Driving into town for our Comedy Festival show. Feeling energised and enigmatic. Engulfed by introspection. Visited by ghosts of Festival shows past. I've had sixteen years of Town Hall tomfoolery.
Cut-throat comedy in the crucible of critical crowds.
High Stakes hoop hopping. Hoping for hilarity in the heart of the heat.
Comedy comrades who have stood with me in too bright lights on too small stages. Crafting chaos. Molding madness and making mischief.
Year after year we are flung into the fray as festival fodder.
Exposed extroverts with introverted insecurities.
A Cast of Castaways tucked away in alleyways.
Foolhardy Flyerers anxiously approaching a prickly public with a promise of possibilty.
A plethora of producers pushing product, Pinning hopes on pinned up posters. Haunted by the howls of the walking deadlines. Forever slaves to their ticketmaster.
And as the weeks wind their way through our collective calendar we find the streets strewn with crucified clowns. Buried by the burden of an absent audience or a cruel critique. Kind words seem to float like feathers but brutal barbs all weigh a funny tonne.
We screw our courage to the sticking place and celebrate the scattered successes. In darkened rooms we swap war stories of fabulous failures. The crash and burns that light our way.
We tell tales of triumph too. Of underdogs who overcame. Of people full of talent playing to rooms full of people.
Of those well deserving few who get what they deserve.
Driving into town for our Comedy Festival show i remember too the hidden happiness of concealed camaraderie. We present our polished products to the waiting watchers but they will never behold the beauty of the backstage back and forth. The spotlight never shines on the preshow patter that unites us nightly. An unrestrained calvalcade of the high octane and the low brow that brings us onto the same page before we step onto the same stage.
Amidst all the moments that seem perishable, these moments are cherishable.
Every year this drive feels more exciting. And every year the excitement seems more infused with nostalgia. As if I’m already looking forward to looking back.