wanted, but in the words of the Rolling Stones, "you might not get what you want, but if you try sometimes you'll get what you need." 

Rethink Your Jokes 
Jerry Seinfeld loves perfecting the act. He writes a lot but he wants to keep jokes for a long time to know he's going on stage with tried and true material. Other comics go more topical and change it up every couple years, burn the material on a special, and move on. Both are fine depending on where you are in your career. I do a lot of 30-45 minute sets on the road and need set jokes to have to fill time and know the response. I also play a lot with crowd work and working on local bits to make the crowd at least feel like everything is off the top of my head. 

But there are a few jokes this year that have finally ran the light. A have a couple dating jokes that just don't get the pop anymore. And there are a few reasons.

One, my relationship with the women in those jokes changed a lot, creating a new tone in my voice when talking about them. Even I sensed my boredom talking about them. Plus, my jokes were written forty pounds ago, so I look different now and the guy who went through those awful dates isn't the same dude writing this article today. 

So I lost a good six to seven minutes of jokes this year, on top of a few month to month jokes about movies like Sinners that just doesn't work after their time in the zeitgeist runs away. I'll tell you, when I see comics telling jokes from 2018 because they were brilliant then and hack now, my heart folds up inside of me. 

Don't be afraid to throw out the jokes that ran the light (metaphorically speaking), and start the process of creating new jokes that are even better. I recently watched Mark Normand and Sam Morril interview Jerry Seinfeld on the podcast We Might Be Drunk and Normand talked about watching old bits to remind and reteach himself how to write great bits. The best bit I ever wrote is my "Do I Have Down Syndrome?" closer (On my Dry Bar Special on YouTube), and I never really topped that, but I'm still trying.   

Focus on the Business Side of Show Business
Don't be afraid to know and appreciate your worth. If you're still in year 1-3, take all the gigs and do anything that provides you with stage time. But if you're in years 4-6, try to think about what you enjoy most and make that the goal for 2026. 

I have a few rules 11 years in:

1. I have to get paid (unless I decide there is value outside of that)
2. I don't travel in dangerous conditions (snow in winter)
3. I don't host shows I'm not producing (Why would I be the face of a show where the producer makes awful choices?)
4. I don't want restrictions outside of actual reasons (example: Don't swear at a church show)
5. I don't rebook comics who become difficult (I think that's self explanatory)

But these are business decisions. I'll gladly do comedy all over the country, and 23 states later, I have. But shows need to make sense or I'm going to become bitter. Bar shows, hole in the wall nights out, drunken hecklers, etc. just aren't fun anymore. Fighting the crowd watching sports games isn't a "challenge" anymore. It's a waste of time. For others, it's important to get those reps in. You'll thank yourself for those shows later on. But today, I want to enjoy my experiences and get paid for them. 

Often, bookers and comics will say, "Why do you want to get paid for ten minutes?" My response is an old Picasso line.

Picasso was at a cafe and a woman asked him to doodle something on a napkin. He obliged and said, "One hundred dollars, please." Shocked, the lady said, "It took you thirty seconds for that," to which the famous painter said, "No, it took me thirty years to draw that in thirty seconds." 

Never be afraid to say no to a gig because it's not worth the money or time after a certain time. I have said to people, "Other shows have paid me X for these jokes, so it would unfair if you only paid me Y for the same show." Steal that line if you want. 

Shape Goals You Can Reach and Almost Reach 
I'm a big believer in having set goals you can control. You can't control if a booker wants to put you up. But you can control how many times you reach out to them through email. You have to think smarter, not just push harder.

Maybe a goal for you is to post a clip of stand up a week. Maybe it's to attend an open mic every Tuesday at The Improv. Maybe it's to write five new jokes a day. Those are actual quantitative goals that have clear metrics to judge success by. 

Saying things like, "I want to make $100,000 this year in comedy" or "I want to be funnier" is a great goal, but are you set up to do that? Do you have the bookers and fellow comics to reach out to? If not, then the goal is to figure out how many shows at $500-$1500 you can book and then how many shirts or bumper stickers you can sell to offset the lack of show pay. Maybe you try to monetized through Instagram by posting more. Maybe you focus more on corporate shows or church shows that pay well for one nighters. Maybe you build out a great website to loo more professional. Everyone is at a different place in the journey. Look at your GPS and see what the next stop is. 

When I was in college, my speech teacher asked us to solve a problem in society. Our example was solving homelessness. Everyone just blurted out, "Build more homes." But the professor said, "Do you think people are homeless on the streets because they don't have a place? Or do they lack money?"

