I left T-Mobile over two years ago.  Apparently when I did, I overpaid my balance by 1 cent.  A penny.  So every month for the past 26 months, they send me a reminder that I have a cent credit just waiting to be used.  26 notices lovingly delivered to me for the low cost of 44 cents a stamp.  I figure adding in printing and supplies, they have spent 15 dollars alerting me of my good fortune.  T-Mobile’s corporate values hierarchy apparently reads as follows:

1.  Honesty

2.  The Environment

3.  Good Business Sense

4.  Feeding That Gangly Spokeswoman

I don’t take this as some grand metaphor for corporate ineptitude.  It’s an extremely minor issue, and T-Mobile has bigger problems…namely, “how the FUCK do we get that FUCKING iPhone?”  But, like an ex-girlfriend who casually emails to say she found your Stone Temple Pilots cd (I’m very obviously in my 30’s), there seems to be an ulterior motive.  So let me say this:  if you want me back, T-Mobile, just say so.  There’s no point wasting money being coy.  Put that cash towards something useful.  Like a cheeseburger for your spokeswoman. 

Someday my roast will come.

1.  Have A Partner - After my grandmother would finish a bit, she’d pitch to my unwitting grandfather with a “right Van?”  Never looking up from the paper, he’d grumble out a “sure.”  It was the perfect button.  Over sixty years of marriage, they developed impeccable timing.   

2.  Embrace The Non Sequitur - We were having brunch before I moved to Germany.  During a lull in the conversation, my grandmother said, “Be sure to freeze some of this pumpkin soup into cubes and take it with you.  You never know when you’ll get locked in an attic.”  Then she went right back to her coffee.

3.  Don’t Shy Away From Racier Material - See above.  It’s a non sequitur and Holocaust joke all rolled into one.

4.  Don’t Get Distracted While Performing - One Thanksgiving, she loudly farted mid-story and kept right on talking without missing a beat.  Pure brilliance.

4.  Be The Character The Audience Has Grown To Love - Was she a bit odd?  Sure.  Did she play it up when others were around?  You bet. 

5.  Find Humor In The Pain - She came from a big family without much money and had a bigger family with even less money.  She could have been miserable.  Instead she was weird and wonderful.  Maybe it was just a mask she wore to protect us.  But that leads to the most important lesson:

6.  Respect Your Audience - Their lives are hard, too.  They came to be entertained…so do your best to entertain them. 

RIP, Grandma.  I love you.

A mime joke AND a Chuck Norris reference?  Oh my, ERA, aren’t we the detergent of 2006.

Pro: “Born gay?  You don’t have to stay that way!”

Con:  (Results not guaranteed)

Painful Insight:  If only I could keep this fake smile forever, no one would know that I hate myself.

After another night of dying on stage this past Tuesday, it dawned on me that as long as I continue to do comedy, I will continue to bomb.  Granted, it’s less frequent…but it will never go away completely. 

Bombing is like a bad one night stand:  both parties enter the endeavor with the best of intentions, but somewhere along the line everything just goes to shit.  Whether in bed or on stage, here’s what I recommend when you start to smell death.

1.  Try something new - If you’re going down, you might as well learn something in the process.

On Stage - I will try my new Russian Fish and Game Warden Character, thank you very much.

In Bed - Thinking you might like a toe in your butthole?  No day like today.

2.  Focus on you - Hey, it’s your time, too.  Make sure you get something out of it.

On Stage - Screw you, audience.  I like doing scenes about how the seeds of the Iraq war were sown in the 50’s when, on the behest of the British Prime Minister, Eisenhower declared Iran a communist country.

In Bed - Jerk off.  Use that special “tug the balls” trick you like.

3.  Savor it - Pain sucks, but it’s better than not being able to experience pain at all.

On stage - Stop talking.  Look out.  Let the silence and awkwardness lap over you like the heavy, pained sighs of your disappointed parents.

In Bed - You’ve heard of S&M, right?  If you’re already feeling bad emotionally, you might as well tack on some physical pain, too.

4.  Change their expectations- If they aren’t getting what they came for, give them something else to remember.

On Stage - “No, it wasn’t funny.  But I did learn something about the geopolitics of 1950’s Iran.”

In Bed - Yeah, orgasms are great…but no one forgets someone who steals their toiletries.

5.  Fuck ‘em - Lie and pretend that you don’t care that they aren’t laughing/cumming.

On Stage - “Sure laughs are nice…but I really do this to expand the art of improvisation.”

In Bed - Keep in mind, up until 2007, no one even knew that women could have orgasms.

Pro:  “I can get you low financing on a Mercury Mystique…”

Con: “…as long as you can get me your niece’s phone number.”

Wardrobe Provided By:  H&M Clothiers

Hair Provided By:  Maybe This’ll Look Hip? Salons

Pro:  Perfect for fans of both gray and deep inner sadness

Con:  Adding middle initial failed to offset ridiculousness of “Sornberger”

Evolutionary Significance:  Earliest photographic evidence of the The Vneck Explosion

The easier travel becomes, the less interesting it will be if they find life on other planets.  Discovering bacteria in the methane seas of Saturn will be no more impressive than finding it in Medina, Ohio:  I might not want to live there, but I’m sure something can happily adapt to that environment. 

Last week, a friend of mine was astonished to realize that I make no money improvising, a pursuit that has consumed the last third of my life.  It got me thinking:  just how stupid of a career choice have I made?  Would it, in fact, have been more beneficial to have dedicated the last 12 years of my life to being a user and seller of methamphetamines?  Let’s examine.

1.  Money – Clearly meth dealers make more money than improvisers.  Even dealers who also use at worst end up making no money (for health effects, see 9) And their path to poverty did not involve having to do a scene as a giant, talking donut.  Winner:  Meth.

2.  Job Satisfaction - Improv is intended for the benefit of the audience, but often only results in the benefit of the doer.  Meth holds no pretense:  it’s fully aware that only the user enjoys it.  Winner:  Meth.

3.  Career Advancement -  As stated, actors don’t improvise for money.  They often improvise for the chance of booking a paying gig.  TV work, for example.  While meth users do not hope for TV exposure, their chances of some post-arrest footage is at least as likely as the average improviser ever booking anything.  Winner:  Draw.

4.  Start-up Costs - You don’t have to spend between $1,500-$20,000 learning to do different styles of meth.  Winner:  Meth.

5.  Career Longevity - Meth is a young, white man’s drug.  Improvisation is a young, white man’s artform.  Those who hang around too long in either endeavor are terrifying and look like death.  Winner: Draw.

6.  Coworker Personalities - Meth users just want to use meth, not analyze it.  They don’t talk about how, back in Chicago, “people really knew how to slowly and organically cook some crank.”  Winner:  Meth.

7.  Spouse Potential - There are at least as many attractive meth users as there are attractive improvisers.  And meth users are thinner.  Winner:  Meth.

8.  Health Effects – Meth can lead to tooth loss, anxiety, psychosis and death.  Improv can lead to sleep deprivation, anxiety, alcoholism, and awkward sexual encounters.  Winner:  Improv.  Barely.

9.  Location – The improv epicenters are Chicago, New York and Los Angeles.  You can do meth in a dumpster in Chickasaw, Alabama with no net loss of enjoyment.  Winner:  Meth.

10.  Peer Interest - A Facebook invite saying, “Come watch my Level V How to Freebase Crystal class show!” will not be disdainfully ignored.  Winner:  Meth

In a landslide, Meth Use/Dealing beats Improvisation 7-1.  And my mother might be more proud were I a dealer:  at least I would be using all of those chemistry classes I took in college.