Dance to the Music (Sly and the Family Stone)

Once when we were kids, we were driving back from a Pirates game downtown. That was the 90s and the team was decent. The song “Dance To The Music” came on the radio. My dad told us he saw Sly and The Family Stone live as they were getting to be big. He was about six feet away from them and Sly was coked out as shit. Yeah, coked out. Then again, that whole generation of musician did drugs, right? My dad mentioned Sly was just dancing and the whole place was on fire. I believe the whole band was actually related.

It was the late 60s, early 70s. Aside from the Family Stone there was The Manson Family. Yes, I am talking Sharon Tate. That whole horror movie. Every member of that family has tried to get paroled but none have succeeded. But it was a weird time, a time of change. It was Civil Rights, and there were people who opposed them. Now there are people who oppose Gay Rights. It was Vietnam. My parents both knew people who were killed. Now we have the whole debacle in The Middle East. I have a high school classmate who drove his jeep over a landmine and was mortally wounded. People opposed both wars, and the only thing that was different was there was no draft in my generation. Otherwise people would be helluva pissed.

So some things change, some things stay the same.

Over the past year there has been a lot of change in my family. Not all of it has been for the better. Both my Nunni and Pop Pop, my mom’s parents, passed away. Nunni was a trendsetter and feminist before the word even became coined. She worked as a nurse during the war, went back to school in her 60s, and traveled the world after raising six kids. My mom then discovered words on scraps of paper, and Nunni confessed she had been writing poetry. So my mother implored her to publish. Nunni did, and akin to Grandma Moses began a writing career that spanned from her 70s to her 80s. Also, she acted as the grandmother in the local Nutcracker until her last year on the planet. Age wasn’t a number.

Pop Pop was also pretty progressive before the word became colloquial. He served in the Navy during World War II, and I believe even achieved the rank of First Lieutenant. In college, he had also majored in engineering and had boxed. When my mom was a kid, he installed a chin up bar and made his kids do chin up when they entered and exited a room. This was before people knew anything about fitness and the importance it played in their children’s lives. Pop Pop also supported Civil Rights. His belief was blacks should have the same rights as whites, and someone of a different color was welcome to be his neighbor as long as they caused no trouble. Pop Pop also supported gay rights too. His belief was they were people, and if they chose to live peacefully he had no issue with what they did behind closed doors.

Both were funny, both loved to tell a good joke. Both died within months of each other after being married sixty something odd years.

There have also been some changes for the better. This past week I was away with my family at the beach. My sister Skipper brought her beau Boomer. The two met when Skipper was completing medical school, and Boomer was the brother of one of her friends. Lately things have been heating up with this relationship. When Skipper got a job in Nashville, Boomer interviewed and once he was hired moved down to be with her. I saw them together and they were attached at the hip. Like the characters in Commedia Del Arte and the Tarot archetype, their love is pure and without the wear and tear of baggage. Thus I have nicknamed them The Lovers.

The Lovers proved to be ready and able vacation companions. I have to say although I don’t always agree with his Ron Paul friendly anti-government political leanings, I do like Boomer. He was telling me he met my sister and she kept blowing him off. Boomer’s sister Lena had organized these dinner parties in order to get Skipper to come and socialize with him. Out of the three, Skipper showed up once. Boomer was discouraged until his mother told him she and his dad had been engaged twice, and his dad didn’t give up. Well neither did Boomer. Eventually Skipper gave in.

Well the plot thickens. Boomer had hinted that he wanted to propose to Skipper, and they had been looking at rings. Skipper had received a bridal magazine in the Easter Basket my mother sent her. Boomer mentioned he was going to ask my dad for my sister’s hand in marriage. I told him I didn’t know people did that. He mentioned his brother in law Jimmy had spoken to his father. Needless to say, when it was Boomer and my dad by the pool, they had the talk. Boomer went for it. He told my dad things had been getting kind of serious. And then he asked my dad for my sister’s hand in marriage.

Well my dad’s best friends The Reveres came to vacay with us. Dr. Revere is an academic, and his wife Martha is pretty neat. Both met on Match.com. Anyway, while we were taking a pic on the beach my dad announced Boomer had asked him for Skipper’s hand in marriage. It was fun, it was joyous, it was a change for the better.

 Mother’s Day occurred during that trip and my mom, who took the passing of my grandparents quite hard, said that now there was no one to call when good news happened for any of us. I told her this simply wasn’t true. Our family structure was not diminishing but rather changing. Now when Skipper was called to get familial news, good or bad, Boomer would be attached to that announcement. There would still be people to get the good news, it is just that those people had changed. The network was evolving, not disappearing. Boomer would be a good brother-in-law and son-in-law. He understands family, and would have an idea on how to play his role. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was a good thing. It’s just that it was different.