We all sat stunned. Homeless people wouldn't be able to afford the newly bought homes, making building new homes an invalid solution. But if there we more rehab centers, job training courses, and free education programs, they'd be able to get the skills they need to create an income to get an apartment and then set new housing goals. 

Making more money in comedy or being better isn't just "get more gigs" - it's about focusing on building material and networking that opens doors to paying gigs and finding crowds you connect with. That might take all year, but if 2026 was dedicated to building a wildly successful 2027, then its worth the time put in. 

Final Thoughts
This is last newsletter of 2025. I wrote approximately 50 newsletters this year. That's roughly 60,000 words. As the clock ticks and tocks toward 12:01am, I am reminded this year had a lot of blessings, but also a lot of personal letdowns. 

I can't control everything in my life, and yet, I learned I can control my attitude and actions. As can you. You might feel like everything sucks right now or you might think everything is amazing. You might feel stuck in the middle. You might be one break away. But you can always pivot. You can always take a break. You can always ramp up your writing, emailing, and performing. 

This year I performed in 100 shows, down from last year. But I wrote a lot, including numerous new bits and five screenplays that I'll be pitching to producer friends with connections. I had to pivot my day job responsibilities to get health insurance back. I did a lot to create new opportunities and still meet my "adult" responsibilities.

​I'm not a fan of "new year new me" lines. You're still you. And time is a social construct. So before you just throw silly cliches around, step back, make a plan, and create a 2026 you can use to build your comedy career towards the stepping stones that are important to you.       

​With Christmas just a few days away, I wanted to tell you thank you to all of you. For TWO YEARS this newsletter has been in production, and so many of you have been amazing in interacting with it. Putting up with my pontificating and ramblings has been the highlight of 2024 and 2025 for me.  
So, like last month, I wanted to give you my list of the top ten Christmas movies to watch with the family (some of them at least) this season. This list is the definable, undisputed list of Christmas films, and if you disagree, I will make sure you never get on Potluck or your name gets drawn out of the bucket at the Improv. 

Just a little FYI, I'm not a fan of A Christmas Story, and Christmas Vacation is a very comedy at times, but overall I just never liked the film as a film. I'm sure I'm wrong, but I don't know why yet. Oh, and Die Hard is the actual #2 but I don't want people mad at me putting it there, so just imagine it there. 

Top Ten Christmas Films

1. The Muppet Christmas Carol
This is the most joyful, wonderous, entertaining Christmas movie I've ever seen. It tells the most Christmas of stories, retelling Charles Dickens' classic ghost and time travel story from the point of view of the Muppets. Plus, Michael Caine was robbed of an Oscar nomination as Scrooge. Okay, maybe a Golden Globe nomination. But if you have a family member who hasn't seen it yet, stream it on Disney+ over the long weekend. 

2. Miracle on 34th Street 
Santa is real. I don't care what my dad told me at three years old. And this 1947 classic about Santa's visit to earth, only to be treated like an insane asylum member is both poignant and charming. The best part is when all the children write letters to Santa and a judge goes, "Little children need this man to keep this myth going!" Because in law school they teach you that defense. 

3. It's a Wonderful Life 
Remember that classic suicidal comedy fantasy about a guy who loses everyone's money and then an out of work angel tries to remind him that life is worth living because he's gonna get some great tail in life? Frank Capra is at his most Capra-ist and Jimmy Stewart does his best Jimmy Stewart impression as himself in this sweet as a candy cane love letter to small town America. 

4. A Charlie Brown Christmas         
If you have any atheist or non-Christian religious friends, Linus gives you the gospel to share with them in the best Bible reading Ted Talk ever drawn. Everything about this short animated classic is enduring. From the beautiful score to the wild group dancing, you will never not be entertained. Plus, the phallic Freudian impotent tree being erected must have made some animator giddy when drawing that scene of upright redemption.   

5. The Holdovers 
You know that weird relative no one wants to invite to Christmas dinner? Paul Giamatti plays him to a T in Alexander Payne's heartwarming film about the thee loneliest people in the world trapped in a boarding school on Christmas break. It is essentially three characters all coming to grip with their sad existential place in the universe, but with some big laughs and a great soundtrack. This is the most recent Christmas classic.  

