When I returned to Los Angeles stand-up after a multi-year break in 1996, I made great creative progress very fast because I determined that the social aspect of the then-burgeoning alternative scene would not distract me. I simply wouldn’t care if I was included in gatherings or loved or liked or understood or respected other than creatively (if that). It worked!
And then I cared.
And was undone.
Fortunately, a return to New York stand-up over the last three weeks, though more limited in scope, has given me an opportunity to be better than I was at that time. I have been strong, confident and self contained. Except for yesterday, when I realized on the subway toward Manhattan that I cared. Socially. Again.
And when I went on, I was something a gibbering mess.