Part 2: 2001-2002 |
The very beginning of 2001, I quit the job I had been working for the last 6 years to start my next 6 year job cycle at the pub where I still work. And I had my first “tour”--four shows in two days in Massachusetts, set up by my good friend K-Lean-x of the now defunct Bromp Treb, who also counted Josh and Liza as members. It was to consist of a cable access gig in Schenectady, New York, then a house party in Pittsfield (on the same day). Then a small party in Boston, capped with a free show at the yurt at Hampshire College. (A “yurt” is a Mongolian temporary structure--the Hampshire Yurt is neither.) Ultimately we did three of the four, and by the end of the weekend I felt that my destiny was set.
I have written about the shows in my blog, so I won’t rehash here. But what I never really talked about there was how much this generi-tour meant to me. I spent these days hanging out with great people, goofing around and playing music, putting myself out there as this crazy solo performer with his own special thing that for whatever reason, just seemed to work for people. I just really felt so happy to be doing what I was doing. At some point in these few days I knew that this was the kind of happiness I would always come to seek. Much like people seeking the Nexus in Star Trek: Generations, I felt like I would do anything to climb back inside such a time of pure joy.
Soon after, I had my first big show at the Ottobar, then a series of shows at Winchester’s Comedy Club (all of which are highlighted in the blog) until mid 2002, when I played what turned out to be my last show, at the Spotlighter’s Theatre in Baltimore. It got a little exhausting: trying to get shows, practicing, promoting, trying to get anyone and everyone to come out and see you, then see the fruits of your labor as only a fraction of the people who said they’d come actually do. (Note to anyone who cares: don’t tell me you’re coming to my show if you really have no intention of it. I’ll know. You’re not sparing my feelings by lying to me, for it is your loss if you do not come, not mine.) Like a constant cycle of never-ending shows, with no new material, nothing to inspire me to play for the same people whom I quite frankly could not blame for not wanting to keep seeing me.
I was worn out, maybe, I was losing steam, a little, but for whatever reason I just flat-out stopped, and didn’t pick it up again for three long years.