6. Home Alone 
It's 1991 and you're in a movie theater watching a ten year old boy beat the living sh*t out of Oscar winner Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern. It's the greatest day of your life by far. Macaulay Culkin is the kid actor of his generation, and this dark fantasy that clearly stole it's third act from Nightmare on Elm Street (go watch Freddy's demise and see the shot by shot homage) still holds up thirty plus years later. 

7. Gremlins (Kept it green for obvious reasons)
Tiny green monsters take over a Frank Capra-esque town in Joe Dante and Chris Columbus's brilliant satire. It's still scary and dark in that classic 1980's way like ET and Poltergeist, but still family friendly. Plus you get to watch some GRADE A racial stereotyping in the old shopkeeper and a great collection of green slime everywhere. A perfect intro to horror films for your younger movie goer. 

8. Elf 
The Will Ferrell man-child persona was created in this whimsical winter wonderland fantasy about a grown man who thinks he's an elf. This one could have been overwrought Christmas cheer, but Peter Dinklage and James Caan give this a lot of much needed cynicism and serious counterplay, like Michael Caine did as Scrooge. I wasn't a fan the first time I saw this, but it won me over eventually. Clearly in 2003 I was going through some shizzz. 

9. The Nightmare Before Christmas 
When people tell me this is more of a Halloween film, I just have to pull out my Masters of English and go, "Christmas is in the title, you nimrods!" Tim Burton's vision is on full display here (he only produced, Henry Selick directed), and Disney objected to this film's final cut at first, but now, like good capitalists, turned this film into their whole personality at Disneyland between October through December. When Jack Skellington takes over for Santa, chaos erupts. That's all you need to know about this claymation masterpiece.               

​10. Bad Santa 
So I needed to put one "adult" comedy on this list, and Bad Santa is the perfect film for the raunchy side of Christmas. Billy Bob Thornton gave it his all as a mall Santa who robs the malls he works at in this Terry Zwigoff R-rated naughty list classic. The film reminds us that only sweet natured overweight nerds on the spectrum can melt the heart of a criminal. Plus, Thornton and Lauren Graham of Gilmore Girls fame have an actually funny romance in a film that is more Coen Brother than it has the right to be.    

​Let's face it, crowd work is the word these days in stand up. If you perform in a show and don't do crowd work, often the audience will try to draw it out of you. Because of the amount of crowd work clips flooding TikTok and Instagram, audiences have convinced themselves this is the way. It's not too far off from when "impressions" were the big fad. Everyone had their Arnold Schwarzenegger or Bill Clinton voice ready to go back in the day, and now everyone has to brush up on their conversation skills in the realm of crowd work comedy. 

If you ask an audience member what their favorite part of the show was, they'll usually say when the comic worked the crowd. When you ask a comic what the worst part of the show was, it was when they had to work the crowd. People think writing jokes is easy and talking to people is hard. That's because people think they're hysterical but not interesting.

People Think Off the Cuff Is Harder 
Think about that for a second. People think they can write jokes, but showing interest in others is hard. For comics, 90% of crowd work is just letting a person say something and then repeating it and watching everyone laugh. 

"What do you do for a living , sir?"

"I'm in pharmaceuticals."

"So, a drug dealer."      

LAUGH. 

It's hacky yet reliable. But in the eyes of the audience, it's actually more authentic. They know you didn't know what the guy would say - yet somehow you turned it into a joke. That's what impresses them. 

Had this been a dinner party, you would have asked "How long have you been in pharmaceuticals?" But in comedy you go straight for the joke. That's the twist or turn audiences wouldn't dare try in real life. But had the comic gone on stage and said, "So I work at CVS pharmacy. I'm a legal drug dealer. Anyone need any Ozempic?" maybe the crowd laughs. Maybe they groan. But when it feels off the cuff, they go wild.      

But the great irony is people think that this is harder to do than actually writing a real joke with a setup and punchline. 

Failure First, Laughs Second
Crowd work, like anything else takes time and patience to perfect. About three years ago I saw crowd work as the new trending vibe in stand up. So, I started dedicating 1/3 of my set to the most awful crowd work every. I would bomb horribly. Like, I once did so bad I hid in the kitchen of a venue after a show. But after a lot of trial and error I was able to figure out my crowd work strengths and weaknesses. 

In the beginning I was actually quite mean. I would try to roast people more than just make comments or quick witted observations. But you have to cross lines to know where you feel comfortable. For me, it became a magic trick of using my "good guy" persona against myself by acting as if every woman in the room wanted to be with me, usually after making fun of how silly and dumb I am for the first five to ten minutes. Instead of roasting the crowd, I reversed gears and roasted myself by turning myself into a silly alpha that I'm clearly not. But to get into that headspace I had to fail repeatedly.  

