For a little over 4 full years I worked at a comedy club. 18 months was during a pandemic, but everything I'm sharing with you today is still relevant to how most "B" Clubs and "C" Clubs work. "A" Clubs would be where only the top comics perform, and the clubs have a world-wide brand. The Improv. The Comedy Store. The Laugh Factory. In middle America, Denver Comedy Works (CO), Wiseguys (UT, NV), The Comedy Cellar (NY, NV) and Zanies in Illinois have all built reputations as the premier destinations for top talent to perform. If you can make it there, as a paid regular or headliner, you can make it anywhere. "B" Clubs are much more accessible. Places that rely on showcases with newer comics, but they still get the big names occasionally because they have 150-250 seats. "C" Clubs are either very new or rely only on young and rising talent, with usually only 50-100 seats available for audiences. It's important to understand the ABC's of comedy clubs because if you are expecting a B or C Club to act like an A Club, you're going to be greatly disappointed, as their goals are different. What I want to do is breakdown the way B and C Clubs view upcoming comics and the business as a whole. They might be frustrating and make you feel like you aren't progressing or even needed, but that's just their MO (mode of operating). They are usually more worried about making rent and payroll than paying comics. They usually are thinking about food menus instead of booking the week's lineups. They are thinking less like a cornerstone of comedy and more like the small business they are. In my experience (over 40 jobs overlapping in the last 30 years of employment from 13-42) I can tell you that most small business (revenue ranging from $1 million to $5 million with 50-100 employees) aren't very efficient. The owners are pretty greedy and incompetent, rarely listen to advice, and act like they know everything about business. So, when you ask "Why is this club doing this to me?" keep in mind they don't know either. They are acting from a place of desperation. When I worked at Viacom, Costco, and Amgen, billion dollar companies, they had their ducks lined up in a row. They had systems, protocols, and hierarchies that kept workflows efficient. Usually there were unions or contracts or other forms of accountability to maintain operational excellence. Uncle Haha's Comedy Club in a street mall is not one of those places. So, let's look at the misconceptions and interpretations to why the local club you hate but beg to book you behaves the way it does. No One "Hates" or "Forgot" About You First off, I'll play nice. Uncle Haha's Comedy Club doesn't hate or forget you. As someone who once had access to the databases, there are over 20,000 comics in the databases. Even smaller C Clubs use Excel spreadsheets with thousands of names. But keep in mind, there are only so many shows and so many spots and the squeaky wheels get the grease. Are you doing what they asked? Sending in avails? Showing up to auditions? Hanging out time to time? I know you feel like they are going out of their way to ignore you. They aren't. Because I know for a fact lineups are partially copied and pasted into other lineups. You know why? Because it's easier. And because those lineups had good numbers. They don't hate you or forgot about you. You just didn't do what their simple little system requires. Unfortunately, their system probably doesn't work out well with your schedule or ego. I've been there. "Why didn't they think of me for that?" Because the people they did think about were in their face at the time of the decision. I used to pick students to run open mics and host shows at Flappers all the time. Because the booker would ask, who is a good student? The ones I was teaching, who fit the mold, got the gig. I'm sure there were other comics I knew, but the club wanted a student. Decisions are rarely made with you in mind to hurt you. If you don't like the process of Uncle Haha's, then that's the key to come back when you reached the level they want you at to get the gigs you think you deserve. The Real Reason Pay is Little to Nothing Everyone wants to know why they don't get paid for their show. I have a general rule. If I book you over 10 minutes on a show, I pay you. If I'm asking you to host, I pay you. If it's a 5-10 minute set, you're welcome. I don't care if the show sells tickets or not. Your 5-10 minutes could have easily been spread out amongst the other comics, especially if no come came to watch you do comedy. B and C Clubs have waitstaff, cooks, managers, sound techs, and other positions to pay first, by law. Food sales cannot always cover that. "A" Clubs have the above costs too, but when Trevor Wallace and Tom Segura are selling out every weekend, at $25-$100 tickets, they can afford to pay the middle and opener. In fact, most comics only make maybe $15-$100 at an A Club showcase night. Unless they're headlining The Comedy Store, they aren't taking the night's revenue. If you feel like you're worth $25-$200+ a show, then run a show, sell to your fan base, collect the money, and dish out the money to who you find worthy of pay. If you don't like their business model, then don't ask to be a part of it. This is like applying for a volunteer job and then complaining you didn't get paid. "Papering the Room" is the Best Idea They Have The other reason you can't feel disrespected by the club's lack of generosity is because they might not have made any money to actually pay the comics. In stand up, most shows are what we call "papering the room" with "free" tickets. There are telemarketers and newsletters offering free tickets to patrons because deep down they know the combined costs of their lineups plus two item minimums aren't worth the deal. People vote with their wallets, and unless the comics on stage are worth $25 plus dinner, people need something comped. And once they don't pay, they'll never pay again - unless it's Fluffy or Kevin Hart. Sadly, B and C Club's best idea is to just comp the seats. They don't want to run community outreach marketing programs, membership programs, generate lineups that have a real through-line, pay for top