Bleecker - Does It Get Any?

There are just those days. But they pass. And when they do, you feel better, but you are still one day older and nearer death.

**********

I went to see this one man show tonight at the Bleecker St. Theatre in NOHO called "Sleepwalk with Me." It is a about the life of a comedian who has a sleeping disorder. Mike Birbiglia. I write his name because he told us he has Google Alert for whenever people like me (or the New York Times) write about him. Hey Mike! Good job!

So far, I have found this Google Alert tool sadly unnecessary.

I see stuff because I am on this quest to figure out what I want to do next. What my PURPOSE now is. I await my LUKE USE THE FORCE moment. I have been hanging out for that one since the film was first released.

I have been feeling good lately, but then I hear Mike is 30 years old, has been on Letterman and has his own off-Broadway show and a girlfriend and maybe cats. His banter turns to wah-wah as I realize I have none of these things. NONE. This show is now all about me. And I am forty something with the SOMETHING now glaringly substantial.

I think, "I don't want to have to do stand up on college campuses at my age. I would hate that."

Hopes to be the comedian I never knew I wanted to be are dashed this very night. Who forgot to tell me to pursue this earlier? Huh?!!

Earlier today I had two coffee meetings which one does when one is out of work and the person they are meeting is out of work.

Or else you meet in their office.

Which is not usually Starbucks.

The first was with a former colleague and it was delightful. The second was delightful too, but with a young guy who works in media ad sales and wears a suit and a wedding ring and no wrinkles. I thought I was all digital media savvy until I spoke with this sport. He was aggressive, knowledgeable and on his way to a job interview. I felt this big. He was super nice, but it didn't stop me from thinking, "Why didn't I go into computers like my mom told me to?!" But I quickly knew that I would never have so then it got me thinking "Why didn't I go into dance/writing/television/advertising copy writing/international whatever when I was the age of two 5th graders?!

I go home to do my French homework. I am taking a class taught by an homme who has his whole vie ahead of him. I look at the assignments (which are due tomorrow) and think "Damn, this is a LOT OF HOMEWORK. And it is HARD. QLF?!

Then I think "How OLD are you?" Don't you want to actually learn to speak this language this time and not just survive it? Quel un jerk je suis.

So I did it. And it was half-assed. What, am I going to be a stand up in Paris?

Jamais at this rate.

Dash it all. I am here now. Broken, exhausted, unilingual and unpublished. How can I compete?

My left eye won't close entirely and I can't even play bagpipes. Not even badly.

***************


I have always loved Bleecker Street ever since I was a kid. I love walkng on it to this very day. I remember this song by Paul Simon from when I was very wee:

Bleecker Street (1963) By Paul Simon Fog's rollin' in off the East River bank Like a shroud it covers Bleecker Street Fills the alleys where men sleep Hides the shepherd from the sheep Voices leaking from a sad cafe Smiling faces try to understand I saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand On Bleecker Street The poet reads his crooked rhyme Holy, holy is his sacrament Thirty dollars pays your rent On Bleecker Street I head a church bell softly chime In a melody sustainin' It's a long road to Caanan On Bleecker Street From Wednesday Morning, 3AM (1964) Copyright © E. B. Marks Music Corp. (BMI)

Why didn't I become a modern day troubadour when I had the chance?! Arrggghhhh!