How To Tap Into Your Crowd Work Skill
Here is where it gets tricky. Crowd work is either a comic fully embracing a sort of "on the spectrum" reaction to what's going on in the room OR it's being that class clown that makes people at work and in life laugh. Either you ask questions like an alien from Mars, trying to gather awkward information or you take every word said and turn it into a zinger. 

Dane Cook takes the info from the crowd and makes silly observations. Matt Rife tends to go more the roast route, making fun of the young girls screaming at him. Mark Normand can go either way. But there's a few major differences in their approach that's reliant on their appearance and history with comedy. 

Cook is the one time top dog in comedy. He was a movie star for a few years too, staring in big budget rom-coms. He's also been the villain to many, even being called a hack and joke thief. So if he gets too mean, he'd lose the crowd and they'd heckle from the cheap seats. 

Rife is considered so good looking, that he can get away with being a little more offensive. He's a young man being a bro. If Cook or a middle aged "mid" attractive guy responded the way he did, they'd be boo'd off the stage. It's his boyish charm that glides him through the crowd work. 
Normand is a mixture of the sweet and sour. He can be whimsical and silly but also a ruthless joke assassin. He taps into an old school style of comedy, with a shrug after every appropriate or inappropriate crowd work joke. 

But these people have a clear personality and persona that allows them the freedom to play in that sandbox. If you want to do crowd work, you have to be willing to do the work as a writer to find a voice that allows you to use crowd work to either double down on your style or to reverse your stage presence and create a fresh surprise. 

You Might Have To Be Born With It
While I believe anyone can write a joke, I'm not sure everyone can be a (good) crowd work comic. Steve Martin talks about great stand up being that sort of "Id" where you get people to laugh like you did in high school. You reach into an inherit almost "force like" power where you tap into an instinct. Writing jokes and practicing at open mics can help put the proper finish or shine on a bit. Crowd work is in the moment. Even a "canned response" can go wrong because the previous crowd was just different, whereas there are jokes I've said over the years that I just know will go over well regardless of the venue, city, or audience. 

At some point you have to trust your comedy instinct. I started becoming better at crowd work when I didn't "think" about the joke but instead went with a word association game. Someone says something, and whatever first came to me I just went with. It's a high wire act, no doubt. And even I am surprised by what comes out of me sometimes, but by tapping into my instinct, and embracing it, I've found a solid way to keep material feeling fresh.

Final Thoughts
Right now, crowd work is the best bet to go viral on TikTok. It's also the fastest way to tank a set. But it's also a great tool to sharpen if you have the chance. Too often, comics only get up a few times a month and don't have the luxury to try to build up a few ways to deal with disengaged crowds and hecklers. But, I would encourage you to try a few Q & A sessions with audiences, even if for just a minute or two. 

You might find a new bit. I just wrote a whole two minutes about being a dentist in a hick part of town where no one has teeth and explaining to bank why you can't pay back the loan. It was something that stemmed from a crowd work moment. I also learned a lot of what crowds are willing and not willing to hear from me. 

​Some comics never do it. And they have great careers. But if you are thinking of moving into this area of stand up, I encourage you to go from the gut and risk it all. Worst case scenario is you just get off at the light. Like any other show.   

Most of us want to reach the highest levels of fame. I don't care where you are in your comedy, acting, improv, or music career - you want that big paycheck. Or you at least wouldn't oppose it. And that's not a bad thing. Ambition is a wonderful motivator. It's ambition that helps guide us and help track our success. It's hard to take a proper inventory of our life's accomplishments if we don't have a measuring stick. But is there a cost of reaching our highest levels? We know there is, intellectually speaking, but emotionally we tend to ignore the red flags and sometimes push away those we are supposed to put before our own ambition. 

This is the reason I so enjoyed the new Netflix film (debuting on 12/5) called Jay Kelly. It's Noah Baumbach's comedic meditation on the life of the rich and famous. In this story, it's the title character played by George Clooney who is examined for his choices - most of them ambitiously selfish and with real world consequences. And I highly encourage you to watch it both for its entertainment value and for it's meta deconstruction of reaching the highest point of the mountain of success, only to find it lonely and cold at the top. 

Fame Destroys Family and Friendships 
When we meet Jay Kelly at first, he's a beloved actor on set. The cast and crew love him. He's a star. But soon we see how his daughters view him. One daughter no longer wants to talk to him. The other appears embarrassed by him. There are whispers of ex wives we never meet and there are friends from his past who feel betrayed by him. 