talent, or pay for ads. They want the newbies to bring and the staff to call previous guests (YOUR FRIENDS!) to come back. When I ran Flappers University, my most successful program was the FU+ Pass. For $50 a year you got a locked in rate for classes and free workshops. This annual subscription model is how AMC and Netflix are building regular customers, and super markets and clothing store's loyalty card programs produce discounts that inspire return business. They aren't giving away "free" stuff hoping you'll buy when you walk in. The AMC Stubbs program paid for the upgraded seats you enjoy now. If you want to know how effective the FU+ Pass was, when I walked away, ownership stopped it immediately and raised prices, because that's all they know how to do Clubs need to update their marketing, but that costs money, and when they give away comedy, they won't give money to you. They Hope You'll Become Famous And Help Them Down the Road Want to hear something really weird? They actually hope you become famous. B and C Clubs hope you'll go viral, become Trevor Wallace, and come back and give them a couple sold out weekends. So they are rooting for you, but for purely capitalistic reasons. They don't really care about your late night set or helping you produce your special at an affordable rate. They want you to think about how they booked you when you just started out, so when you break out you'll come back and they can claim they made you famous. But somewhere in between they kind of forgot to maintain the relationship properly. If you only knew how many of the top comics in the country right now started at the Los Angeles based B and C Clubs, asked for spots, were treated like everyone else, and eventually told those clubs to eat dirt. No one wants to feel used and disrespected, but understand, these bookers don't really know talent the way A Clubs do. Mitzi Shore and Bud Friedman saw potential and helped those comics get TV spots and then those comics helped them in return. These B and C Clubs aren't into fostering comics and building them. Just like they wanted you to bring 5 friends when starting out, they want to you bring your 500 fans down the road. They want all the benefit and none of the journey, like a college that doesn't get you a job upon graduation but wants you to donate money once you're a doctor. Men Ask For More Than Women Do Here's the basic difference between male and female comics when it comes to bookings. Men ask for more spots than woman do. So male comics deal with "active rejection" and women deal with "passive rejection." Active rejection is when you ask for a spot and hear nothing or a "no." Passive rejection is when you do nothing but see others succeed, so you take it personal. At the headliner level, there are just more men than women. We know that. At the showcase levels below, the playing field can be a bit more even. But when I attended auditions at Flappers, I can tell you there are just more men asking for spots. I could go into the nature v. nurture theories about how men see bookings as more competitive game with a clear finish line and women see it as the responsibility of the booker to ask her when she's free, as a type of comedy courtship, but I digress. Just keep in mind that men live in a constant state of active rejection. Hearing a "no" is regular life for them. Women have not been trained by society (through an awful double standard) to ask for what they want. Go watch Season 3 of Hacks to see that validated. If you aren't asking B and C Clubs for spots, you're just not going to get them. But, ladies, if you ask, I know for a fact smaller clubs want to support women. Especially in the beginning of their careers. There are clearly more problematic issues at the headlining levels, and the A Clubs in Los Angeles have been called out for lack of diversity. But I still stand by my above statement, that if you are a woman (biological or trans) you will get more spots if you put yourself in front of bookers at auditions and just tell them you want to host. Are there other alternative venue shows with male dominant lineups? Yes. Is there sexism and bro-culture? Of course. But I promise you. If you have a little bit of talent, show up to the auditions on time, and just ask, you'll get more spots. But you have to ask. That's the catch. It's a Business - Especially When Rent is Due Before you email me with all your hot takes on how the club did X, Y, or Z to you and your buddies, and I know they did, just remember that they're running a business, not a charity or after-school program. They owe you nothing but the deals you make with them. You offer to work for free, they aren't going to offer to pay you until you ask. Most A Clubs own the land they're using, whereas the B and C Clubs in shopping malls are paying ever increasing rent. They have to pay a small army of employees and cover all the other expenses like leaky pipes and broken toilets. A Clubs book 50-60 comics a year, and B and C Clubs books hundreds in showcases, bringers, and headliner sets with numerous guest drop-ins. They are overwhelmed and underqualified to run the well-oiled machine you hope they'll be. Final Thoughts Most comics quit because they feel like they're being used or forgotten by smaller clubs. After "bringing" for a year or so, they thought they built a relationship, only to realize they hadn't. It's depressing. I've been there. But before you throw the baby out of comedy bathwater, ask yourself if what you were expecting is what was promised. Sure, "the right thing" to do would be to remember you and pay you and ask what your needs are, but you're asking a group of people who can barely survive week to week to care about you. Anyone who's ever been in a relationship with a broke person knows, they aren't thinking about your birthday or Christmas when they can't afford their own rent. I'm not saying you can't feel used and cheated, but what I am saying is consider the source. It's not fair to yell at a turnip for not being an orange. And when there's little to no juice in them, don't waste your time trying to squeeze out of them what you thought they owed you which isn't there at all.
