Sunday Morning (No Doubt)

The last few days have been a whirlwind of busy. I can’t even get into it it’s been so busy. There is some exciting stuff coming as a result of my DVD, YIPEE!!! My fans are watching my video stream and then buying the hard copy online. The video stream was my webmaster’s idea, genius. Either way, I hope word gets out there about me and my hard work.

Thursday my mom and sister came to town to start Heisman weekend. My sister was the 2004 Wendy’s High School Heisman Award Winner. They bring back the alumni every year for this event, and they crown a new winner. It is a fun weekend, but it is so intense on so many levels. Not just my family coming into town, but then it always falls when I am super, duper busy. I was exhausted to begin with, and had a filled last few days and a few coming up. Of course a family visit only intensifies everything.

On top of that, the event is nice and everyone is always dressed up. It is a so called “family” event, which means I have to curb my normally foul mouth. And the action of the weekend is usually jam packed between the activities the Wendy’s people have planned, the event itself, and familial fireworks. Add in my already crippling schedule and you get the need for a nap and a Red Bull.

Thursday night I took my mother and sister to Pippin on Broadway. A good friend got me good tickets for free and so I took the two. Skipper and my mom liked the first act, and I did too. The second act was a little, eh. Pippin had commitment issues. Then the ending was blah. Basically my mother, Skipper, and myself concluded that Pippin was a whiner that would never be happy.

After Thursday night was over came Friday, the most intense day. I told myself if I lived past Friday I could do Saturday and maybe the next six months. Friday I had a television show taping and then I was headed to perform at an animal benefit in Staten Island. Before that, I did some Christmas shopping with my mother and sister and we got matching dresses at Forever 21. After that, we had lunch at Juniors and I was on my way.

I went to my TV taping and gave my commentary. During one of my lines, I was kind of stuck in my head aka thinking. When I think real hard I look like I am going to kill someone. So they kept having me do the line and they commanded me to smile. I hope they use my footage, and I don’t look too much like an angry jerkoff New Yorker.

From there it was the ferry to Staten Island. On my journey to the event I passed the infamous Bay Street where Eric Garner was killed (RIP). The whole thing is kind of sad and they so need to put cameras on police cars. So then off to the event I went which was far out in the island in Tottenville aka where all the big houses and old horse farms are.

There was much drama surrounding this event. Apparently the night before the event there had been some disagreement that got heated. It was a gentle reminder of why I didn’t book and produce live events anymore, shit like this. One woman got so mad she even tried to cancel the event on facebook, and had purchased a table and didn’t show up. Again, a gentle reminder of why I stopped producing live events.

When I got there, I met the people and socialize a bit, which is not what I normally do when I perform. The DJ I had messaged wasn’t there, but his assistant was. I donated a few of my books to be auctioned off for charity and to benefit the animals. The people were nice, very passionate about animal rescue. I didn’t know a lot about animal rescue before that night so it was a little educational.

I sat at the table of the woman who tried to cancel the event and didn’t show up. Originally, I was supposed to go on at one time but the people from the rescue mission were speaking about the shape they found one of the dogs in. Then dinner was being served. Of course the demographic of the event was mostly women and some men who were dragged along because their wives were in rescue-not the normal April Brucker crowd. Not to mention I wasn’t told until I got there that a child was going to be present. It was as if God was trying to test me.

During dinner, there was some heated discussion about the adoption of the dog the benefit inspired and the ethics behind it. The woman sitting next to be had the most insight on the situation. I told her the event had some interesting behind the scenes happenings. She said, “There is always drama in rescue.”

As the discussion intensified, this same lady said with a big smile, one of those one wears when things are truly awkward, “So, when are you going on?”

I went on shortly after dinner. At first I did a little crowd work and they seemed like they would be into it. I was in the middle and almost surrounded by tables, so the only way to perform was to walk around. The crowd was laughing, but then they would return to talking amongst themselves, but then they would laugh again only if I engaged them. I had a nice set planned, but the second I started into my material I saw it wasn’t happening. So I decided to abandon Plan A and just go to them.

