Blind Sided

The last few weeks things have been going like gang busters in my life. Work has been insane. At the middle of April I recorded my DVD. Then after that, the telegrams really picked up which was good. Of course I also did a theatre at the end of May, so the whole month was spent prepping for that. I also started a new sports broadcasting gig at Ranter. As a result, I covered the Stanley Cup and am now covering the World Cup. After that, I headlined a theatre for two nights in Long Island, killing both but commuting an hour and a half back and fourth. Then I booked a national television show. Filmed a music video. After that I did a photo shoot with a guy from Hearst. Oh, and then I filmed a short film where I did voice and puppet work with some folks from the Harvard documentary lab. On top of that I am doing an advanced level show business class and a graduate level publishing seminar. Yes I have to do homework for both.

I also recorded several podcasts and mini web shows in there as well.

Did I mention I am organizing a NYC book signing?

I haven't stopped for nearly two and a half months. I love the work I am doing, and the people I am working under and working alongside are amazing. However, these kernels of excitement go out the window when you are exhausted. And for the last two days I have felt like I have been a sherpa hauling something up a mountain. Just nonstop. Monday I found myself especially moody. It was hot. People were rude. I couldn't take it.

This morning was super tough. I slept more than I had in some time. I had a morningish delivery. Did I want to get out of bed and schlepp three blocks to work? Hell no. It was three blocks, but I was feeling indignant. All I did was work. On top of that I had school in the evening and my homework was 3/4 done but I still had one thing to do. The delivery went okay. But the paranoia of being exhausted was sinking in. Would they call my boss and say I sucked? I made a joke about the company? Would they be offended? Then I remembered coffee was not a food group for as much as I wanted it to be. Either way, I felt super duper off center.

Just when I thought I could sit on my ass, watch Netflix, and complete my homework my boss called. Second telegram. Ordinarily, I am glad for the work, but I had a severe case of the fuck its. Not to mention I was in no mood to wear makeup and it was a birthday cake show girl. Anyway, I got my costume and off I went.

On my way there, I saw a blind woman as I was crossing the street. She looked like she was going to cross. At first, I wanted to see if I could possibly cross her, but it's New York and I was in a hurry. She kept sticking her hand in and out and I wasn't sure what she was doing. Was she seeing if it was safe to cross? Either way, the poor thing was so confused. She was helpless. Something told me to step in and try to assist.

I asked her, "Do you need me to cross you, m'am?"

"No, I need a cab." She replied.

"Can I get you one?" I asked her. The way she was hailing she would have been there all day. She was doing the smart thing of standing out of the street, but it's the only way in New York City cabs will see you.

"If you see one." She said.

I stepped into the street and hailed a cab. Within seconds, it came to us. "Here you go, m'am." I said as the cab stopped in front of us.

"Can you guide me over. I'm blind." The woman explained in case I had forgotten.

"Sure." I took her hand and guided her towards the cab. I opened the door, in she went and off she went. Suddenly, the rotten mood I had been in vanished. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. In my tired mood, I had become sucked into my own selfish little world and had become an eternal professional victim. I was the female Sisyphus, holding the world on my shoulders. No wonder I was in such a pissed off mood.

In my maximum pissage, I had thrown my gratitude out the window. The poor blind woman probably would have done anything to switch places with me. I can see and she can't. That's the obvious. But there are evil people who might try to hurt her because she is a disabled woman.

At that moment I realized my life was really good. I work hard, but it is starting to pay off. For starters, I absolutely rocked the second telegram I did. And I am doing a book signing/show with my coworkers and boss on July 3 at Don't Tell Mama @ 7:30 where my boss is going to give me a singing telegram lesson. Plus I get paid to dress up in a costume, sing and make people happy almost daily.

I also filmed a DVD at a venue Liza Minelli and Joan Rivers have been known to stop into. Soon to be released.

I get to follow sports and rant about them, two things I love and now get paid to do.

I am potentially going to be on national television again with my puppets.

I got to headline a theatre 2 nights in a row, and this has been a dream of mine forever.

