I just woke up from a dream in which I was about to do a stand-up comedy routine as a part of what seems to have been some sort of school talent show. Part of my bit was going to be reading from the Sunday funny pages. But just as I was taking the stage, in my green bathrobe no less (and no more), there was a big commotion and a bunch of people rushed the stage. We had a little sing-a-long and I did the can-can before I was able to clear them off to start my bit. But thats when I realized someone had switched out my comics page, and it was no longer the page I had prepared for the bit. I stammered through reading the first few strips, trying to find something funny. Id start reading the comic out loud, narrating the drawing, and then trail off saying, No, thats not funny. My act was bombing but I couldnt help but feel though it wasnt going to plan, it was actually a sort of genius piece of performance art, something sort of in the vein of Andy Kaufman. I smiled and chuckled to myself that at least I was amusing myself, even if no one else got it. I looked up at the crowd and smirked at the sea of confused faces. Thats when my mother, seeing the look of self-satisfaction on my face, despite the lack of crowd appreciation, started cracking up, doubled over, roaring with laughter. Dad was sitting next to her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I woke up smiling, feeling very contented with my efforts in life, if not always my results, and feeling very supported in pursuing those efforts.
Posted on: Wed, 07 Jan 2015 15:12:28 +0000
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