I got out my puppets and went from table, to table to table. One table, the one with the mix of guys and girls, was really receptive and took photos. Two tables of women were cool and laughed. One table was hard to crack completely, and another was 50/50 depending on the puppet. Granted, these people were tough like most SI crowds are, but sometimes you have to come to the people. Was the set a success? I dunno. All I know was it wasn’t a dismal failure, and people laughed and took photos. That’s the important part.

The crowd knew there was comedy, but wasn’t there to see comedy if it makes sense. While it wasn’t the best set I ever did, it wasn’t a complete disaster either. I made it work and sometimes that is what live entertainment is about. People were gracious afterwards, and they invited me to dance during the dance party. Also, the people who won copies of my book during the raffle friended me on facebook, and from the looks of it I got some new fans. They also did me a solid and made sure I got back to Manhattan, the and DJ played my song “Hell No, Joe.”

While the night was a far cry from what I did at the Metropolitan Room or the theater in Long Island, I tackled a mostly female crowd on Staten Island and wasn’t killed afterwards. I did alright. I wouldn’t have been able to do that 5 or 6 years ago. I wouldn’t have been that quick on my feet with the gear change. That in itself was a victory. My only prayer is that they enjoy my book. I also find myself perhaps wanting to foster a dog someday, and wanting to do more animal benefits if possible.

My only regret is I felt bad about how I ran out of the event, but the downside of having your mother in town is she thinks you are dead if you don’t pick up your phone. So I bounced out at 11:40. My driver was a nice dude, and we talked about life and family and all that jazz. Poor guy had another job at JFK early that morning, so although the animal peeps had covered my ride I gave him a generous tip. FYI, always tip your drivers well.

Friday had concluded and I wasn’t dead. The weekend was 2/3s done. Now I just had to live through Saturday.

Saturday came, and there was no way I was going to be Skipper’s date to breakfast. My mom went instead. I was originally going to go home, drop my stuff, and join my mom and sister at the hotel, but I nixed that plan. My mom had been half asleep waiting for me, and the hotel was only down the street. So I just went to there instead. I saw some people from the event by the elevators and we caught up. Yes, Ashford and his friend Manny. Ashford won the same year my sister did, and Manny is his buddy from business school. Ashford like my sis had just gotten engaged, and Manny’s engagement had broken. We shot the breeze for a bit before I went back to my room.

Of course my mom was up waiting for me. Life in comedy means I come tumbling in at all hours, and having my mom in town meant it wasn’t that easy. Some things never change. Either way, I was so exhausted that I just fell asleep in my clothes.

I woke up to a contraband breakfast smuggled from the hotel. Then I was told we were hitting the hotel gym then headed to a bowling event at Lucky Strike. FYI, Lucky Strike is the only bowling alley in NYC with a dress code. We walked over with Emma, a girl who won the Wendy’s High School award last year and was now attending Yale. She seemed like a nice lass. Emma was seeing a chap on the baseball team and playing lacrosse. She seemed to have it figured out kind of.

Our bowling game was interesting. Skipper and I were the bi-polar bowlers. We had some strikes, but then would just screw up. Emma was consistent. Ashland and Manny joined our team. Ashland was decent, but Manny was amazing. I was kind of fancy on Manny, but couldn’t tell whether he was into me or not. His doctor fiancé had dumped him because he didn’t make enough money, but now that he had completed business school she wanted Manny back.

I asked Manny whether or not he hit the strip club after the break up. Manny insisted strip clubs were unfulfilling. I then inquired as to whether or not be had sex with random women. Manny said he didn’t do that. Instead he went to business school. That’s when I lost interest. Not because he did something positive, but because I felt he was lying. No dude just breaks up with a girl and does a positive thing. There’s usually some drunken sex with randos.

