Frank Sinatra sings that song about the lady being a tramp. The song’s lyrics basically list of a bunch of reason why the lady is a tramp. I think one of the reasons is because she wouldn’t hang out with people she didn’t like. I think maybe that makes me a tramp too.
Tonight I went to an open mic. Usually the people hosting it are people that I like, which is why I go. Unfortunately, tonight that was not the case.
I was running it pretty close to get there by signup time, so I ran from my car. I saw the guy there, but didn’t realize he was hosting, so I kept going. Finally when I got there, I saw two comedians who I do like, and they told me that the guy I don’t like was hosting. Well, I don’t think they knew that I don’t like him; they told me he was the one hosting, but they used his name. It wasn’t like they said, “hey, that guy you don’t like is hosting,” or “you don’t like the guy who is hosting.”
I rolled my eyes and then just walked back to my car. I think that the comedians that I like were a little confused because I think they like the guy, and like I said before, they didn’t know that I don’t like him. That’s why I’m a tramp.
Maybe it’s just a sign that this isn’t something I’m meant to do, because lately there aren’t very many open mics run by people that I like anymore, and even some of the ones run by people I do like just aren’t fun for me. I used to enjoy doing pretty much any open mic, maybe like 5 years ago. Now I’m super picky.
But, it’s fine. Things change. I’ve been doing an improv open mic once a week and enjoying that. I was thinking the other day about comedians that make it. So much of it is networking, but that is true of many types of careers, not just show business. Networking has been very difficult for me in comedy, but I don’t know if that necessarily means I’m bad at networking. I think you network with people you enjoy networking with, and your career can end up being just as much about the people you like to surround yourself with as it is about what you like to do, if not more. I think early on when I started comedy, I didn’t value myself enough to understand that, and thought that I should surround myself with these people simply because they also did stand-up, and that if it didn’t feel right, maybe it was me.
Then I got home and I was like, oh shit, I could have gone to see Keith Lowell Jensen at Punchline and I forgot all about it. That was probably a good show.