8) Standing in the Spotlight

In the summer of 2021 thousands of athletes from around the globe competed in the Olympics. All of whom put in countless hours of training and practicing all in hopes of achieving their lifelong goal to stand up on the podium, hold their medal, and be the pride of their country. It was their time to shine.

July 28th 2021 was my time to shine.

All the hours spent writing, practicing, rewriting led up to this night.

I wanted to be up on that stage, hold that mic, and make John proud.

On the day of my show I received more heartfelt texts from family and friends than I do on my birthday.

I put on my outfit- my favorite Little Black Dress accompanied by cheetah print Converse sneakers- a nod to an outfit John once infamously wore at a show in LA.

After my pre performance meal, I listened to Eminem’s Lose Yourself reminding myself that success was my only option, failure's not.

I pulled into the parking lot of Scotty's like I had several weeks ago, but this time was different. I was different. 

I looked up at my visor. “Ok John, be up there with me tonight.” I let out a deep exhale. “Let’s do this.”

I was ready.

While I was sitting around with my classmates/fellow comedians, John Lennon’s Stand By Me was playing in the background.  I looked at this group of people who had stood by me since our very first class. I felt immensely grateful for their friendship and support.  We had all grown both individually and as a group.  This night was ours.  

I peeked into the main room and saw about 25 of my closest family and friends.  The very same people who supported me through my grief were now here to support my comedy.

I was not going to disappoint them.

I was called on stage and within the first couple of seconds I got a huge laugh from the audience. 

The feeling of laughter from a sold out audience can only be described as magical.

With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I was thriving off the audience’s energy and continued to deliver.

By the time I put the mic back in the stand I felt like I floated off the stage completely defying all laws of gravity.

After my set Chip asked me, “How do you feel?”

With the biggest smile on my face I replied, “I want to do it again!”

Of course I didn’t mean I wanted to go up again that night(although I would have-I loved it that much).  

For so long all I dreamt of was having one chance to perform stand up comedy for John.

 And I did it.

Now I wanted to continue to perform. This time for me.

Because the truth is, I could have answered Chip’s question ‘how do you feel’ with one word.

JOY.

A feeling that I hadn’t felt since John died. A feeling that I thought I would never feel again.

But comedy brought joy back into my life.

I often think about how different things would have been if I listened to those who had said things like “Get back to normal” or “stick to your routine” or even worse “it’s time to move on”.

If I had listened to them I would have never created my own path into comedy. I gave myself permission to grieve and as a result permission to grow. 

At the end of the show all of the performers were called back on the stage. While each of our names were called, the graduation song played in the background. I felt more pride that night than I did at my high school, college, and grad school graduations combined.

After the show we were able to chat with the fans from the audience.  As I was standing near the stage I saw my cousin’s grandma walking towards me smiling from ear to ear. I smiled ready to hear her praise. 

But she walked right by me and headed for one of the younger comedians whose material was rated R at the minimum. In her words, she “loved how risque he was”.

Many members of the audience did come up to me saying how much they loved me.

But the only validation I needed came at the very end of the night.

My family continued the celebration at their favorite Irish pub. My brother Andrew gave a toast enthusiastically shouting out Comedy Clubs in New York where he thought I should perform one day.  His encouragement to keep going and dream bigger is what I wanted to hear. 

Then when it was time to go home, my brother Richard walked me to my car and said the one thing I needed to hear.

“John would be so proud of you.”