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When I was starting out in comedy, the general agreement upon getting booked was that I needed to support the show by bringing people. Not every show required it. It was just highly suggested. I stayed away from hard bringers a decade ago, and I still do. Back then, a lot of my shows were "free" with a two item minimum to help the venue recoup costs. I don't have to worry about bringer shows or trying to convince people to come to free shows anymore, as 90% of my gigs are paid now, but starting out I really wanted to show I could help the show beyond my comedy skills. So I would bring friends to showcases, hosting shows, and even bar and restaurant gigs. Some shows were much better than others, but people were generally supportive. After a year of doing shows, I decided to start running my own and get a cut of the action. I figured, I was bringing people but not seeing a dime (outside of a few hosting gigs) and it was time to make the leap into creating my own opportunities.
I Couldn't Sell a Ticket A Year Into Comedy When I made the jump into better shows and self-produced shows, I found that because I was doing so many free shows, I ended up hurting my future self because people just assumed my shows would always be free or super cheap. Back in the day Flappers had a 5 For $25 Ticket deal where I would buy the tickets up front and my friends would pay me at the door. It was a pretty predatory practice looking back, as there was no guarantee my guests would show or pay me before leaving the venue. Keep in mind, Venmo wasn't a thing then. Today would have been easier. But I'd buy sometimes up to 50 tickets ($250 worth) and then hope I'd get the money back. What did Flapper's care if they showed? They got their money. Usually 45-50 people came and I would maybe lose $20 at most. But I would buy tickets and then sell them to my friends and decided it was time to make some money off my promoting. Back then (2015-16) I would have to charge for student showcases I was in, but the Friday or Saturday YooHoo room shows were usually comp links. This became confusing for my friends as to why some shows cost more than others. I just told them the student showcases were a separate thing. Eventually, they stopped going to student showcases, as my weekend shows were free. By then I had moved into multiple venues. I was regularly playing the Ventura Harbor, Springbok, Comedy Palace, Ice House, and doing road work. People could see me all over the state and south west. But they knew if I did a free show at Flappers on Friday or Saturday, they could just wait. Great for the club. Bad for me trying to expand my fan base geographically. The irony of this was that my other shows had better lineups. My YooHoo room shows were mostly "amateur nights" (as a buddy called them) but they were free. Soon, people were tired of only enjoying me and the one or two veteran comics and hating the other less polished acts. One time I rented the Main Room at Flappers and sold $10 tickets. I got roughly 25 tickets sold and about 100 people in comped. They said they weren't going to pay for a show they saw for free within the last year. Keep in mind, my other booked comics had the same issue. Their friends weren't paying either, even if it was a Sunday night in the main room. The show was a success from an attendance standpoint, and everyone had a good set. I tried again to sell tickets three months later for my show at Flappers; I even didn't perform in comped shows on the weekends to try to create a desire to see me. I got about 75 people out next time, with even less ticket "sales" because the comics I booked still said their friends wouldn't pay but would come if comped. That was my last show there as a producer. It never occurred to me that by getting people to come for free those first 2-3 years would bite me in the butt when I tried to sell my own tickets. By 2018 I had ruined all my good will because I was giving away free comedy, and on top of that, giving away comedy that was turning off friends from wanting to see me in better shows down the road. People weren't going to pay for a show, thinking that they'd get the same poor quality show. It was a Catch-22 and one that hurt me for a good year or so in trying to build a career. Promote the Shows With Ticket Sales By Encouraging Them to Buy This is why it's always the best practice to try to PROMOTE shows with actual ticket sales, even if the venue can't pay you. Not because it helps them, but because it helps you down the road. When you have free bar shows or free restaurant shows out of town, I would encourage you to tell local friends, but don't blast it unless you're getting paid or doing a lot of time. Over the years you'll meet strangers and if you're giving them free tickets to see you (or worse, paying for their seats) you are training them to believe you don't have a monetary value. Eventually, you want fans, and if every show you offer is free, they will only see you as an