I was walking up 38th st. when I saw a homeless man sitting up against a dumpster holding his dog on a leash. He mumbled with a gravely voice as I walked by.
“What?” I asked, not hearing what he had said.
“Be happy. It’s alright.”
“Thanks. I’ll try,” I said as I kept walking.
This got me thinking. Maybe I should be happier. I mean, this guy probably has a hard life and mine’s not so bad. He was pretty insightful and I wondered if maybe I should take what he said to heart.
Then I thought no, he’s just a homeless guy. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.
I’m relieved that I didn’t get a callback. You might think I’m crazy but if I was offered a spot on Harold Night there’s a good chance I’d say, “No thank you.”
Your nose is bleeding.
It’s hard to explain because 99.9% of people would kill to be on a UCB Harold team.* Like, literally kill. If murder was legal so many people would be getting stabbed this week.
But I’m not ready to be on a team. I think I’m a good improviser but I’m not where I want to be. I don’t want to be put on a team prematurely and suck. I’d rather hang back a little longer and take the time to develop as a performer. I’m 22. I’ll be around for a while.
During these types of situations It’s hard to not be jealous of other performers. This is the time of year when people become cynical. Counteract that before its too late. Post about someone on UCB Love. Go watch indie shows you’re not in. I don’t know. Be a good person?
*99.9% of improv people. No one else gives a shit.