It Gets Better

A year ago I was ready to quit show business. I was uninspired and just all around burnt out. Life had been one blow after another.

For starters, a living situation I had been with for nearly ten years went up in utter smoke. I had tried so hard to hold on to that apartment and then one day it was gone. As I was leaving I remember feeling this strange mix of relief and failure. Relief that I wouldn't be sick over a living situation, but failure because despite my efforts I still lost.

Then a relationship with a mentally ill partner ended. It was also a mix of relief and failure. It was relief, because his mood swings were becoming more and more unpredictable and I was feeling more and more unsafe. It was failure because the relationship ended because of a lie he told, and therefore I wasn't good enough for the truth. It was failure because once again I lost a man.

The career had been a miasma of successes and disappointments. I lost two national campaigns for stupid reasons. I lost a nomination to a well-respected organization because of my past as a reality star. I lost a grant for a stupid reason too, paperwork.

But I became a union member. I also got press everywhere but the US for my puppets. And a short film I did puppet work for was nominated for a top award. It even looked like I was going to tour Europe and that fell through like a trap door.

Was the universe telling me to stay or go? Hell if I knew.

My new life was like a dark forest where I was alone, unsure, and struggled to find my place. Each step onstage bored the hell out of me. I had paid the ultimate price to follow my dreams. Were my dreams even worth it? It seemed if anything my dreams caused me a lot of disappointment and heartache.

Over the years, I had friends who left the business because they got sick of the bullshit. Many did it on a smaller scale. Some gave it up altogether. They got married and had kids. They told me how much more fulfilled they were. I had some success. I had been on TV. Maybe I had my fun and it was time to be a normal person.

However, you have plans and the universe laughs. This career has a funny way of picking you, and if it's meant it also has an even stranger way of not letting you go.

I was set to quit when I got invited to do a fallout date for a headliner after he had a nervous breakdown and needed to be replaced. I figured I would tank out, get paid,and this would determine whether or not I continued in comedy.

Yes I tanked. It was horrendous. Maybe it was time to quit after all. However, I met a club owner who had different ideas. Not only was he honest to the point of being brutal, but he was helpful. I left the trip not only rebounding for my next two shows (I killed it) but I left feeling like an asshole. My crime hadn't been being knocked down. It was staying down.

So I got back up, ordered a puppet stand, and started working like a real professional. I pounded stage time like I did years before I had any TV credits. I didn't care if it was an open mic or bar show, for the first time in forever I just wanted to be good. I didn't even care what the outcome was, I was just enjoying the journey and the process for the first time in my life.

My puppetry grew leaps and bounds as did my ventriloquism. So did the opportunities. I got to go to Cleveland with Donald J. Tramp and lead a protest. I also got to perform in Las Vegas. I performed a one woman show at a showcase. I covered the debate with my lil puppet president, too.

Currently some good things are in the works. This Sunday I teach my first ventriloquism class. It's at QED Astoria 3/26 from 2-4.

I am also reading Paul Winchell and can tell you that there is more I need to be doing, but again it is a journey.

I am working on a new book.

I feel hopeful about the future.

Sometimes, when life sucks you need to take a bath, get rid of the bad shit, and keep going.

Yes, it gets better. But only if you let it.

Old Movie Star Angel

I am a pale imitation

Growing up as a kid you always look for idols. Someone who is like you. Someone who you can relate to. I remember the first time I met mine. It was a Saturday night in my basement. My family was blessed and cursed without cable. The attitude of my parents was, "We are readers and thinkers." It wasn't about the world being evil, although at times it could have been and this helped shield us away from the traps kids fall into.

PBS was showing My Little Chickadee. Mae West flounced onto the screen. She had blonde hair, a massive grin, green eyes, and a smart assed drawl. I was a quiet kid. Encyclopedias were my friends. Even though she was considered "lame" by modern standards, then she broke all the rules. My dad said, "I know she looks young but she is almost fifty years old right here." My mouth dropped open. It made me like her even more. This was awesome. She was awesome. Apparently she was only five feet tall. The girls in that era, the one she started in, were bone thin flapper types. It was not the shake I was given. In a world where one in put in a box and you are or aren't, she made her own rules and said fuck it. For the first time, as I was a bookish kid who struggled with my weight and myself, I felt a ray of hope.