amateur with no professional power. Comedy Clubs With Comps Are Using You To Sell Food The reason comedy clubs give newbies comp links is because they need butts in seats to sell food. Clubs that comp are just glorified restaurants. They have made it obvious to their audiences they are about the food and not the art. The occasional comped show is fine. 2 for 1 deals are fine. Raffle winning is fine. But when the basic model of a club is to offer "free" entertainment with overpriced food, you are setting up your friends to feel cheated over time. And this logic of comping doesn't apply in other "theater" based modes of commerce. Imagine if a few days before a big movie came out the studio just offered free tickets to see it, so the movie theater could sell more concessions? It's the same logic. The movie fails but the popcorn boxes and soda cups are poppin'! At the end of the day, studios put out a product, and if it doesn't sell, they rethink what they're doing. Even a $5 ticket price guarantees a better audience than people who sacrificed nothing. Prices should be fair to the quality of the show, so obviously a $20-$30 ticket for a bunch of amateurs is not a good investment of your friend's time. But if the tickets are free, they'll now associate you with a show not worth paying for. Even if you are on it and kill it, that's only 5-10 minutes your guests will enjoy. There are always exceptions. The bar and restaurant shows that are trying to bring in a crowd, with open seating and mixed crowds can be grueling, but play as challenges to win over the crowd in the journey. A show where the food was the admission to begin with is way more ethical than a show pretending they're comping your friends, when they comp people regardless, just to sell food. As you progress further in your career, I would advise you only send your friends the ticket link with the lowest price that's not zero. They'll be more committed to come and see you as a valuable comic who demands value. You know, like a professional comic. Moving Forward in a Showcase Town This of course begs the question, what happens when you do a 5 minute show with a code or link that encourages free tickets. I would discourage you from giving the free link. If that means less people come, then you maintain your value as a ticket seller down the road. But once you give away the cow, the milk goes with it. This might be my hottest take yet, but you aren't going to know your value until you have a ticket price attached to you. Free Shows Killed the Movies with Movie Pass I recently watched the new HBO Max documentary about Movie Pass (my review of Movie Pass, Movie Crash is in the Letterbxd section at the bottom). That app, for $10 a month, let people see as many movies as they wanted a month. Thus, devaluing films and ticket prices. Eventually, they went belly up. But people were so used to seeing "free" movies that when they had to buy tickets again they stopped going. One of the contributing factors to poor box office now is that over 10 million people no longer see the value of movies because they were so used to paying nothing to see them. Sure, Movie Pass gave away a lot of "great deals," but the long game was beyond destructive. Final Thoughts Whether you are producing shows or trying to fill your calendar with gigs, always maintain your value. It's all you have when you take the leap into being a professional comic. I'm reminded of a great gag in the sketch show Kid's in the Hall. One of the characters said "I'm going to make a lot of money. I don't know what 100 times zero is, but I'm sure it's a lot." It's clearly a fine line of trying to get stage time and not selling your soul or bankrupting your friends. But I promise you, it would be better to maintain a value as you try to move up the ranks. I've played 200 seat rooms where it was "papered" and 200 seat rooms where everyone spent $10-$25 a seat. Guess which one had a better vibe? Yeah, the people who paid. We all want stage time. But we shouldn't give our show away for free. It's not good for comedy, the show, or the future you wanting to make money off this down the road. It’s 1994 and I’m a precocious little seventh grade filmgoer with a real obsession with movies. It started in 1993 when I was in 6th grade and it’s now reached the point I’m watching Siskel & Ebert every Sunday like it’s late night church service. All I want to do is watch every movie I can, and the movie I’m obsessed with is Leon The Professional, a French American thriller by Luke Besson staring Jean Reno as Leon the hitman who takes in a 12 year old girl played by Natalie Portman after a ruthless monster played by Gary Oldman tries to kill her after wiping out her family. All of this appealed to me. The Lion King felt tame in comparison. The Professional was not a huge hit in 1994. It made $20 million in the USA and about $25 million abroad. But it made stars of Reno and Portman and lead to them getting big paychecks in huge franchises like Star Wars and Mission: Impossible.
