During my early days in comedy -- but after the point at which it was a novelty, so there were now stresses and personality conflicts and other things that got in the way of the fun -- I used to go over to a friend's place in the afternoon and we would smoke pot and watch tapes of old TV shows and weave webs of dreams. As time went by -- I'm sure the pot helped with this -- I increasingly opted to hang out at my friend's late into the night, rather than heading over to the comedy clubs were I would otherwise (maybe) perform.
I was hiding out in a place (not just physical) that felt safe, but I was pushing my real ambitions aside, decreasing the chance that I would be who I wanted to be and do what I wanted to do in the way that I wanted to be (him) and do (them).
Well, time went by and I moved into my own pursuits and eventually, as happens with people, my friend and I drifted apart -- maybe not in terms of our essential relationship, but we just didn't see each other. We were involved in different pursuits.
But lately, after -- literally -- years, I've been hanging out with my friend again, watching DVDs of old TV shows and avoiding his exhaled THC.
It's been fun.
For one thing, he feeds me. (He's a terrific cook.) For another, I get to watch great performers and analyze and theorize, which is something I like to do.
But (as I explained in I Am, They Said) I've been out of step with the New York comedy scene lately, so I decided on Friday that I would head over to a show where some comedy people would be hanging out and just hang; be me; establish myself as a nice guy in the minds of people who don't know me. First, however, I'd be heading to my friend's for some video and fine dining.
I told him I could only stay 'til about 8:30, but when the time came to leave, I wanted to stay where it was safe; I didn't want to go to a place where something was at stake.
So, I stayed with my friend and watched more TV.
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23 January, 2007 @ 18:22 GMT
http://blogs.chortle.co.uk/andrewjlederer
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