After that we went back to the hotel for the event. Of course, we showered and got beautified. Originally, it was just going to be Skipper and myself. But then something happened and someone’s date backed out, so there was an extra ticket for my mom. As you can imagine the three of us jumped on top of that. My sister dawned her outfit and got ready. My mom changed hers a million times. I just tried to stay sane.

We raced to the Best Buy Theatre after the reception hoping to get good seats. Instead we found them slow to open the doors and waited outside in the cold. I cursed my sister out because it had been her idea for us not to bring spare shoes, and thus my bare toes were getting frozen. Finally, the doors opened and in we went.

There was some drama over where we would sit, because my mother is rather tiny and it is hard for her to see, and plus she hates to be cold. Then of course she wants to take a thousand photos and my sister Skipper was resistant. My mom wanted pictures up close and personal, so she snuck down to the stage. The corporate people thought she was in charge and asked her where to sit. My mom directed them, and then told them her single daughter April was there and to say hello. They waved and I waved back unaware that my mother was trying to sell me to a bunch of strangers. When I found out I almost killed her, but decided against it because if I did I wouldn’t have any more good stories for my blog. FYI, everyone in the vicinity thought this was funny.

The Heisman Ceremony started, and was lovely as always. My father who could not attend was watching live at home, and my mother was texting him during the telecast. As for my sister, she was texting Boomer her fiancé. Melvin Gordon and Amari Cooper were both very nice young men, and I know life will be good to either one. However, Marcus Mariotta won as we all knew he would. A nice, humble, mannered young man, he gave a speech that nearly moved the whole place to tears. Two words, “Go Ducks.”

After the ceremony, we met some former Heisman guys and their wives who were all quite nice. Got to see Matt Leinart again, and had not spoken to him since my sister won in 2004. He’s retired from the Pros, and now is just chilling out with his son I suppose who is very adorable. My mom accidentally hit Matt coming out of Starbucks with a door, FYI. Then we met Jim Plunkett and his wife who were both quite nice. They are passionate pit bull owners, and the bull they own (Godey I believe is it’s name), is very protective of their grandson. It was a good night.

That is, until my mom got her camera out and Skipper decided she was pictured out. Skipper walked away from our mom to join a conversation with some other folks. Fuming, my mom sent Skipper the following text:

“How dare you walk away from your mother? What is going to happen if I ever walk away from you, bitch? Did you learn nothing from the young man that won tonight?”

My mom sent this seething, scathing text to Skipper, someone who would never intentionally hurt anyone. The whole thing was amazing, and I almost died laughing. Then my mother commanded me to mingle. I went back into the broadcasting room, and met some people and learned more about the event. My mother followed me in and took a massive amount of photos. At least she was happy with one child, but that could easily change on a dime.

Then Skipper sent my mom an apology text and she joined us in the broadcasting room. We took some more photos, and then went to socialize. While Skipper and my mother had made peace, I could tell there was some animosity still brewing underneath. That is, until we saw a dude who looked like Colt McCoy. A few years earlier a guy had come to the Heisman’s impersonating Reggie Bush. This dude was forthcoming and admitted he was not Colt McCoy but rather the senior QB at Princeton. 

Well Skipper then informed him that I was single, and I was only a few train stops away and available. My mother joined the chorus and they both buried the hatchet as they both rejoiced in torturing me. I nearly killed them both right then and there. The Colt McCoy look a like felt my pain and was a good sport about it, especially when he learned my mother had tried to sell me earlier in the evening.

I would have killed my mother and sister, but again, would have no material for my blog.

We left and now Skipper had changed her mind, she wanted to take photos. I was pictured out and my mom was revved up and ready to go. I went with it, but bitched and moaned the entire time. When we got back to the hotel, my sister had to call Boomer and my mom had to call my dad. 

Having a significant other seems a lot like having a probation officer, you have to check in. Sigh….

