The downside to gigging in Canada
So I’m on my way to Yuk Yuk’s last night, having set out some two and a half hours PRIOR to the gig to allow myself the requisite time to get lost (which I’ve been making a habit of every time I’ve driven to Calgary thus far).
It’s a snowy night. The roads are icy. And it’s pitch black.
Yet nothing will stop me. For this is my first night at Yuk Yuk’s! And I am psyched! And…I am hardcore!
Then the rain starts. Which quickly turns to ice on my windscreen. Which, combined with the trucks zooming by in lanes which I can’t even see the markings of…leaves me feeling a little frazzled. Suddenly I can’t see a thing, and I’m struck by two thoughts:
1. If I die tonight, thus leaving my kids motherless for a 7-minute spot at a comedy club, I’m gonna be mighty peeved.
2. There is no WAY I’m leaving this planet to the sound of a Jessica Simpson track. (Hey, it was the only radio station I could get reception on, gimme a break!)
And so, I did the unthinkable, pulled over at the nearest petrol station, calmed myself and phoned Tim to ask him to call the club and explain that I wasn’t game to make it. “Wow,” teased Tim. “You’re giving up a gig? It must be REALLY bad!”
And so I dragged my sorry icicled butt back home at a mind-boggling highway pace of 60kph. All dressed up with nowhere to go, I got home in time to read books to my little dude and kiss both kidlets goodnight, then drowned my sorrows in some way-too-rich licquer with the Tim-meister, followed by practising on my keyboard (I’m learning to play Jerry Lewis style…yeehaw!) and then staying up WAY too late to polish off Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up. Which, might I add, is so full of insight and general all-round marvel that when I was only a third of the way through I already could not WAIT to read it all over again! If you are a comedian, you must read this. That is an order.
Now excuse me while I finish calming down this morning. After last night’s highway escapades, I think I’m due for at least a chant or forty-four.