Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Off The Top of My Head

For a good part of my 20s and 30s, I participated in several improv organizations in Chicago. I went through the whole Second City Training Center. I did the ImprovOlympic or IO as it's called now, and even studied with Del Close. And where I'm most proud, my work at the Annoyance.

Now, I have always loved comedy. I grew up imitating Lucille Ball, Lily Tomlin and Carol Burnett. They were my heroes. I loved TV and movies. I was SURE I was going to be an actress. I'd be discovered, and be one of the most hardworking character actresses out there!

I mean, my friends thought I was hilarious. I could make my mom laugh til she cried (and she was a hard audience). I could do voices, I could do characters, I was fearless.... 

... well, unless you were an audience, or a person I thought was funnier than me, or if you were a teacher or improvisor that truly WAS fearless... then I was a puddle of insecurity, and truthfully, not very funny at all. 

It's not that I'm "not funny" but my lil voice of insecurity constantly told me I would never be as good as the others, they were just tolerating me because I was nice, that I didn't have the drive or commitment (that was true)... and when your lil voice repeats it enough, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't horrifically bad, but I wasn't giving myself the freedom to let loose and "do it." I was my own worst enemy. 

Damn that lil voice.

When I performed at IO and with the Annoyance, who would have known that my friends and fellow performers would be like a who's who list these days, in comedy and movies. Some of my best friends from that time are movie & TV actors, directors, writers, producers, published authors. They're "living it" because they were committed. They're making their way because their lil voice, if it was negative, was squelched! Most of them are still friends of mine, although I don't get to see them very often and I live vicariously through them. [Some photos in here from back then]

I would say about 30-40% of those that performed back then, went on to do the work we did in some fashion, for a living. That's amazing percentages for the entertainment industry.

And the ONE thing I know they all had, they knew that's what they were going to do. It wasn't "I want to do this" it was "I am doing this."

My fear of failing never allowed me that conviction. 

I know that all of my experiences in this life have made me the person I am today. The people that have touched my life have helped influence my path. I still  pull words of wisdom from them:

From my friend, Mitch, "Annie, why would you worry about being like everyone else out here, why don't you just be "you" and stand out."

From my friend, James, "I'm not letting you off that stage until you convince me you're comfortable up there. I'm not kidding, you're not leaving til your comfortable." It took 20 mins. The longest 20 mins in my life!

From my friend, Mick, "Fuck it! Seriously, fuck it. Don't think about it, just do it."

From my friend, Matt, "I want you to go out there and be in every scene. I don't mean a main character in every scene, but work your way into every scene." (it was one of my best nights)

There were more, but they are my memories, my lessons, my guidance...and probably boring to a lot of other folks.

By the time I backed off of doing improv or programs at the Annoyance, I was finally secure...somewhat. I had co-written a show with my good friend, Esta-Joy. A musical about a mother/daughter country western group, and their first tour after "Momma" goes in remission... in fact it was called, "The Chiggers: Momma's in Remission Tour." My friend Mark directed, Lisa and Dave worked the music as our musical directors; we had a full band (the Calamine 9, the sons & daughters of our first band, who were killed in a freak RV accident). It was a show that put me front and center. Maybe I wasn't the best improviser or the best singer... but I did that whole show with true conviction, and I was damn proud of it. 

It got selected to go to the Edmonton Comedy Festival. Lily Tomlin came and saw it, and then came backstage to meet us afterward and tell us how much she loved it.

And this triumph gave me the courage to direct a show. My first one being, "He's On To Something," a silly musical with fun dance numbers and wonderful performances. Only to be followed by my attempt to do a dramedy about 3 couples at different states of their relationships, dating and moving in together, newly married and planning a family, and the married couple expecting their first child. (I won an Annoyance "Duckie" award for Best Director for that one!)

My lil voice... was silenced.

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