14) Big Dreams in the Big Apple

For several years my parents have been big fans of the show The Marvelous Ms. Maisel. 

Episode after episode they enjoyed watching her perform standup comedy in New York City.

And now my parents had the opportunity to watch their own daughter perform standup comedy in New York.

The things we do for our parents.

I told them they didn’t have to come, especially since it was a Monday night and such a busy time of the year at work. But they insisted. I appreciated their encouragement and support. But I also knew they didn't want me to go to NYC alone. 

I reminded my mom that back in the 90s she sent their teenage son to NYC every day for high school. Every day for four years he took the train, subway, and walked in the city.

When I pressed my mom on this she claimed, “it was different back then.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I didn’t watch the news.”

My parents agreed to pick me up at 4:45 and then head to the train station together.

At 4:25 my doorbell rang.

I opened the door and found my parents standing there suspiciously holding a cooler.

I looked at them, looked at the cooler, looked back at them. 

“Why are you guys here so early?” I asked.

“We wanted to give ourselves time to eat.”

My parents walked a few feet into my living room and both plopped onto the floor.

Had they walked a few feet further they would have entered my kitchen fully equipped with both a table and chairs.

They opened the cooler and pulled out salmon sandwiches. And proceeded to have a picnic on my living room floor.

I stood there watching these two people who brought me into life, enjoying their salmon picnic. And a thought occurred to me.

It’s absolutely amazing with these two as my parents that it took me this long to become a comedian.

I finished getting ready.

This was the biggest week of my comedy career. Not only did I have my first show in the city, I also had my first theater show that weekend.

On the train ride in we FaceTimed my grandma, an avid lover of trains.

“I wish I could be there,” she said.

“You can come on Saturday.”

“I promise.”

“You better.”

“Break a leg,” she told me.

As we neared the city I glanced out the window. The sun began its descent and served as a spotlight on the New York City Skyline.

It was at this very moment I first understood that maybe there is some bigger picture going on. And that there is 100% an afterlife. Because under no normal circumstances would I ever be a standup comedian in New York City. But John was clearly up there making things happen for me. 

This is also the first time I thought maybe there is such a thing as a “bigger plan”, a phrase I’ve heard too many times and strongly dislike. I didn’t necessarily agree with the plan. Had God consulted with me I would have encouraged Him to keep John alive instead. I still don't understand any of it, but at that moment I surrendered and agreed to continue to do whatever I was supposed to be doing. “Just keep leading the way John,” I whispered. 

We arrived at Greenwich Village Comedy Club earlier than I needed to be there. I was extra excited because it was one of those comedy clubs where you have to walk down the stairs to get in. The kind you see on TV. We did a quick photoshoot before heading across the street to a bar. My parents weren’t hungry, Omega-3 is filling like that, but they wanted to get a drink.

We walked down into a bar that was dimly lit and full of New York Charm.

I glanced at the TV and saw one of the coolest omens of all time. 

There on TV was an episode of Seinfeld where he was performing comedy in New York City.

Here I was in New York City, about to perform stand up comedy.

Things had to go well tonight.

I finished my water and jotted through my setlist one last time.

It was time to head over. 

I walked in and saw framed photos of Joan Rivers and Dave Chapelle hanging up.

I set up my tripod, placing it in the perfect position, so I could have my own recording of my first set in NYC.

This was a special night that I would want to remember forever.

“You think you can handle this?” I asked my dad pointing to the tripod. 

My dad rolled his eyes clearly offended.

In the greenroom I was chatting with some of the other comedians. The next thing I knew the door swung open and in walked my mom, tripod in hand.

“Dad wants to know how to work the camera on your phone.”

I quickly showed her and she returned to her seat. 

As we made our way through the lineup, my nerves turned into excitement. 

I was about to take the stage in New York City to perform standup comedy.

The host announced my name and I went up on stage.

For those 7 minutes on stage I felt very much alive. I closed with my last joke of the night and felt the eruption of applause from the audience.

I couldn’t wait to watch the video of my performance.

It would be a keepsake that I would treasure forever.

After the show I immediately found my parents. My dad handed me my phone.

I had to see my video right away.

I opened it and pressed play.

And there it was.

My first ever stand up comedy performance in New York City.

My dad captured this once in a lifetime moment.

But only from the neck down.

After my mom returned from the greenroom with my tripod, whoever put the tripod back down (neither has admitted blame) did not check to make sure the camera’s angle would capture the whole stage.

So in my video of my first NYC performance I am a decapitated comedian. 

Afterwards I chatted with some of the audience. 

Two weeks earlier, after a blissful couple years of no social media, I reactivated my accounts.  And it was at this show I made my first official fan(Joanna you rock!)

We walked out and realized we had a little time before our train.

I glanced at an establishment across the street and said “Hey dad you think we can go in for one?”

My dad rolled his eyes and said, “I guess I'm buying.”

We crossed the street and walked into Insomnia Cookies where both my mom and I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie for the train ride home.

The first thing I did when I sat on the train was text my grandma to let her know how well it went.

As the train pulled out of the station and with a warm cookie in hand, I felt like I was on top of the world.

It was a feeling I wanted to enjoy forever. 

But it only lasted for the next 12 hours. 

Because come morning this feeling would fall down with a thud.