Yesterday I performed as a part of the Coney Island Talent
Show. Emceed by the World Famous B.O.B, the event was a spectacle. Before I
went on, there was a rainstorm. I had a headache and a final proof of a book I
had to finish marking in pen. There was no way I was going. Finally I said
screw it. I would go. When I got to the boardwalk an Asian chick was singing a
Whitney Houston song. She wasn’t bad. Then Jessica Delfino went up and rocked
it on her yuke. Looking into the crowd of diverse boardwalkers I saw adults and
children.
Were there language restrictions? I hadn’t asked.
SHIT!
SHIT!
SHIT!
While I have worked clean, it had only been for kids events.
I had done family events when I was younger, but for the most part I had grown
up in the basements and nightclubs of New York City. Corporate bookers wanted
clean, however to survive in an environment where whiskey was infused into the
floorboards you had to be dirty, edgy, and raw. It was as if you were an
outcast if you were not. Things got to the point where I had swung the pendulum
the other way. I was dirty, edgy, and raw. Sometimes I walked people. Walking
people could be fun. Yes, I lost booking but fuck it. No one wanted to get
drunk, forget, and hear family friendly jokes as they were forced to bear a
various storm of comics and a two drink minimum.
Just then I asked Jessica about the language restriction if
there was one, because much like me she is a risk taker onstage. She told me
there had been one, and the organizer had told her because she knew her act. We
both agreed while we were entertainers, we wanted to make our set appropriate
for our audience because it sucked to leave anyone feeling bad. But why had I
not asked? Why had I not known?
SHIT!
SHIT!
SHIT!
Just then I went through my rolodex in my head. I organized
my clean jokes and rewrote my set. In the tent I played the new act over and
over again. I had to rework and memorize fast before things went to complete
hell. I saw Bob Greenberg and lamented that I hadn’t known. “Watch us tank and
watch them hate me.” I bemoaned.
Bob patted me on the head and told me I could do it. He
assured me working clean would get me more bookings and now was my chance to do
something new. Still, if I had known ahead of time I would have had an awesome
clean set. Still there was no time to bitch and moan. I had to work. As the
show began, it seemed like time was endless and I would never get to go up.
Sweat dropped off my brows and I was going to screw this up. Finally I heard my
name called. Part of me was ready to die a horrible comedic death. The other half
of me was ready to rise to the challenge. I took a deep breath and walked to
the stage.
I began my set minus the dirty joke in the beginning. The
people laughed. Okay, we were doing well. Then May Wilson came out. The people
laughed again. We were doing well. We began our set and we had a heckler for a
split second but I was going to continue and just stay calm. I needed to keep
the comebacks clean for the kiddies. After seeing I wasn’t going to entertain
his stupidity, the heckler shut up. We continued and the audience laughed. We
hit joke after joke of this set, often different and more risqué, rewritten on
the spot. Gone were the references to blow jobs, drugs, and the ex-cons I used
to date. Replacing them was the laughter of people of all ages, including
children, who snapped photos of us. Finally, feeling our time was up and there
not being a light we made our exit. As usual I could have finished stronger but
I didn’t care.
I had killed it and done so without a curse word. I had
rewritten my set on the spot. They had not known I was shaking in my boots. Bob
Greenberg, my cheerleader who had given me a hell of a pep talk was by the
stage ready to congratulate me. “You worked clean and the audience laughed. You
did good.” Bob said giving me a big hug.
The rest of the show was amazing. There was the sword
juggler who terrified me yet was amazing at the same time. There was Bob
Greenberg and Joe Bevilacqua were awesome as Abbot and Costello in “Who’s on
First?” Of course, there was Dr. Lucky and her merry-go-round routine that was
clever, amazing, and sexy in that PG-13 sort of way. No one was dirty. No one
swore. Everyone of all ages could enjoy the show and they did from the magic to
the strong man to the contortionist.
They announced the winners and I didn’t qualify for a prize.
I never win talent shows. The sword juggler won first, Bob and Joe second (and
they were amazing, they deserved it) and Dr. Lucky third as well as for best
costume which was also deserved. More than anything, I was proud of myself for
breaking the mold. I had managed to work clean, and had not sacrificed my
identity.
I wanted to award myself, and decided once the show was over
there would be cheese fries involved. So after the photos were taken, I
indulged into some cheese fries with plenty of cheese and bacon bits. I
probably gained a few pound but it was a well-deserved treat. As I gobbled my
meal, I watched the people walk by having a good time. The sun began to set and
let out a heavenly glow.
I began to think of how much I have grown up, especially on
the stage in NYC. Performing had gotten me through some of my loneliest times
as a young woman. Standup had rescued me and kept me from leaving the city one
rainy night when I wanted to throw in the towel because I didn’t fit in
anywhere. Standup had kept me sane during a breakup with an ex who was so
damaged the only way he could communicate was by threatening. Standup was now
back in my life, and it had enabled me to do all the things I had done this
past year. Standup was now bringing me into a new era of my life, one where I wasn’t
so angry and mean.
As I tossed the empty cheesefries container into the trash
can, I also threw away an angry young woman who’s only method of communication
behind the mic was to yell. I tossed out the psychotic abusive ex and all the
losers that came after him. I tossed out the side of me, the destructive force
that only sets to ruin. I also tossed out Holden Caulfield because I had been
missing him. I decided I had done a lot this past year.
I had become a role model for young people during my time as
a talking head. I had written a book that is soon to be available to buy. I had
recorded music that charted on smaller radio. My videos were hits. This was a
new era for the Superfoxxx. Of course May Wilson can work clean. Girl wants to
make mad money so she can buy labels.
Then I saw the amount of calories in cheesefries.
SHOOT!
SHOOT!
SHOOT!
Love,
April
 |
| L to R: Joe Bevilacqua, World Famous B.O.B., Bob Greenberg, Dirty Martini, May Wilson and April Brucker |
No comments:
Post a Comment