There has been some change in my work life as well. I got passed over for a huge opportunity this winter, and was rejected completely for a job involving my writing. Both killed my self-worth. Additionally, I am still waiting to hear on another thing and Lord only knows what is going on there. The winter involved a lot of darkness. The things that were going on were very bad on one end, and very good on another. There was a lot of uncertainty. Uncertainty is worse than death in some ways. With death you know what happens, uncertainty, not so much. The killer was, I came close to both. When I say close, I was touching the top of the mountain and fell.

However, there have also been some opportunities revealing themselves that have been beyond words. I have started a new job for Ranter, a phone app where I work as a talking head. It is for sports nuts and sports fans everywhere. I don’t know what will happen or where that door will lead, but I have wanted to do something with sports broadcasting forever. This is a door I have wanted since I was a teenager, and now it has appeared. Also, I am doing a theatre show at Soluna Theatre May 30-31. I have wanted to do theatres forever too. Now it is happening. Additionally, I am also taking a graduate level class with a former editor of a big publishing house in regards to my writing. And a few weeks ago, I taped a DVD, a dream I have had for years. So some of the change is good.

On the other hand, the change is scary. As a woman working in sports broadcasting, I am well aware of the sexism I will face from my male counterparts. While that word is getting better, it still has a long way to go. The theatre show is a go, but anything could happen and I am well aware. Also, there is the fear that now that I am a headliner, will I be able to cut the mustard? And I know I can write but I have never been a Grammar Nazi or school person, will I be able to hack it? As for my DVD, how to get it sold and how to market? Also, will I be able to watch myself, since I do talk like a red neck chipmunk on crystal meth. I love my puppet children but damn, they creep me out too.

Then I remember another archetype in Tarot, and that is the Moon. The night Boomer asked for Skipper’s hand in marriage there was a big, brilliant full moon. We had gotten back from dinner, and we were on the patio. Boomer mentioned walking to the water, and Skipper mentioned she feared snakes. After some chiding, Boomer got her to go. The three of us journeyed to the beach. The bright lines from the moon illuminated as we stood at the ocean’s edge, the cool water kissing our feet.

At that moment, it occurred to me that the future was not just unknown to me, but to everyone. Yes, my path currently is single career woman who eats, sleeps, and drinks her work. I don’t know what is next, but the only thing I can do is trust that I am doing what I have been called to do, and to know I have not been taken this far in order to be dropped. Additionally, Skipper and Boomer don’t know their future. Yes, the Lovers are young and optimistic, but their journey will have bumpy roads. No one’s path is smooth all the time. However, they trust that they have been brought together, and are walking into the future as a unit. So yes, in Tarot The Moon is the card of uncertainty, but however, it is also the card of faith and knowing the choice is right.

Today was street fair day and I heard the song “Dance to the Music.” I ended up dancing with a woman missing some teeth in the front. But as we danced, it occurred to me that while change could be scary, life wasn’t that serious. Jobs come and go. Careers ebb and flow. Lovers disappoint, disappear, and are replaced with better lovers if the one you have doesn’t work out. The only thing you can do is have gratitude for what is good because that too shall pass, and know that anything that is bad shall pass as well. In the end you only have yourself, and you have to be able to handle a curve ball or home run and anything in between.

“I Say ‘Ride Sally, Ride.”

Love 

April

www.aprilbrucker.com

Come see me at the Soluna Theatre, May 30-31 Happague, Long Island

Buy my book I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

Check out my DVD Broke and Semi-Famous coming soon

Fear and Loathing

Comedians are like bitchy scorpions. There are only so many spots at any club, only so many people who can be on any show, etc. It's like we all can't have nice things. This is most apparent on car trips. It starts by bringing up one comic and then it is a trash fest. Some of it is out of jealousy that they got the spot we wanted. Some of it is out of fear that we might never get what we want. Some of it is out of insecurity because we must trash people we feel are lesser. Deep down, it is more fear. More fear that we will be forever trapped doing shit open mics, shit bar gigs, shit check spots, and at the end of the day we will languish in obscurity only to die unknown.

Early in my comedy career I saw people floating around who had been at it for years. One woman had been doing open mics for fifteen years and still sucked. I deeply hoped that wasn't going to be me. However, I was afraid it was going to be. I saw others seemingly never move from the bringer system, damned forever to be comedy cattle running and feeding off of dream grass only never to get the nutrients. At other venues I saw people bark for what seemed to be forever never to move up. And then I saw some people do the same terrible set for years with the same lackluster jokes. Running the open mic marathon it seemed as though the lanes were clogged like a bad LA traffic jam and I would never get the red light. As for the road, I did that as a feature. I opened up for guys who were either really funny and would never have their talent recognized, or incredible hacks that killed for audiences that didnt know better. For a while it felt like there was no way to make it.