Then I remembered the weekend was about family. I also remembered the people at the dog benefit putting their heart and soul into a good cause even if it looked like they all might kill each other. I remembered how well they took care of me, making sure I got home safe. I remembered the hard work behind the Heisman event, and Mariotta’s endearing speech. And yes, he had probably wanted to throttle his family members several times during the weekend.

But family cannot be replaced. They are who they are and you need to roll with it. You also need to put your best foot forward, and sometimes your job was just to make something work when up against the wall. This includes saving animals, performing onstage, dealing with family, and playing football.

My mom and sister got off safe, but not before I told some asshole in the elevator to go fuck himself. He was being an asshole to impress a girl. I should have punched him but figured he wasn’t worth a felony. That is when it occurred to me that the weekend was over, I lived, and it had been the New York woman that got me through it. Now that New York woman needed a rest before she got ARRESTED.

And I can’t take my photo for World’s Longest Variety Show if I am in lock up. Yes bitches we are going for the Guinness Record xoxo

www.aprilbrucker.com

The Live Comedy Conundrum

This past week, I have been flirting with the idea of possibly producing a live event. Without getting into detail, I have my pick of spaces. One is a cabaret venue, a legendary one, that I have a longstanding relationship with. The other is an Off-Broadway Theatre on restaurant row, one in which show that begin there end up on Broadway at some point, or are critical favorites. I have earned the right to consort with both. Dealing with which one I should pick is six of one and half dozen of another.

In the end, it is the same storm of bullshit and the same red tape. The question is, in the end which storm of bullshit and red tape do I want to deal with? Well kids, what I am trying to say is welcome to the wonderful world of live theatre in any capacity.

There is nothing like live performance, whether it is comedy, cabaret, or theatre. You are in the moment, and anything can happen. Applause is like an orgasmic response or a drug, and sometimes both at the same time. It is a high when a show goes well, and like a heroin addict you only want more. The actors are feet away, and then your scene partner forgets a line. You make it work, and together your effort almost makes it better than what you rehearsed as the audience is glued. You get a heckler, and your one the mark comeback is better than any joke you ever wrote as you get a round of applause……There’s no business like show business.

When I started in New York, I did a lot of live performing. For most Saturdays, I performed as a part of a children’s show at an Obie Award winning theatre, both legendary for it’s talent and the eccentric members that lived there. I also performed for a short while doing improv, but improv is not my gift. Then was my stint in a weekly Off-Broadway dinner theatre show where I played a meaty, fun character role and moved up to a lead. Add in my Saturdays with a puppet show at Green Acres Mall for the children where I was head puppeteer and voice artist. I also did a few variety shows and play readings during my NYU days. So I do appreciate the lore of live theatre.

Then in addition, I spent my younger years performing comedy, and quite a bit of it. I spent most nights in basements either soaring or dying for various crowds, and then my food money on subway fair. Sometimes, I would be up onstage six times a night. Comedy at it’s core is in the moment. Like acting, it is based on the truth we are all trying to get to. The audience can tell if you are so full of shit you can’t see straight. Comedy makes a performer real honest real quick, because comedy comes from that place of being uncool. This is why a comedy club is so magical. Right there, in front of a crowd of strangers watching, you can make a discovery that is not only funny, but the root of who you are as a person.

While acting was what my degree was in, and I did both acting and comedy in college, standup was where the doors ultimately opened after I graduated. I found myself on the road most weekends, and became rather good at hosting and middling. When I got the chance, I started hosting my own weekly mic in the basement of a taco joint. The ceiling leaked and most of the time the stage made out of something akin to plywood was a safety hazard, and the mic almost never worked. We got crowds of tourists to watch us, and we all were baptized by fire. After that, I hosted another mic and produced show wherever they would let me.

And then slowly, I began to burn out.

