Showbusiness

On the last "White People Crazy" podcast I discussed how easy it is for even marginally attractive women and marginally skilled chit chatters (major bonus if you're both) to advance in comedy. I also discussed why I've been working and grinding my ass off rather than just hobnobbing like a moron. One week after I posted that show I was rejected from the Burbank Comedy Festival, which is hosted by a comedy club called "Flappers." During my last three shows at Flappers I did extremely well, yet I was rejected. At one of those shows I brought in four people, on whom Flappers probably made more than $100 total, yet I was rejected. When I noticed that I wasn't accepted to the festival I wanted the comics who were listed to be much better than I so I would have no doubt that the right choices were made and I could sleep easily. Yet when I studied the list of 200 (out of 700 or so who submitted) comics who got accepted-- one of whom is 12 years old-- I knew that the extreme amount of disrespect that they showed to me was overwhelming. It was overwhelming to the point that I fell into a severe depression. More than twenty of the names that I recognized immediately on the list were insulting to me, and many (many, not most) of the other 180 or so comics who I watched on Youtube were mediocre at best. Never mind that most of them are attractive women and/or Jewish. My depression wasn't helped by the fact that two different comics who were accepted to the festival confided to me, "I didn't even think I was going to get in because I didn't do well on my audition video."
I destroyed on my audition video.
With me, depression is generally followed by rage. I become enraged at the people who made me sleep off profound sadness. For me, rage is productive. This event is life-altering, and it's a motivating factor for a lot of work and preparation that I have done since.
It has caused me to reconsider my priorities. As I said recently onstage when I talked about this experience-- and several first year comics gasped at this statement because they knew its meaning-- I'm almost five years into this game. The noose is tightening, man. At the six year mark you're no longer considered "new." People generally stop calling you "open micer" even if most of your performances are at open mics.
I'm fucking tired of open mics.
This desperation coupled with my thorough disgust for how far comedy has broken away from a meritocracy has caused me to prepare to open something in either the Sherman Oaks or Studio City region of L.A.
If any comics are reading this, watch for it. It's comin'.