One character many of us can relate to is Billy Crudup as Timothy, a former roommate of Jay's who was the top student in their acting class. Jay betrayed him in their youth and they have a confrontation over which side of the story is true. Plus there is the dying director who gave Jay his big break, but Jay isn't willing to help him get his last project off the ground. Anyone who has been in this game for over 5 years years knows these characters in real life. 

Watching one comic skyrocket into the stratosphere as you have to sit back can be deflating, especially when you were considered the stronger comic. And not wanting to return a favor because it no longer suits you is a struggle many of us face as we climb the ladder or become the victim of as others get passed at clubs. 

I know I've made numerous professional and personal sacrifices to do what I get to do. And watching so many comics quit after years of work because they couldn't make any breakthroughs is hard. And when you feel them being a bit jealous of the success - it's tougher because they were supposed to be happy for you (and for "us" we tell ourselves). 

On top of that, dealing with missing out on friends and family events because of prescheduled gigs is hard to explain. Normal people have their weekends open for weddings and parties. If I'm at a wedding, I'm the officiant. If I go to a party, then that means I'm not making money that weekend. This life is not for those who want normal. Having a healthy relationship is nearly impossible if you're on the road every other weekend. What I appreciated about the film is that it doesn't shy away from the bitter sweetness of the success to loneliness ratio. 

Your Best Friends Are Often Tied To Your Success 
The best relationship in the film is between Jay Kelly and his manager Ron, played by an enduring Adam Sandler. The constant elephant in the room is that all of the people who stick around Jay are paid to be there. Yes, they might be friends, but it's attached to a 15% commission. So many times in stand up you realize your friendship with a comic was tied to your ability to book them for shows, drive them to gigs, or pay for their open mic spots. Not all, but you tend to see how once your service is no longer needed or can be provided, you no longer are part of their lives. 

This goes both ways. In the film, Sandler's Ron finds out Jay didn't invite him to a party for his daughter, while Jay was invited to numerous events in his family's life. It's this reality that always makes you second guess a person's loyalty. 

I've personally noticed this in my life. When I'm booking a lot of shows, I get more DM's. When I'm not, I might not even get responses to my "Hey what's up" messages. It's a sad reality that many comics are social climbers, and this film plays that up well. At the end of the day it's a "I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine" industry, and Baumbach questions the value of that type of relationship with pathos and humor perfectly. 

Fame is a Drug Many Want To Hit Again and Again
At the heart of the film is Jay's relationship to fame. He's beloved by strangers, while being reviled by friends and family. No wonder he hides in his public persona from his responsibilities as a man, husband, and father. It's just easier to walk the streets and have people fawn over you. 
I can tell you, it's quite a rush doing gigs on the road and people want to take a picture with you after the show. Why would I want to be at home or working a thankless job where no one wants to take a picture with me. 

Women routinely ask me if I want to get a drink after the show. Men ask questions about stand up to live cathartically through me. Younger comics ask for advice. Back home, I'm just a broke guy who struggles to get by. But in the middle of the country, I'm a celebrity. And I'M NOT EVEN FAMOUS. I'm just the night's entertainment. And they love me - for a moment. 

In the film, Jay has a requirement in his contract that wherever he goes the venue or production must provide him cheesecake. He doesn't even like cheesecake. It's a classic metaphor of the overabundance of praise celebrities receive - sometimes not even wanted. On the road, there's free food, free drinks, and access to areas of the club and venue others never get to see. But once you no longer are on the bill, that access gets cut off and you're reminded of your place in the universe. 

There is nothing quite like seeing your face all over a casino in lights, only to see a new comic's face in the same place the Sunday morning you check out of the hotel.  

Final Thoughts
With Jay Kelly coming out this week, I encourage you to make time for it and reflect on your own ambitions and goals. It's a complex film that argues the pros and cons of seeking a life of fame. You might be celebrated one day and discarded out the next. Many of us might find ways to relate to the Jay character, but in reality many of us are the Billy Crudup and Adam Sandler characters. We live in the shadows of more successful people who let us be part of the journey due to their own ambition.  

​Most of us aren't that successful, yet many of us made sacrifices in the hopes of becoming that next level comic or actor. Maybe we can be regretful or sad we never reached the top of the mountain, but maybe we can also feel relief we never gave up our soul to inherit a world that would never be there for us anyway.