The photos from the shoot look great, and the shoot was fun.

The puppet work and voice work from the short film was so much fun I was upset when we wrapped. And when everyone left, I was sad we had to say goodbye because I liked them so much.

So far the music video looks awesome.

My acting and writing teacher are both awesome, too.

Bottom line, sometimes it takes helping someone else to get out of your own bullshit to realize that's what it is, bullshit. With that I turned my frown upside down and replaced it with an attitude of gratitude. I am doing what I always have wanted to do and I am getting paid to do it. I don't want for anything, and I am healthy.

You can't get tired when you are chasing your dreams. Especially if your dreams are to make others laugh and smile.

And if you do, you simply need to eat more red meat.

Oh, and if you are in a funk, be of service to someone else. You are in your own quick sand. You are in your darkness. Don't fall victim to the crap in your head. We all have a blind side, and sometimes it is stepping outside ourselves to assist someone else that clears our focus.

Love
April

Hitchhiking in Heaven

Over the years, in between the performing and the comedy, I have found myself stranded at a great many places. To make a long story short, I have had some adventures on the road. Yes, I have done some hitchhiking.

My first big hitchhiking experience was when I was twenty three years old. I was gigging out in Long Island, Port Jeff to be exact. I had the directions to the hotel where I was to be performing. As I was walking down the street I saw that the directions took me off the beaten path, to the middle of the woods. I had no idea where I was going, what I was doing. That was sort of the metaphor for that point in my life. Only eighteen months before I had been fired from a retail job and tried to do other things but the universe always sent me here. Then I heard behind me, “You lost?” It was a woman and her two small children. They didn’t look like killers. I told them where I was going and they were alarmed I was hiking through the woods so late at night and offered me a lift. They let me in and took me four blocks, saving me a hellacious hike with the lions, tigers, and bears. They were nice people. I liked them.

Next hitchhiking adventure was much less pleasant. It was about a year later when I was doing a show in Long Island. It was a good night performance wise, but the promoter got way creepy. When this (male) promoter passed me he didn’t have to accidentally not so accidentally pat my ass. In addition he would make inappropriate sexual comments. When I looked grossed out he would say, “Just kidding. You are a comedian, take a joke.” It wasn’t a joke when he invited me to the back of the venue to talk where he was dark and he pressed his disgusting body against mine. He told me my material was too bitter and he could fix me as he attempted to slip his tongue in my mouth. My fight and flight took off as I pushed him off of me, got my stuff, and ran. I didn’t know where I was going, expect I was gone. Walking down the block I looked scared and panicked. Again, a woman with two girls pulled over and asked if I was alright. I just starting crying and they took me to the nearest train. I was scolded because the area was so dangerous at night. Nonetheless I took the scolding. I was just glad that some male promoter who told me I was funny just to get me into bed couldn’t take sexual advantage of me. He could save his sexual appetite for the local gentlemen’s club and their cottage cheese strippers and I could go home.

The following hitchhiking adventure was sort of sweet. I had just finished doing a puppet show at a country club when I had packed it in and was ready to go. The booker was sort of disorganized and had two helpers that were clearly on drugs and nodding off. As a result I had to pick up slack when the people were doing the limbo and nudge her so she knew not to nod off in front of the children. Then the booker not only had the nerve to scold me but wrote me a check that later bounced. Walking home from this hell, I saw an older couple driving along. They asked if I needed a ride and I said yes. The Glenn Miller Orchestra blasting led me to believe they were harmless. We laughed about old movies and talked about how they had a granddaughter my age. They said that I looked like the puppet girl from Rachael Ray. When I confirmed my identity they said Jerry Springer was mean. That was the first time I was recognized. McAwesome.

