I Don't Have An Act Anymore

Wallace D. Wattles, writes in The Science of Getting Rich,” Wherever there is unexpressed possibility, or function not performed, there is unsatisfied desire.”

Last night I went to Joey’s Comedy Club in Livonia. I need a killer five-minute set for my eventual appearance on the Mo’Nique Show. When the talent coordinator calls to book, I want to be prepared. I’m sleepy as hell. For a few years now, I've been waking up between four and five in the morning. Don’t ask. Menopause maybe? Life? Who knows? I surrendered a long time ago. I’m sleepy but excited. I have an idea of what I want to talk about but there’s nothing written and crafted that I feel confident will bring laughter. It’s all new, fresh, untried and untested. I note I don’t feel scared, just excited. I’m last on a line up of sixteen comics. As I said I don’t have an “act.” Not anymore. Not since my mother passed in 2005. Grief stripped me of that need. Honestly, between you and me, I don’t want an “act.” It’s too stressful. I can’t relax if I have to protect my ego every single second. All I want is to connect with the audience. I love that! It excites me. When that connection happens the space becomes magical, anything can happen. We fly! Oh The Places We'll Go, remember Dr. Seuss?

When I first started doing stand up in 1989, I had no idea that comedians had an “act.” I didn’t know they told the same bit or performed the same routine over and over for different audiences. I thought they just walked out there, told stories and jokes and made people laugh. Wasn’t I surprised to find that wasn’t the case? So I built an “act.” It took me a long time to build it. My act was polished. I was opening for Joan Rivers, headlining and eventually I became bored with my “act.”

“A man’s highest happiness is the bestowal of benefits on those he loves. Love finds it most natural and spontaneous expression in giving.”

Walk onstage without material, a safety net? A risky business, dangerous if one has a fear of bombing all comedians do. Boredom was killing me. I love making people laugh, but I wanted to enjoy it. So I jumped into the unknown and it was exhilarating. When I sit on Mo’Nique’s couch I want her to know I was Made in Detroit at Joey’s with love. 

“It is perfectly right that you should give your best attention to the Science of Getting Rich, for it is the noblest and most necessary of all studies. If you neglect this study, you are derelict in your duty to yourself, to God and humanity; for you can render to God and humanity no greater service than to make the most of yourself.”

Today I want to thank the extreme right crazies; those rich, richy Richies who rub our noses in Wall Street bonuses, yachts and conspicuous consumption and assertions of power. You have shown me your hand. My spirit is fired up. I have the strength of determination to get rich and make others rich as well. I will not allow you to force my heart and desire into positions of stinginess. I will actively seek ways to give. I will remain open to opportunity and they will open to me.

There were two young boys in University Foods who were two dollars shy of their purchase. I watched the woman who stood behind them. She surveyed their small bag of groceries: a package of ground beef, an onion, a loaf of bread, one potato and some cookies. Dinner. The older boy calls their mother and asks what should they do? The woman behind them must have decided the boys need not worry or do anything but enjoy the dinner their mother had sent them to buy. She handed them two dollars and alleviated a concern for a family for the low, low price of two dollars. The boys, cute as a button thank her with surprise and gratitude in their eyes. The older boy says, “Never mind, mama. A lady gave us the money.” Her generosity led me to find the woman I help to sponsor that stands and give her a dollar as she stands on the corner of Howard and the northbound Lodge Expressway.

Thank you Governor Rick Snyder, you have awakened me to political activism. Thank you for exposing my desire to be of service, to give the most of myself while I am in this world. Your greed may ship jobs overseas. You may slash the film incentives in Michigan. Your lack of vision may cut education. You may attempt to impoverish the middle class and eliminate our collective bargaining voices in the service of selfish gains. Send in your emergency financial managers to save Detroit while you foreclose and disenfranchise its citizens. But what you may not and cannot do is make me buy the lie or the notion that I am poor or worthless and without opportunities. I’m on my way to The Mo’Nique Show.