As a comedian I never believe my fans or the audiences that love me. In the initial early stages of my career, I very well knew I wasn't very good. When I would have a bad set, it followed me for sometime in my mind. When I had a good set, I bragged about it. Some of it was that I was proud of my work. Most of it was because I thought it would never happen to begin with therefore feared it would never happen again. I was accused of having no humility. It was true. I was deeply insecure and not the biggest April fan. But humility is not thinking less of onesself but thinking of onesself less. I was thinking of April all the live long day.

Time went on and I accomplished some things. It wasn't so much talent but hard work. I will admit, there is always someone funnier, prettier, and a better writer than I could be at any given moment. However, none have pounded the pavement like I have. Even my enemies have to high five me for my work ethic. In order to accomplish that fear and loathing, I became even more bragadocious. I don't think it was an accident that I found myself more depressed than ever deep down. Yes I was releasing a book but why did I secretly feel like dog shit run over by a mac truck? Answer, I was chasing the wrong solution. I thought ranting about being a woman in comedy was the solution. If I were a man I wouldn't have to fight so hard. I had fans writing me letters. Fuck open mics. Let me tell you how successful I am. Want to read a copy of my book?........

This past winter, I found myself unsure of how to step up my comedy. How to grow. The answer was to drop the fear and loathing and to do the work. This past week I did a show where the audience was slower to warm up to a ventriloquist act. However they got into me and I ultimately ended up doing well. After I stepped offstage I didn't hear the congratulations from the audience or felt the love I received from my fellow comedians. Instead I could only focus on the fact they didn't dig me at the beginning of my set. I was talking to a fellow comedian about this and how I always focused on the weak part. The audience members who didn't like me. My comedian friend concurred that she did that too. We all did.

On my walk home I worried that I was never going to go where I wanted to go. I also worried that I was going to settle again. Then I realized no. That wasn't going to happen. The mistake I made was falling victim to the fear and loathing. My ego seduced me into taking April the Reality TV Queen and April the Author into comedy clubs. That person doesn't always belong. Instead, when I go to a club I am just another name on the lineup. My job isn't to primp my feathers and remind people of who I think I am. It's to make the audience laugh. Also, there is something to be learned from every comedian on the lineup whether they are a household name or whether they are unknown. When that is my attitude there is always something gained.

These days when I step onstage I take the twenty year old kid who was awkward and had a weird looking, antiquated puppet. She wasn't afraid to fail, and was humble enough to do the work. She took tanking hard only to keep doing more of it until she got good. The beautiful thing was she wasn't so egotistical she wouldn't take a suggestion. As a result, the Comedy God's smiled upon her again and again. She was a good kid, sometimes taking things too hard but always chasing the perfect set. She always knew she could do better and the secret was more stage time. These days I bring her to the clubs. Not April the Reality TV star or April the Author. Those two idiots wouldn't have been possible without that weird, determined, and tough kid blindly chasing a dream.

Good things have always happened when she has been around. Sure she succumbs to the fear and loathing, but only to get up and try it again.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com

Fear n Faith

Lately I have been doing a lot of what they call showing up for my creativity. I have been sending book pitches and proposals for book talks. Yes, some people like my writing style. I am upfront and some even say funny. Actually a lot of people say funny. Other people don't like me. I am not always politically correct and not always what they call "nice." I find nice and mean stupid people words. Oh something is nice. Elaborate please. Oh well it is nice. Or you are so mean. How am I mean? You are just mean.

Anytime I have been called mean it is always by a stupid person on youtube. I cannot explain it. Oye vey.

There is so much fear that nothing will pan out. I am at a weird place on the ladder. While I am not a household name, fans have recognized me on the street. On top of that I have been on TV several times. People at shows have recognized me. My book has been reviewed by Mensa and was featured on Britney Spears's website. And yes, I even have some fancy friends. People also brag about knowing me. I have been gossipped about online. I have people so jealous that they want to shake the ladder I am steadily climbing. Oh and I have also written for some highly trafficked news sources. In addition, my videos receive a lot of views.