Not because they were big movie stars, but because they were in the movies and showed off their talent. And they showed off their abilities in a film where Gary Oldman was playing his version of The Joker, unhinged and foaming at the mouth. Today though, this tiny masterpiece wouldn’t be in theaters, it would be streaming. It wouldn’t jump start two of the longest running careers in Hollywood, but instead be buried in a sea of films with no trailers or marketing campaigns. But ask any film lover about this film or many others from the independent era 30 years ago (Pulp Fiction, Clerks, Before Sunrise, etc.) and they can tell you about these tiny gems even if they weren’t the biggest hits. And why? Because they were in the movies. In a theater. I’m thinking about this hit man movie because another charming film called Hit Man - with a similar main character is going straight to Netflix on June 7th - and what could have been a marginal success at least will not become a film for the fans or connoisseurs of cinema because we didn’t all see it at the same time. Say what you want about streaming, theatrical, and the hybrid model, but films that hit 1,000+ theaters last longer in the zeitgeist than the ones who come and vanish like a fart in the streaming wind. Movies aren’t doing well this year at the box office, and one reason is that the smaller films aren’t there to pick up the movie goers the tent poles won’t catch. Hit Man wasn’t going to make $100 million, but it might have made $50 million, and on it smaller budget, Richard Linklater’s rom-com crime caper with an all-star cast including Glenn Powell would be a topic of conservation. Even if it flopped. See, films have three phases they go through to become known entities. And unless they go through all three, they’ll be forgotten. Like Roma, Marriage Story, and Flaming Hot. All Oscar nominated films; all forgotten a week after released on streaming. The Three Phases of a Film Phase 1 - The Marketing A movie’s life begins in the pre-release stage. The trailers, the Deadline and Hollywood Reporter announcements, the press junkets. Here is the stage we start talking about it. But straight to streamers don’t play trailers, and because many are made quietly or bought after they’re filmed, we hear little about them. Even though Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga bombed at the box office, everyone “knows” it’s out there. Phase 2 - The Release The moment of truth arrives Friday night with early box office reporting. From there the film is either a success or not. Maybe word of mouth can save it. Maybe it can destroy it. But it’s out there. A film like Pixar’s Elemental opened to small numbers and eventually grossed $400+ million, whereas The Marvels was DOA upon arrival and dropped almost 80% by week 2. But you’ve heard of all of them. Meanwhile, Netflix’s original and wonderful animated film Orion and The Dark came and went without even a whimper (holding a 91% Rotten Tomatoes score) and I still haven’t met anyone who watched Red Notice on Netflix, though the streaming minutes claim otherwise. Phase 3 - Life After Box Office Some films didn’t do well in theaters but eventually found an audience on TBS, TNT, and DVD. Films like The Shawshank Redemption, The Dark Crystal, and even It’s a Wonderful Life all found second lives on video. But people knew they were out there, and it just took a while for them to catch up. Linklater’s Hit Man on the other hand is going straight to Phase 3, and that means it’s basically straight to DVD. With the exception of maybe Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman, I don’t know if a direct to streaming film has a sort of cultural relevance. The Great Abyss of Cinema As people question why Fall Guy, Ghostbusters: Afterlife, and Furiosa bombed with big name actors and solid marketing, one reason is because little films aren’t there to wet the theater going appetite like they did in the 1990’s. A great independent film back then got people to want to go back to theaters, so they would go see films like Con Air, Big Daddy, and other marginal $100+ million hits. Today, those films wouldn’t make a dime. In fact, think about Adam Sandler’s filmography. We all remember Little Nicky, his most infamous flop but do any of his fans remember any straight to Netflix films? Sandy Wexler? Wexler? Wexler? Every Hit Man that went straight to streaming caused people to stay home for the current flops that should have made more based on reviews, stars, and other usual signs of success. Filmgoing isn’t a vacuum, it’s a community event running all year. Today’s hits are going to help Christmas releases, because people will have seen their trailers and walked past