Around my mid-twenties, I found myself on the road most weekends. While the audiences were sometimes good, the money was awful and was eaten up by gas price. Sure, I was getting experience, but burning my paycheck was getting old, especially if they paid me shit for ten hours up and ten hours back. I made comedian friends, but most of the time they weren’t going anywhere except gigs that were 50 bucks and a burger. I also ran the open mic circuit, but as each mic had inside jokes and I found myself consistently performing for the sick fucks that are comedians, I didn’t find myself getting better let alone funnier. Then I hosted and produced for one club and it’s sister, and the manager I worked under was an abusive, tired, embittered frustrated actor who had never risen above student films. Most of the time, I did check spots, being bumped for male comedians or those who somehow were just luckier than I was in that setting.

Then in order to get stage time, it became a rat race that made me ill to run. It was like a thousand rats, literally, going for the same tired ass piece of cheese. What, a spot in some basement for three people because the producer won a shit award? Bitch please.

On top of that, the combination late nights, long mileage from travel, stress, and poor eating habits were making me sick. Sometimes I would vomit because I ate bad food. Sometimes I would vomit because I was so exhausted. Sometimes I would be too sick to vomit, I would just collapse at random times in my apartment. My body was tired and I couldn't feel it because I just kept going. Yet the more I kept going, the more I felt like a rat in the same rat race on the rat wheel going crazy. 

Frustrated and unfulfilled, I began making my own puppet videos. May Wilson and I interviewed celebrities or just did skits, sometimes with other puppeteers, but sometimes on our own. When I made my videos I found I had more fun, and I found I wasn’t as bitter, angry, or tired. I also found more opportunities opened for me with my writing in conjunction with my videos. As I was getting money to blog and make videos, I began to question why I was even still pursuing standup comedy, an art form on life support. 

I produced shows several more times before hanging up that towel for a few years. During that point, I went through lowered attendance, possibly because my videos were getting all my energy. I started to haggle with the space and then didn’t care. In the end, when as one producer, a small time comic who I will not name, aggressively tried to steal my people for his audience. That is when I knew I had to go in a new direction. So I made more videos, helped pitch a possible television idea, and drafted my book.

A few months later, my puppet children and I got a television opportunity that changed our lives forever. I put the club I had done so much work for on television, giving them more exposure than they had gotten elsewhere. They thanked me by firing me from my job. I figured a flagship club would scoop me up. Didn’t happen. So I was back to square one with no home.

Other doors opened. Because of my video making, I got a job as a talking head and other talking head gigs followed, sometimes online and sometimes various apps. While they weren’t perfect, they all paid. Not to mention my night wasn’t dependent on whether or not people showed up. If no one showed up, I could still do my rant or whatever else. On one site I could be booted off if I wasn’t liked, but at the same time I could perform for up to a few thousand at a time. Question: Why the hell was I worrying about a shit comedy spot for three fucking people?

Then there were more doors that opened. I had not only the opportunity to write my book, but to publish it. I also have blogged for some hoity toity blogs and magazines. In my simple days of being one of a herd of cattle, I never had these opportunities not would I have sought them out.

I also was able to do some things with acting, and was even in a television show, commercial, and movie. Not only did I realize how much I missed my first love, but more than anything, I discovered how much I liked doing film. I was able to go, do my job, and make a new discovery on each take. After filming a pilot for IFC, I came to believe there was more to be done in this area for myself not only as an artist, but as a person.

Of course, I was also able to do more with puppetry. I not only got to work as a ventriloquist, but also a hand and rod puppeteer. I did a weekly show for children, and served as head puppeteer in a short film winning accolades in festivals.

Lastly of course, not only did I start to record music, but also had a song that was number one on the internet charts for five weeks. Making the videos for these was fun, and recording was a blast. It seemed like putting standup on the back burner and exiting the club opened up a whole new world full of possibilities, creativity, and not so much tired ass bullshit. Getting fired from that club may have actually been one of the best artistic and personal accomplishments ever.