On the other hand, while I have been on TV plenty it is still not enough to pay the bills on it's own so I am working a day job. I am lucky to like my day job. Actually I have been delivering to some very nice people lately. And while I am "too famous" for some things, I am not famous enough for others. I can still get bumped at clubs by washed up male comedians who rest on their laurels believing they are still important enough to bully junior producers. Oh and then there are the users who will cut me from a show because of the content of my act but still use me on the poster to promote because of my fame. Lets see, I am not important enough to be included in some collections with my work but they have seen me on TV. Oh yeah, and because I am part of a smaller house I have to push my book on my own.

Lately I have been working A LOT which is good and also performing a lot. While I detest mics I have learned no one cares who I think I am. It is more the chip on my shoulder than anything. I am there to work, not to gossip about a bunch of no ones who believe that they are someone. I am there to get better, not to get into trouble. I am there to become a better comedian, not to be the great I am. And yes, I have done great things, past tense. We cannot have yesterday's funny do the work of the funny today.

It is a tenuous place on the ladder as I said.

This morning I delivered a telegram to a very nice family in Brooklyn. The guy was eighty years old and he was VERY COOL. Kind of reminded me of my grandfather. Sure it was a pain in the ass getting out of bed and kind of far in Brooklyn, Dyker Heights, but the trip was worth it. These people were WONDERFUL.

I like that I have a job that enables me to make people laugh. The world is such a messed up place where people are so angry all the damn time. I like making sunshine and rainbows for as corny as that sounds.

There are a lot of things coming up. I have two stores interested in carrying my book. In addition I am also starting the musical and one woman version of my musical. While we are there I also am releasing an audiobook and have a book signing at Brown. Things are good. Oh and a pilot I am working on has been passed to phase two.

As I walked to the train today I saw the Cherry Blossoms on the trees and the pieces of spring begin to tangle with the air. I know in my heart for as much as I fear what is next-me potentially not getting what I want-I know I have to have faith.

I know that on my journey as an artist, as a person, and as an activist, I have not been carried this car in order to be dropped.

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Greenpeace

Fear 'n' Faith

This past week and a half has been a doozy. I have been sick as a freaking dog. To top it off I gave up being a part of something that has literally helped define me for the last several months. Then there is all this uncertainty about what is next for me. While it looks like we might be inking on something that might be good, it is pre-approved. While I am supposed to be publishing a book, we are a tad behind schedule. And things are coming together and falling apart as far as the music video goes. That’s when the fear creeps in.

The crazy thing about fear is that it dictates so many of the bad things in the world. Most prejudice stems from fear as a matter of fact. Whenever I hear a hateful remark against any group it turns out either the person had a bad experience with just one or they have never met any of those whom they openly slander. People drink, do drugs, eat too much or too little, or have wreckless sex because they want to escape the fear of not being good enough. Or they enter a relationship with someone who is wrong for them because they are afraid of being alone. Sure, sometimes fear is healthy. Like looking both ways so you don’t get hit by a mac truck. But it’s also very bad.

During these fear periods I get scared that I will never work again. Nevermind I am as sick as a dog. I also get scared of the fact that I am getting older. Nevermind my late teens and early twenties were a shit show of insecurities stemming from an imaginary battle with my weight which was really a real battle with myself. While in reality I don’t want that time in my life back again, I begin to get afraid that I will go to that island with six cats and gain three hundred pounds as I snack on my container of Lard ‘n’ Chocolate Delight. I also get afraid that I won’t get what I want. I have been working hard for sometime. Yes, despite the exposure and growing fan base I work the odd jobs. I ask myself what if I never have the career I want and am stuck as a whining actor and comic in the back of the clubs whining about how the ship sailed and marooned me? Worse yet, there is this gaping part of me that feels as if everyone is doing better.

When that gaping part of me sets in, it’s usually when I am sick and have nothing to do. Like the rest of the world, my head becomes a dangerous neighborhood. I don’t need to walk through a gang infested territory naked, I just spend an hour in my own mind. I went on facebook to see an old boyfriend of mine got fat. While he got fat and has a fat new lover girl, he has a new girl and here I am stuck, single, and looking like I could scare people in public. Then of course I go to a page of a girl who is a friend of mine and she is doing marvelously with her career and rest of her life. I begin to get jealous and wish evil things on her. Then I see another girl I know and like most of the time doing well and I just am scowling like Satan’s daughter.

Then I remember the first girl walking down the street, seeing me, giving me a big hug and telling me how great I looked. She also told me how she and her friends saw me on TV and how she was so proud of me for doing so well for myself. The second girl has always been my friend and on several occasions stood up for me when people were ripping me down online. When these realizations come to me I feel like an asshole. It’s like the devil himself has entered my body. I not only want what they have but want to see them fail, when these women are my damn friends. That’s when I start crying. It’s the cough medicine and overdose on Lifetime Movies making me go apeshit.