A few months later I was in some part of Jersey doing a gig when I was walking down a deserted road and got lost. There was no sidewalk, only woods for the most part. The destination was up the road, a car shop to deliver a telegram to one of the guys who worked there as a mechanic. As I straggled near the side of the road a truck pulled up and asked if I needed a lift. I eyed him suspiciously. This was how young women died. He asked me where I was going. I mentioned the car shop up the road. He smiled and told me he knew the guys and they were all good. He named them all, including the one I was to sing to. I began to soften, got in his truck, and got a ride. He was very nice, dropped me off, and then waited around until I was done. The gig went well and he took pics. He asked me where I was headed and I mentioned the train aka middle of nowhere. He gasped and informed me trains only can every so often and that he was going to Hoboken and offered to take me there. During our hour ride to Hoboken he told me he was a skateboarder and hobby celebrity autograph seeker. I got home in a timely manner. Plus I had a good laugh. Did I mention he even bought me a coffee? Bonus!

About two and a half years later, I was in Staten Island getting ready to do a taping for a cable access show. It was a reunion of sorts. I was getting to see David, my New York Dad, Joanie, and of course Nevin. It was sort of a homecoming because I hadn’t been to CTV in years, and since then I had been on major television so it was homegirl does good kind of. Nevermind I was still broke as hell. I ended up on the wrong side of the building, the repair side. Seeing I was lost, one of the men who was rather good looking offered me a lift to the other side of the parking lot. He was good looking so I was mentally retarded at the moment. Plus if he was going to kill me there were an awful lot of witnesses. I chatted, flirted, and then was heartbroken when I saw the wedding ring. But he took me to where I needed to go.

Fast to a few months later. It’s spring and I am in Jersey delivering a telegram. I am unsure of where I am going except the road splits in a certain way. It was starting to rain. The clouds were getting darker and scarier. Just then a woman pulled up and asked if I was lost. I told her sort of, I had no clue where I was going so I told her the address. She stopped and said, “Oh sweetheart, you are way off.” She invited me in her car. Old and sweet, I safely assumed she wasn’t an axe murderer. She took me to where I needed to go. I thanked her and saw a Bible on her floor. Maybe God sent an angel my way to keep me from danger. I don’t know. I never did get her name. But some force was perhaps watching over me that day.

One time I had a crazy two-fer. On my way to a Jersey chicken I heard, “APRIL BRUCKER!” I look over and it’s the producer for the show I am doing that evening. He ends up giving me a ride to the destination. We talked and that was McAwesome. We both remarked on how random this whole thing was. What were the freaking odds? On the way back I was lost and ended up getting a ride from a pizza delivery guy who knew no English but gave me a coupon for free chicken wings. After that, I got a slice of anchovie pizza and ended up having a good set that night. Some days are just red letter that way.

Now here I was last Friday. Hiking by the highway in Jersey. It was something out of a film noir because I am currently going through a certain film noir situation aka an out of control fan who has seen me on television has stepped over the line. The police are involved and it has been interesting. Lost, I saw a Fed Ex truck and asked him for directions. He told me it was a long way down the hill and he gave me a ride. He said I had to lay low cause Fed Ex guys can’t do that. I asked him if he was a murderer. He laughed and said no. I ended up giving him the post card to order my book and got out to do my singing telegram.

I guess I wrote this blog because I just want these people to know that wherever they are, I appreciated what they had done for me. More often than not they were good to me with wanting no reward in return. I could have been some nut that robbed them, but of course I am just a harmless eccentric with puppets and costumes. They could have raped, robbed, and killed me but didn’t. Just as there is evil in this world, there is also a benevolence. In our jading as adults, we must not forget that selflessness, especially when the world tempts us to be so selfish.

As the tide starts to change in my life, and people who saw me once upon of time as their chicken or in some dingy basement see me on television or wherever else, I want them to know that their generosity was not forgotten. That I didn’t forget. Someday when I have my mansion (hopefully soon) I will remember the person who gave me a lift when I was about to hike through the dark woods/running from a creepy man/down the road from the train/walking down a desolate road/headed the wrong way in the rain/going down a steep hill. You get the picture. If there is ever an opportunity to return the favor I will.

In the words of Blanche Dubois, “I always depend on the kindness of strangers.”

Love,

April Brucker

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

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