I told myself that if I were to return with the gusto I once had, it would be on my terms. So this past year, I figured I had gotten notoriety and was somewhat visible, I might as well. This past April, I produced and starred in my DVD taping. For two months I ran my set in my apartment, did publicity, and harassed anyone who would listen about the event. Day of the event, success. However, had a Rocky-esque meltdown afterwards. My friend, a fellow puppeteer, impersonator, and opening act assured me that it was all going to be okay pre-show. It was, but it almost killed me. 

Then I remembered that while TV appearances and such got me fans, there was a reason my live appearances were limited. It was because the planning, drama beforehand, and everything else leading up to it could kill a person. Sure, the payoff was wonderful, but was it worth all the shit? 

After that, I started to do more comedy again and remembered what had attracted me in the first place. And in what seemed like a call back to an era gone, I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t bitter that I wasn’t born a man. I was actually energized to get onstage, and had a tablet full of jokes. About a month later, I headlined a theatre for not one but two nights. I managed to kill both nights, and made a crowd of new fans. The first night the crowd was cute, but the second night the house was packed. Both shows made me remember why I pursued comedy in the first place. It was because I loved making others laugh. 

However, I also found myself frustrated with the promoter. He promised me my opener would pack the house first night, and my opener failed to do that. Second night, the promoter overbooked the show with every friend and comedian he felt sorry for. Thus it made my job harder because instead of a headliner show, it could well turn into a situation where the audience was tired of comedy and there was no way in hell I was having that. I let my grievance be known and was accomodated, but it was some frustration, and again, remembered why my appearances were limited. It is the before show drama that we must all face, novice to headliner alike. Sure, the show turned out well, but I hate having to turn into a diva on people. He was a good dude, but I know what works. I have been around too long. 

About a month afterwards, I did other spots and readied myself for a book signing event at a well known cabaret theatre. My dance card was full, and I did not anticipate this as I got the event date. Not to mention it was a holiday weekend, and the only time I could get my performers together. My boss Bruce’s assistant Laila helped me plan the event, and it ended up being a success. But there was some drama with the venue and confusion over the guest list and other details that nearly made me lost my mind. Actually, I think I was screaming in a bar restroom during one of my meltdowns. The event ended up being a success as I said. My coworkers were superb, my boss fabulous, and everyone enjoyed the show and my book. Yet it was another reminder why I stepped back from live performing and producing both.

For the last several months, I have done an open mic here and there and a show or two but nothing real serious. Organizing a DVD taping and a book release event will kick a person’s ass. Plus I hate having to pay for stage time. Call me a bitch but I am above it. Yes, I am above it. Not to mention the last month and a half I have been more on the broke end of things anyway.

It is also making me question which way I should go with my career. I love being onstage, but hate the bullshit that come with live events. Should I stick with film, go back to acting class, and run that way? Maybe it’s time I knock on that door again. I am finally old enough to start playing some of the roles I am good for. Plus I have comedic timing, life experience, and other skills I can bring to the table. If anything, I am ten times the actor I was ten years ago.

Or maybe I should do the whole writing thing. I love writing, and have enjoyed writing my blog and for other publications. Heck, I even wrote a book. Maybe I should get a steady freelancer or staffer position somewhere. After all, I can write in any and all styles. Plus like the whole acting things, I have comedic timing, life experience, and loads of other skills I bring to the table. I am ten times the writer I was ten years ago, when I first started blogging.

Then there is the pure puppet route. This year I ended up doing some hand and rod work, and becoming a student of the craft of puppetry, and not just ventriloquism. I want to do more and learn more, not to mention there aren't very many women who are good puppeteers to begin with. 

For some people, stand up comedy is the springboard. For others, it is the destination to film/television/radio, writing, producing, club management and every other goal. Maybe standup was just the mere springboard for me. If that is the case I accept it.

Should I swallow the sexism, bullshit, politics, and tired ass drama of live performance to chase a laugh? Should I concentrate my energies elsewhere as the doors continue to open there? I dunno, I’ll sleep on it. 

www.aprilbrucker.com