their pop up posters at AMC. Now they’re going to enter the great abyss of cinema of that opening weekend doesn’t hit hard. In 1993 Grumpy Old Men opened to $3 million. It made almost $100 million off word of mouth. It inspired two sequels and revitalized Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon’s career. Today, it would have been put on streaming. Or maybe be a TV show. Hit Man, even by making $40 million, would be helping the Fall releases with similar Oscar caliber performances and writing. A Hit Job Netflix has clearly provided an avenue for filmmakers and TV creators, but it’s also purposely devouring films to hurt the cinema. They can survive if audiences go to the occasional Barbie or MCU blockbuster. But they’ll lose money if people go out instead of staying in, and sucking up utility films that enrich the whole year of film, they might look like they’re platforming various directors and stars, but in reality they put a hit job on the multiplex. When I was in 10th Grade I took the city bus home every day after school. I had been taking the city bus home since 7th Grade (1993), and I wouldn't get a car until April of my 11th grade year. By 10th grade, going home from Simi Valley High School, I had developed a pretty basic routine. I would get off the bus and walk about a half a mile through the outdoor Sycamore Plaza on Cochran St. listening to my walk-man (Hootie and the Blowfish or Creedence Clearwater Revival around then) and maybe get an iced blended flavored coffee at Dr. Conkey's Candy and Coffee Shoppe. I would walk down the busiest street where there were no stray dogs, and within an hour I was usually home, ready to do homework or chores. It was a simpler time. Then it all changed on one fateful day in May of 1997 when I walked past Mann Movie Theaters (for the millionth time) and saw the marquee playing the day's films.
Normally, I would take note and plan my movie going for the weekend. But I realized there was a 3:30PM screening of Volcano with Tommy Lee Jones starting in a few minutes. And I realized I had $5 and the free time to see it. I remember asking the ticket taker employee if I was "allowed" to buy tickets. He said, "It's PG-13, I'm sure you can handle it." So I bought a ticket and went and watched on of the great mediocre films of the decade. Thus beginning a new tradition of seeing films during the "garbage time" of the day, and creating what would become a borderline addiction, turning me into the film connoisseur I am today. You see, I never thought I could see movies except on the weekends. Remember, in the 1990's there were no Thursday preview nights, with a rare midnight screening for exceptionally big blockbusters. But what I learned on that fateful Wednesday was that I can see movies during the dead hours of TV talk shows and news programming, allowing me the ability to now see everything I desired, instead of trying to work out my weekend schedule. This applied to movie rentals as well. I was now able to watch whatever I wanted between the hours of 3PM and 6PM, and I didn't have to miss dinner or primetime TV. It was literally life altering without altering my life literally. The reason I write that little story is because I want you to find the 3PM Volcano in your life. Where's the "garbage time" in your life where you can write a little, perform a little, or network a little? I know we are all busy, but there are times in the day where you can accomplish so much in the nooks and crannies of a schedule you probably never thought about. Here are literally three "garbage times" you can use to be more productive without extending yourself any more than you already are. What is Garbage Time? "Garbage time" is a sports term when players are put into the game after the result has been determined. When a team is losing or winning by an insurmountable margin they will put in rookies or veterans to get their minutes they would not normally get when the outcome is still unknown and undetermined. In regular life, garbage time is the hours when you are not needed by a family member, boss, or when you are occupied in a way others can't really rely on you. Driving is Catch Up Time with Friends, Family, and Business My favorite time to call people is while I'm driving. The ultimate "garbage time." If you find you are losing time at home because you're catching up on the phone with family and friends, just switch that time to the car drive home or to the show. The beauty of it is you put a stop watch on the conversation and have an easy out as well once you arrive at your destination. Stop picking up the phone during productive hours, and call people back when you're driving. At this point, everyone is one their