Praising Failure

I was talking to Phil, my roommate, about Patrice O’Neal this morning.

For those who don’t know, Patrice O’Neal was a stand up comedian who passed away in 2011. He was, in my opinion, one of the best stand up comedians to ever do it, not just in his material, but his candor, his gregariousness, and the honor that he displayed on and off stage.

It is that honor, that truth, that I want to emulate whenever I do anything in life. A lot of people said he was an asshole, and if you read some accounts, it seemed he was, but a lot of that is surface. If you got past it, there was a thoughtful man who really cared about the people he was around.

Even with what he did, there was always truth associated with it. That’s why it stung people so much. For those who could take it, they would have died for him. For those who he hurt, they hated him.

Which brings me back to Phil, we were walking to the train, and discussing comedy, as Patrice was brought up. He was talking to a comedian that had been around a long time, and he asked the comedian who was the biggest jerk to ever work in the club, and to him it was Patrice.

Now this comic isn’t quite good. He hangs around The Comic Strip, he gets up, and he is a bit of an institution there, but when you watch him – you can see it is an olive branch extended by the club, they allow him to work for the loyalty.

Patrice more than likely told him that. It hurt. It festered. And he reminded him of his own failures. He apparently rejoiced in telling a story about Patrice bombing, running over the light, and getting banned.

It made him happy, but even when Phil told me that it was obvious that the comic in question was pained that Patrice was welcomed back even when he pulled a stunt that would have resulted in a lifetime ban.

Truth hurts. Realizing that you are in a class behind, hurts. Learning that the rules are different if you are good enough…hurts. Show business hurts.

It left him bitter. He praised his death.

I hope I never end up like that. I could never be happy at a death of someone, especially if he had a family. I think of that comic, and how much hate he had in his heart for someone who from what I gathered, only remembered him when he was in the same room.

I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want this business to strip my humanity and turn me into someone who gets a kick out of peoples failures.

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It is raining, and I was supposed to wear a suit today. Who knew? I have a suit that is ready to go, and I didn’t even bother to think to wear it.

16/8 Completed
3 Good Things.
Todo Done
Reminders Done
Water not