For as much as I tried to fight it, the stage always beckoned me. I always found the most success when I did my own thing. So did my hero, Ms. West. Even as a young, starving artist in the Big Apple, at the times I have gotten attention are for being myself. When I made my own puppet videos, wrote my own music, staged my own one woman shows, wrote my own book. Although I have yet to go to jail for my artistic expression I know I would be in good company if I did. There have been times I have been called the bad girl of ventriloquism. Why? For telling the truth. I have alienated some of the Christian Ventriloquists. Some of them have issues with the fact my puppets like to party. I think their main issue is the gay puppet. Of course the black puppet doesn't help any. But Mae West liked blacks and gays, so I say screw em.

There have been times I have been guilty of emulating my hero a little too much. In college I had an acting teacher who got upset because I could impersonate her so well. She claimed I was "losing myself as a person." In reality, I think she was always angry she didn't have a career, and was incensed when she found a student that knew themselves so well. Still, Richard Pryor tried to be Bill Cosby before growing into his own skin, and once Pryor found his own skin Cosby was happy for him. I suppose you need to start somewhere great to go somewhere great. But I knew who I was, tough, fast talking, and yes I liked bad boys. So did my hero. So what? Take us to the back and shoot us.

Several years ago I was down on my luck. I had just seen the departure of a roommate who was like my sister. I was also having a conflict of faith because I had a falling out with a friend who would not stop using drugs. A month later, he would die as a result of the disease of addiction. It was a huge storm and I was set to travel to do a gig in Queens. A tornado hit, and the J line was delayed. I somehow got there, and was the only comedian to show up. The place was called Nier's Tavern. I ended up not only performing, but getting all the money in the bucket. After I was done the host explained, "This place is legendary. It's where Mae West used to perform."

My mouth dropped open. What are the odds I would be in the spot where my hero used to do her thing? I remember getting a ride home from the son of a murdered Mexican Rodeo Star, don't ask. As I stepped over the power lines that were down and the trees that were struck, I felt alright. Yes I felt down and out. But I had just performed where my hero had more than eighty years earlier. This was not a mere coincidence. One month later my puppet children and I would appear on national television. My life would never be the same again.

I am different am like my old movie star angel in many ways. For one, we both did burlesque and vaudeville. While hers was more the real thing, I have done the neo version. We both have to create our own work in order to stand out, and have received a plethora of positive and negative attention for it. Not to mention it took her a while to see success, and it has taken me longer than the cookie cutter folks. But when we get it, we get it in bigger and better doses. We are both our own people, and no one censors us. We both aren't afraid to stand up to sexist men or jealous women. She doesn't come with puppets and I do. That's fine. I think we can both live with that.

Either way, I just got news I made my hometown paper. I am working on a one woman show version of my book and a full Broadway musical. I am producing my own content. Life is good. Maybe my boobs aren't as big and maybe I don't speak with a complete drawl, but I sound like a redneck chipmunk when I get fired up. My career is and isn't like hers. However, this morning I saw her picture front and center on my bathroom door. It was a nice reminder that while I am enough without completely copying my hero, I had a good person who gave me a good path to follow. I had a woman who let me know I could be myself, create my own work, and for the unique beings success doesn't always come easy. I had a person who let me know it was okay. I had Mae West, my old movie star angel.

"I'm no angel but I've spread my wings a bit."

Love

April

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

www.aprilbrucker.com

Nicest Book Review Ever

As an author when people read my book I get all sorts of feedback. Some like it, some have questions, some go crazy into interpretation. Someday some lesbian scholar will be analyzing me saying I chose the pseudonyms Skipper and Wendell for my siblings because Skipper was the name of the sister of Barbie Roberts, and the less desirable relative of the plastic icon and perhaps the way I saw myself. And they will say Wendell is an old name that symbolizes the male world that imprisons me.