phones while commuting. Might as well use the time double productively. If you are savvy enough, you can even use driving time to listen to voice messages, catch up on podcasts, and even listen to books. I understand sometimes piece and quiet is needed too, but if you find yourself feeling pulled in too many directions, use driving time as "garbage time" to get caught up with people. Downtime at Work is Up Time For Comedy There was a time in my life I made almost 10 flyers a month for comedy shows I was on or producing. The idea of working 8-9 hours a day plus trying to develop a comedy career is sometimes too hard to manage. But if you utilize downtime at work you'll find your little tasks decreasing before you clock out. I would take a flyer template and swap out names and pictures while sipping on a cup of coffee at my desk every couple hours. It was a quick mental break without shutting down. In fact, I found I was more productive because my brain was still running. Use ten minute breaks to update your website from your phone or send a few emails or DM's to bookers. Go to the bathroom and write a few jokes or set ups. Waiting in the conference room for your boss? Now is the time to upload that Instagram Reel. Here's the thing - you shouldn't be stealing the company's pay or time, but your brain needs the mental breaks. Spending those breaks scrolling Facebook or Tik Tok isn't as productive as posting on those websites to build your brand. There are 24 hours in a day. Some are more productive than others. So turn your less productive time into your most beneficial time. Use Garbage Time to Write at Starbucks or Outside Places If you have a free afternoon, and you find yourself not able to be productive at home, then use an outside place when they're not busy to write or upload content. I've written most of my articles between 5pm and 7pm at a Starbucks when it's dead. I get a lot of work done during the two hours I would normally not be doing much at all. I've found that by being out of my house, in a distraction free environment, at a time I'd usually be low key relaxing, I turned garbage time into my time. While Starbucks and Coffee Bean are traditional getaway spots, I've also used libraries, my car, parks, and even a booth at Denny's or late night diner. I once wrote a work report at a Hooters in Burbank. Though I wouldn't recommend that to anyone now, as that was clearly not a distraction free environment. My point, is that if you get into a place where you can focus during garbage time, you'll get so much more done that week than planned. Final Thoughts There are only so many hours in a day, and if you try to break it down to 8 hours sleep, 8 hours work, and 8 hours for you, you'll miscalculate to the point of feeling depressed. In reality, work is 10-11 hours when you consider commuting, getting ready, lunch breaks, and overtime. Sleep varies. And so does relaxation time. We aren't machines. Plus you have relationships, time on stage, and running errands and shopping. Heck, if you go to Costco, there's your whole Sunday afternoon. So you need to take advantage of your "garbage time." In fact, I still see 90% of movies in the hours most don't. It's how I get to see so many, which is something I truly enjoy. But then I find other times to write, perform, and work on projects. Often people talk about multi-tasking, and there are people who can do that, but I'm talking about compartmentalizing. If you realize you have time at work to give yourself a "me break" - take it! Trust me, your boss doesn't care. They aren't even paying attention. Most bosses spend their day doing very little to begin with, and they're afraid you'll throw it back in their face you get caught. But they don't care about your future. In fact, they hope you DON'T have a future, because that might inspire you to leave. So do you job, drive with caution, stay connected with friends and family, but don't be afraid to still find time for you within the garbage time of life. In my first years of comedy I really thought I was going to remain coaching, teaching, and become a corporate and church comic. It felt very organic and possible as I was already working clean and connected to churches through my experience in Christian education, marketing, and having filmed a Dry Bar Special. But nothing in the church based comedy world manifested. I even joined a few Facebook groups to try to get gigs. Nothing came of it. In fact, I only got one church gig on my own. It was a multi-generational Chinese church, and I was asked to intertwine a sermon into the act. Which was fine, but I realized that my dream of just doing comedy in the Christian market was going to be harder than I realized.
