Weirder and Weirder Still

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• October 1, 2024

Last year, I self produced a comedy album/special at Smodcastle Cinemas. The album itself has been in the rotation at SiriusXM for almost a year, and was briefly #1 on iTunes (or whatever it’s called now). The video took longer to edit (naturally) and it had been my hopes to sell it to a major platform to give my career a resurrecting jolt. I tried shopping it, but the industry treated me as it usually does, with a cold indifference. Nowadays, the quality of content isn’t nearly as important as the quantity of your followers and I made the devastating career choice to work hard on my craft instead of my social media following.

I could have sold it to a disturber and got it on Amazon and AppleTV, but I would have signed away the rights and I didn’t think the money in the long term was worth the rights of my material, which may or may not have been a good decision considering how broke I am. So I decided, like many comedians, to release it on YouTube for free.

Years ago, when I was only like three years into comedy, I did a ComedyTime TV taping. The set still lives on the internet, which I WISH I could take down because it’s horrendous to me now. But I don’t own it. Oh well. We all learn lessons the hard way, I guess.

Admittedly, I was nervous and reluctant to release my special on YouTube. Not because it’s bad. I am proud of it. It’s a decade of being a comedian, and I think it’s pretty good. It’s not the best comedy special you’ll ever see, certainly, but there are a number of comedy specials on Netflix that make you wonder if the industry in charge of comedy understands jokes at all. My trepidation came from the fear that I’d get very few views and feel like a total failure.

Plenty of great comedians, and even some of my dear friends, have released YouTube specials and get well over 100,000 views and counting. I feared my special, with my lack of intuition for self promotion, would “flop.”

After two weeks, I’m almost at 14,000 views, which in the grand scheme of things this is very little, and the industry won’t bat an eye at a comedy special that’s under a half a million views, but it’s not nothing. In fact, it’s off to a better start than I thought it would (ever the optimist, I am). I am certainly thankful for my friends in the industry who have helped me plug it and I will certainly hold a grudge till my last breath to those who ignored my request, as if hitting “share” was some big favor (haha, this may seem petty but it’s also good to know who your true friends are).

Professionally and mentally, I’ve had a struggling year since I lost my main writing job to AI. Depression, my not so unfamiliar friend, had returned with a deafening sound of my worthlessness. Additionally, stand up gigs have been very slow, and writing jobs are few, which I apply to anyway, while haplessly revising a screenplay I’m sick of.

The pandemic really hurt a lot of performers (not just comedians but musicians too). Those who already had hot careers seemed to pick off where they left off. The rest of watched rooms we worked in close, money get lower, hotel rooms slashed. The already tough business got tougher. I’ve spent most of the year figuring my stand up career has been coming to a painful halt. I’m not honing material at the rate I once was since I’m working half as much (at best). Furthermore, I turn down a lot of shit gigs. For a decade, I’d take any gig that came my way. I’ve driven hours for no money. Awful bar shows, or shitty club owners who were creeps— the list of brutal gigs I’ve done is longer than the prized gigs. Comedians like Colin Quinn, Jim Norton, Nick Griffin would help keep me in the game by having me open for them, reminding me how rewarding comedy could be when it’s fun and you’re both artistically satisfied and making money.

I had decided that I would only take gigs that offered me artist integrity and/or money. Some gigs you do for the love of the art and to grow as a comedian that don’t pay (and you often lose money from commuting there and tipping your bartender). Other gigs, like casino gigs, don’t exactly allow you to play on stage and grow as an artist, but they pay the bills. Ideally, you will get paid for shows you love doing, but I’m happy and willing to sacrifice one for the other. However, I am no longer willing to do shit shows for no money, as I leave the gig mentally miserable, questioning all my life decisions.

So. I had been toying with the idea of “retiring” from stand up after my special release, as I have been fiercely discouraged. Though heartbreaking, as killing a dream leaves you grief stricken, it has seemed as though, perhaps, I was not one of the lucky ones. Was it time to move on? Were these dreams childish? I suppose all dreams are childish to some degree, but that’s what makes them special.

To be clear, I have never considered quitting being a writer. It is my calling and my identity. Before I ever thought of stepping on a stage, I dreamed of being a novelist. Being a writer is who I am. And I’ve always considered myself a writer before a performer. Ultimately, I just want to be happy. I wondered if I would be happier focusing on scripts and books and leaving the spotlight to those the spotlight favored.

Dreams, I think, don’t have happily ever afters. You just live them for a little while and then they end or change. Sure, I could be sour how things are turning out, but don’t mistake me for ungrateful. I have lived my dream to some degree, at highlights of my life. I do wish I enjoyed them a little more, instead of worrying so much. But being a worrier is as much of who I am as being a writer. I think most writers are worriers, as we are over thinkers. It’s also why many writers are alcoholics. We like breaks from our brains sometimes.

Alas. The feedback for my special has been so positive. Not solely from people I know, who likely would have supported me if I put out something barely mediocre, but from strangers. Now I’m rethinking things at this crossroads in my life. The title for my special, “Weird Enough,” was inspired by the Hunter S. Thompson quote, “too weird to live, too rare to die.” But, truthfully, all the new stuff I want to bring to the stage is weirder and weirder still. Darker. At times, more sexual (though I’ll never be one of those female comics who talks about her pussy for a 30 minutes). The problem with this, is, unless it’s a good room with an audience that is comedy savvy, I’m too weird for the crowd.

Bookers don’t like low energy comics. Which I am. They much prefer the high energy comics. I’m not knocking high energy comedians— some of them are hilarious. But loud does not equal funny. Just as humping a bar stool isn’t “edgy,” it’s just fucking stupid. My favorite comedians are tight joke tellers, and that’s what I’ve always strived to be. New York, once a glimmering city, has become a place full of heartache on every corner for me. Professional and personal. Rejection is quite literally the name of the game for anyone who goes into the arts. It takes it’s toll. There are, though, goals I’d still like to accomplish with stand up.

The support and praise from friends and fans alike for “Weird Enough” reminds me that I still have fire in me. This journey is full of lots of highs and low, and I truly have no idea where it’s going or even how I’m going to make money next year, but jesters are foolish. I’ll continue to be the fool. Fighting for my own happiness, and trying to make others smile in the process.

Thanks everyone who has watched “Weird Enough.” With any luck, hard work, and some hopeless hope, it won’t be my last comedy special.

xxoo

Share, like, subscribe to Weird Enough here.