None are true but it makes me feel important.

Anyway, this past Friday my friend who I will call RJ was having a birthday. Down on his luck and going through a lot that I will not get into, RJ wanted to buy my book more than anything. Unfortunately, with the way his money and living situation is the dream wasn't happening any time soon. So for his birthday I decided to give him one of my books. Why not? As an artist he would be able to delve into it, plus it would alleviate his current situation which isn't so hot.

RJ and I met last night for iced cream. While finishing one book, RJ was starting mine. He asked me if the stories were real. I told him yes. RJ then asked if I was the pink gorilla at the beginning and said that I was. Without missing a beat, RJ said, "You made someone's anniversary. That's pretty special, April."

A smile spread over my face. RJ then continued, "You are very funny. Your book is very funny. But it's also an uplifting and inspiring book that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's a feel good book."

I was like wow. That was perhaps the kindest thing anyone said about my book.

RJ also said my book also made him believe in love again, and it made him want love. I was touched that it was changing my friend's life. This past week I got a tweet from a Forbes CEO who loved my pink gorilla and another fan note from someone else who read a chapter. This review, however, was perhaps the sweetest I had ever gotten.

Lately time and life hasnt been kind to my friend. However, maybe my book is helping to change his luck and put a little sunshine in my life. I am glad to help.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Books
www.buybooksontheweb.com


Come to my book signing event this Thursday November 15
Symposia Books
Hoboken
510 Washington St
7 pm
See you there xo

I, Inspiration

I am saying fuck you to the patriarchy by posing for this photo, using my body, not putting out and not swinging from a pole. I don't have to stick my head in the toilet nor my finger down my throat to make you love me. 

I have been told by a great many young people I inspire them. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s that I have the courage to be myself. Maybe it’s that I have the courage to live the life of an artist in an apartment that smells like hair spray and paint. Maybe it’s that my puppet children go with me everywhere I go.

A lot of young women tell me I inspire them. Perhaps it’s the message that they know at the end of the day they don’t need to be a giggling, stupid, Lucite shoe wearing bimbo with a stripper body. Maybe it’s because I let them know that it’s safe to have a brain.

A lot of young men tell me I inspire them as well. It’s because I know what pests women can be. It’s because I know the world wants them to be both macho and sensitive at the same time. I know their life is not easy. I understand therefore I am a friend.

I am told by a lot of gay kids I inspire them.  It’s because I tell them that no matter what others day, they are welcome. They are people like everyone else.

Maybe I suppose I use my big mouth a little too much, but they say that those who have big mouths are the ones God sends to carry the message. So here I am, fearless with my art. Carrying the message. I am letting everyone and all know that yes, I am an inspiration.

I would be your whore but I am much too opinionated. Translated, suck it. 

My platforms are the following. I support domestic violence awareness and prevention. After having an ex go crazy and stalk me a few years ago, I know stalking victims have no rights and in the eyes of many I provoked this man.

I support cyberbullying awareness and anti-bullying, because aside from the crazy ex getting his posse to cyberbully me I was also bullied in school. Bullying of any sort is wrong and is a detriment to anyone.

I am all for LGBTQ rights and the rights of gay people to marry. As a matter of fact, Jenn and Tiffany are getting married this weekend.

I also answer all my fan letters and use the platforms the world has given me to do good. I know, I am a superhero. Very soon I will be a superstar.

I am superfoxxx

I am an inspiration

I am taking over the world

Love

April

I am myself. We are ourselves. No one governs us but God.