The crazy thing is, when I find that I am happy for people I usually get what I want. I am not some greedy witch angling like a hag in a cave for some ruby slippers she will never get. I guess it’s the law of returns. The universe is kinder. Plus I have been on both VH1.com and Gawker. I know all about what it is like to have people want to knock you down. I had people claim to know me from certain parts of my life that I never met. And just to be heard they made stuff up about me. It was their way to say “Fuck you, you’re on your way up and I don’t want to be left out of the party.” That being said I feel asinine doing it to anyone else.

Then I think of all the things going for me. I have appeared on NBC, ABC, CBS, E!, TLC, Bravo, The Travel Channel, New York 1, Fox 5, PAX, PIX, and Koldcast. Although my bank account doesn’t reflect it I have been around. I have fans all over the world. I have people who have flown to NYC and brought me and my puppets presents because we have changed their lives. I have worked with celebrities. I have done photo spreads in British magazines. I have had two comedians I look up to say wonderful things about me, and both are legends. One I got to work with, the other defended me live on a radio show where I was being ripped to shreds. My songs have gotten radio airplay. I am close. Things aren’t exactly terrible.

On my way to one of my deliveries today I walked past a dress store where all the clothes were just exquisite. I told myself that I would never look good in one of those. I began to just want to fade away into the sidewalk of NYC. There was that voice again from my late teens and early twenties telling me how ugly and stupid I was. That voice comes out usually when I see beautiful dresses and remember who I wasn’t in high school. I was weird and popular because I did stuff, not because I was pretty. I felt this vulnerability that an ugly duckling feels as they become the wallflower at the school dance and creep out back to cry.

That’s when I heard the voice of Betsy Parrish, a teacher of mine my first year of college. I was basically being asked to leave my acting studio because of a conflict I had with another teacher. Betsy was giving me some sort of pep talk and I started crying. I remember she told me I was enough constantly and I didn’t believe her. Then I heard her say in the back of my mind, “This is what we need to be seeing onstage. You just remember-I believe in you-now go!” Suddenly the vulnerability didn’t seem so horrid. It actually made me feel human in a bizarre sense. But damnit, after all these years it still sucked.

It was weird I thought of Betsy Parrish, the Broadway veteran because earlier that day I had thought I had seen her. I hadn’t but perhaps I crossed her mind. The crazy thing is, I heard a former movement teacher at that particular place in question is a fan of mine. I know the woman wasn’t a fan of mine when she had me as a student. But apparently when some students asked her about me she said she loved my work. I just think it’s crazy. I just want to message her and remind her she was the one who told me perhaps I didn’t belong at said studio.

I ended up delivering the telegram and I think the crazy woman who hired me thought I was a stripper. They had no idea of what they wanted me to do. I was given one set of orders and then they were to bring out a cake. Instead they brought out the cake and had me do my thing. I did my thing, I tried. But I think they thought I was going to be more a stripper. The crazy woman shooshed me with her hand and the guys told me I did a good job. Overall they were very weird people. I was honest and told my boss. I am worried they will rip me up online but I don’t think they know how to read. One girl did actually, but it wasn’t about what I did despite the review. It was in retaliation because she recognized me from a TV appearance. People are nuts when you are visible. They either want to be your friend/fan or they want to fight with you to say they did. I know this nutty bitch did because I heard her tell her friends. Todays girl, I would be worried except I don’t think she knows how to read. I think she was more angry at her coworkers for not being clear about what they ordered and for not doing things the way she wanted.

While that sucked I told my boss who was like, whatever. I went to my next delivery which actually made up for the suckiness of the last one. On this particular delivery I delivered to a nice set of people having fun after work. As a matter of fact they laughed, took photos and even had me pose with the guy in handcuffs. To top it off, I got a very sweet tip. Yes, sweeter than I have gotten in sometime. After leaving that particular assignment it not only made up for the suckiness of the last delivery but for being sick. And most importantly, it made me realize I love my job and I love what I do.

It also made me realize that good things are ahead for me. And the bad things havent been bad but rather gifts. My abusive ex fiancé made me find my voice, brought me back to my puppets and ultimately got me off the self-destructive track I was going. Being broke a few years ago got me to put my nose to the grindstone and to be better at my craft. My public debacles have made my sense of humor stronger and let me know that no one could take me down. In essence, everything happens for a reason.

So while I don’t know what is next for me I know I am doing the right thing with myself. Like a kid on Christmas I am shaking that present, wanting to open it. But it’s not time yet. However, when it is I know God will give me something good.

Or as they say, more to be revealed.

Love April