Trying my hand at "Skee Pong" on set with Jason Chong at Festival Fishbowl
As I was heading into the Light Hotel this avo to get ready for my show, I heard some news that rocked me.
A family member – a distant family member, but one whom I have extremely positive memories of from childhood – died. I was so shocked, not just by the news itself, but also by how very upset I felt about it. And selfishly, I was also more than a little worried about being cool by the time the curtain rose, so to speak.
For… upset or not, the show must go on.
I have had to perform before under circumstances where I was deeply sad but still needed to make people laugh. It was two days after my friend Chris Daniel had died and I was flown down to Sydney to perform in a filmed comedy spot. Prior to Chris’ sudden passing, I was elated thinking about this gig. But after, I was terrified I was going to get onstage and completely lose it. I didn’t. But looking at the footage of that show afterwards, I could see the sadness on my face. And it was one of the best gigs I ever did. Because… I just didn’t give a shit about it anymore.
Tonight was my first ever sold-out show; again, a gig I was completely over the moon about prior to hearing about my family’s loss. Only after? Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t care as such, but in processing the news, it certainly put everything in perspective again.
Really. This does not matter. How tonight goes, whether there are reviewers, audience members, promoters, whatever. In the grand scheme of things, it does not matter.
The people you love matter.
Please allow me my cheesy musings.
Earlier today, during an appearance on the Festival Fishbowl online show (which seriously made me want to make an online show so badly. Just add it to the to-do list, imaginary PA Beryl!) Sam Simmons made some comments about not caring about comedy that really unnerved me.
On the Festival Fishbowl set.
Jason Chong and Sam Simmons getting comfy.
When he asked me why, I told him I thought it was because I had gotten to that place of not caring (post car crash especially), but then when things started going well the caring started to creep back in… listening to him go on about it made me wonder whether I was now at a point where I was actually caring too much all over again. About the wrong things, that is.
But after this afternoon?
I think I’m all good.
Checking out some street theatre in the mall.
