Running around, Folks.
It's been a busy couple of days.
I shot a scene on Friday and then performed at The Vogue Theater in Vancouver. The place was sold out. I wasn’t nervous but I was dubious. It had been weeks since I did the full set. I don’t know what it is about me but I no longer take into consideration how long I’ve done this. If I get away from it even for a week or two I think it’s all going to go away.
There’s a pretty fine line between talking funny and just talking. It’s a slight emotional adjustment. It’s a muscle. I feel like if I don’t keep it taut what I'm saying will just come out sad.
I underestimate myself. I’ve been doing this for more than half my life. A lot. Like, all the time.
I really get myself worked up. It really isn’t nervousness though. I have no fear of being on stage. Especially for my audience. It’s really just a fear that whatever vulnerability I access could turn on me and I will fall into myself on stage.
Charlie Demers opened for me. He opens for me all the time in Vancouver. After the show he brought something up. He said that it’s kind of amazing the trust I’ve built up with my audience. It goes both ways. He said it enables me to go places that are personal and challenging and make them funny. I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like that. I had never really thought about that. It’s true. I’ll put it out there. All of it.
My dynamic with my live audience is one of the most trusting relationships I have. Not unlike my personal relationships there’s always a little part of me that doesn’t trust the trust and kind of wants to push the limits of it. I guess that’s sort of what I do. Exciting. Dangerous. My little world of show business.
That’s why doing short sets on showcase shows with a broad audience is so important. It works that muscle. I don’t really trust those crowds but I have to put it out there and make it funny without the depth or risk I engage in with my audience. Keeps me armored and a little defensive. That’s the workout.
The audience at the Vogue was perfect. Polite, grown up, not necessarily knowing exactly what to expect but knowing me. It was a great show.
I flew down to Seattle the next day. I love the Pacific Northwest. I used to love Seattle. It always had a darkness to it but I found it kind of enchanting in its weird grittiness. Coming down to the Seattle Pac Northwest from the Vancouver Pac Northwest was jarring. The grittiness has gotten rough and menacing. The aggression and desperation in some areas was frenetic and very dark. It exists in most big cities but the contrast is mind-blowing. It feels out of control and sad and scary here. In Canada it seems sad but the people seem decent. I’m not sure how to gauge the decency here in the U.S. anymore. Or if it even exists on a large scale.
The Moore Theater was packed in Seattle and the show was great. I was warmed up from the night before and I did like an hour-forty. The crowd was awesome. When things are bad here in the States the shows seem necessary. My audiences are mostly grown up, decent people who are like-minded. It feels like a reprieve. Some kind of dark, relatively safe space to get some deeply needed laughs as we try to navigate a failing civilization.
Glad to help out.
Today I have an amazing, engaged talk with Jewel. Really good. Thursday I have a hilarious riff chat with comedian Gareth Reynolds. Good week.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