Dancing in the Wind

When I was in college my junior year I was a mess. For starters I had a messy living situation where two of my roommates were abusing drugs. Meanwhile they would always turn on me as the bad guy for not doing my laundry as constantly as they did but what they were doing was illegal. On top of all of that I found myself engaged to someone who was sucking all the life blood out of me. The relationship was a disaster but what had become a snowball was becoming an avalanche that was consuming me. As you could imagine my mind was not always on keeping my eyes on the prize. The classes that were easiest for me were a breeze however those that were more difficult and took more effort for me were an unwelcome challenge to a woman being eaten up by the outside world. One of those classes was dance.

I remember my dance teacher at the time was a man by the name of Jeffrey Ferguson. Jeffrey had been a dancer with both the Joffrey Ballet when they were located in NYC and also toured the world with Alvin Ailey and his dancers. In his fifties Jeffrey could move better than the rest of us. Sounds incredible right? Well my plan was to hide in the back the entire year and copy off of my neighbor. He would never know the outside world was kicking my ass and I was less than engaged. Not to mention while tumbling had been my strength as a kid, keeping the rhythm had been my weakness. I figured Jeffrey would never know I was choosing to take the hour and fifteen minutes allotted to teach us how to dance as space to drown my thoughts in my fiancé and my impending roommate doom.

Wrong. Jeffrey knew right off the bat what I was up to. The first day of class he told me to pay attention not once but three times and told me right off the bat, “I see tremendous potential in you.” Translated, Jeffrey was like Santa. He knew who was sleeping and he knew who was awake, and if I chose to be an errant student in this class I would get my ass beat. Right off the bat Jeffrey let me know that my boy problems as well as my roommate problems were not welcome in to walk through his door in not so many words. Taking a deep breath while it was the kick in the behind that was being firmly delivered and that I desperately needed I dismayed because it was going to be a long year. Being a standup comedian dance was low on the list of priorities. I knew my quirkiness and puppets would open the doors for me. However when Jeffrey entered the building it moved up several notches on the ladder.

I thought about faking an injury to get out of dance class. Maybe I could take another singing elective. My voice was getting decent because I was starting to train it. Not to mention mask and gesture was one of my favorite classes because of my continual work with puppets, and Carlos and I got along swimmingly because of my free use of my imagination. Or maybe another movement class with Michael who adored me as well as the ideas I brought to each different assignment that I did. I also thought of a third acting class but two that lasted four hours every week were enough. So I decided to hang in there and dance.

There were times where I struggled, like how I cried my eyes out my first tap class having never danced. Then there were times I shined and got it, especially when I chose to get out of my own way. Still, even when I wanted to quit Jeffrey never gave up on me. Sometimes it meant telling me he was proud of a mountain I climbed that day in class. Sometimes it was letting me know the answer was not to tune out when I felt everything was overwhelming me. Sure I was probably one of his most errant students but somehow he always had faith I would get it.

My last day of class with Jeffrey I let him know I would not return the following year because I was graduating. I figured Jeffrey would have been stoked that he would never have to deal with me again. Not to mention I thought I was getting married and dance was the last thing on my mind. Instead of saying “good riddance” because after having me in class maybe he wanted to, Jeffrey told me something that I will never forget as long as I live. He said to me, “Don’t ever give up on yourself. You can do anything you want to in life, remember that.”

I always remembered those words. I remembered them when I eventually had the courage to break off an engagement to a man who was unhealthy for me in every way possible. I remembered them when I graduated from college, moved into my own apartment, and took the risk of a quirky job in order to pay rent. I have remembered them every time I set foot on a standup stage and tackled an audience that has been a challenge. I remembered them when I cleaned up my life and started anew.

Yes I have danced since graduation. I am not dance captain and have since moved to the middle of the line. I don’t let choreography overwhelm me either. Maybe I didn’t join Ailey like Jeffrey did and tour the world but I have the courage to do so many things that words do not cover them because of this class and this man, time step included.

Thank you Jeffrey. Thank you for pushing me and giving me the ability to dance into the wind. And now I live my life fully and courageously dancing, leaping, spinning, as fast as I can. Above all things my moves are tight, my mind is present, and I am pointing my toes. Love April