What got me really focused on the market was one particular comic I had befriended on Facebook and Instagram. Let's just call him Christian Cross, to protect the innocent. His story is one of the saddest tales I ever saw play out through social media, a warning to young comics all over the club, church, college, and corporate scenes that you should always under promise and overdeliver. Christian Cross was not that comic. Today he's not really doing stand up. He's become a cautionary tale for those who reach for the prize too soon, only to stumble. The Set Up Like me, Christian Cross was about two or three years into stand up. A family man, he attended all the Christian Comedy Association events and was able to book well over 50 high paying church gigs requiring an hour of comedy. At first, I was a bit jealous. Then I saw his stand up clips and I became enraged. It was bad. Hacky bits filled with long stretches of silence. Terrible impressions. Bad timing. Weird setups with punchlines like "butt-head" and "poopoo face." I thought, how did he get all this work? Then I realized, he asked. As the Bible says, "ask and you shall receive." One Year Later I decided to mute the stories and posts of Christian Cross, as he was living my desired life. I toiled away at clubs and worked on my writing. I ran bar shows, country club events, and eventually started teaching classes. Things were moving at a solid pace. Then a buddy mentioned he ran into Christian Cross. I asked how he was doing. I was told he had a Comedy Special coming out. WHAT? HOW? WHY? I let my worst parts of my soul take over me. Not an attractive look, to say the least. Two Years Later My Dry Bar Special has come out by this point; before his special. I'm feeling good about my future as we are coming out of Covid-19. I'm booking shows nationwide. Things are comings together. Then my YouTube suggests Christian Cross's comedy clips. I tried to watch. It was atrocious. Bad puns. Weird church culture jokes. It was a really hard watch. I'm thinking he's making a fortune as I'm struggling but moving forward. Jealousy and envy are not healthy emotions. They can cloud your mind and create decisions that aren't based in good will or love, but out of fear. Not very "Jedi" of me, to say the least. Why did I let this one guy create so much animosity and frustration? Maybe it was because he had the "courage" to grab the comedy bull by the horns, whereas I just thought I wasn't ready to make bigger leaps and take financial risks. Yet, I didn't really know him. For all I know he was unsatisfied in his career, life, marriage, etc. I decided to see how his career was panning out by doing a little internet deep dive. But a funny thing happened when I went to look at his website. It was almost non-functional. Videos wouldn't play, and it looked abandoned. He had no bookings coming up. Like I wrote, the website was barely accessible to use. I checked Christian Cross's Facebook and Instagram. Nothing. I then realized Christian Cross was no longer was touring. In fact, I heard from others that he bombed so hard, the churches and groups that booked him, refused to bring him back. And after his special dropped, bookers took away gigs upon watching it. According to his social media accounts he moved to a smaller state and performs in afternoon county fair shows...sometimes. Never before in my life did I feel both vindicated and utterly depressed and saddened. I really don't like celebrating in the downfall of anyone. I really do want everyone to succeed, but sometimes a petty part of me rises up and reveals a hole in my character. This is such a case. Lessons Learned So here I was super jealous of his career, yet it was those very same career moves that were creating future blockages and eventual rejections. You don't really know where anyone's path will take them, and you don't really know how anyone is really progressing in this industry. Sometimes the comic passed at all the big clubs is making no money, stuck in a cycle of performing for chump change while living off the "exposure" that club gives them. Sometimes the comic with a million followers on Tik Tok isn't getting the conversion of fans from views to paid seats. And sometimes the comic opening for a few big named headliners is miserable feeling chained to their schedule and whims. I was wrong about Christian Cross. I thought he punched a one way ticket to success, and nothing could be further from the truth. Don't Feel The Need To Fly Too Close To The Sun I know we all want to make the money, get the gigs, and take on the comedy markets that we think will be the start of a great relationship. But the sad sad story of Christian Cross reminds me that you can network all you want, book everything, over promise on your abilities, and collect the checks, but if you aren't really ready, you destroy your future. You can only make a first impression once. And while no one expects you to be Robin Williams in year two, you shouldn't try to force the hand before others start giving it to you as well. If you think you are ready, and you really aren't, then what feels like a blessing becomes a curse. Too often comics want the "main stage" and think they'll rise to occasion. It's just not true. No one ever got "funnier" because more people showed up or the stage expanded. Or the headliner was famous and the crowd thinks you're their disciple. Christian Cross didn't know this. He thought he was making a good choice. Yet, he flew too close to the sun and now he's stuck playing 2pm shows in a place farther away from his dreams than he thought. Final Thoughts I don't want to punch down, but I feel like these stories need to be shared so people are reminded that they can work hard and network and get the credits, but if you aren't in a place to handle the responsibility of headlining, you won't sizzle - you'll fizzle. Comedy is a long game. There's a reason most comics say it takes at least 10 years to find your voice, and years later to feel like you really know what you're doing. Jerry Seinfeld said your years in comedy is your age in comedy. If you've been doing comedy for five years, then you're a five year old on stage. Christian Cross was 2 years old when he got the calendar filled. It's not filled anymore. Be grateful for slow starts and small beginnings. Crawl before you walk. Walk before you run. Run before you Sprint. And if you sprint fast enough, you might get so famous you'll be hated by half the country and have a Dark Side of Comedy episode dedicated to you down the road. And in all reality, isn't that the real goal? (It's not, but I love irony) |
Paul Douglas Moomjean Blog's About What's on His MindBlogging allows for me to rant when there is no stage in the moment to talk about what's important and/or funny to me. Archives
July 2024
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