If you aren’t madly driven by something like this, then none of that makes sense. “Civilians” don’t get it, because why would they? Comedy wasn’t part of the package when I built my friendships over decades. It wasn’t here for the first half of my marriage. Now it’s here in a big, obtrusive way, and nobody else in my life signed up for it. I just kind of dropped it in their laps. This is me now. I’ve decided to dive into this. It’s happening!

Here’s how my obsession started:

Six years ago, I was just a husband and father of a young family. Heading to work at the big box store that still employs me. Feeling generally discontent, but not knowing what to do about it. I felt stuck, to be honest. Is this it? Do I just do this until I die or retire? Again, I’m very grateful for my family and a reliable job, but some part of me craved more. I wasn’t happy.

At the time I had a friend who was into improv. Other than some “Whose Line” episodes, I knew nothing about it. I attended a show and was drawn to the creativity and the enthusiasm. Even then, I saw that anything I could take away from this would help with stand up someday, although I had no idea how one started stand up. I started volunteering with the troupe, then taking classes. Between my first two “levels”, the great Kevin McDonald came in to teach a sketch comedy workshop. I didn’t feel ready for any of it, but didn’t want to let the chance to work with him slip away. That night I got to do a show with him. I was awful, but still got laughs when I was supposed to.

And that...felt….amazing….

I got more involved. Started writing sketches for the troupe. I was encouraged to audition a couple of months later. Encouraged by many, but not by my wife. She was very worried about how this was going to go. I was already disappearing a handful of nights every month.

“What will happen if you join the cast? I know you. You won’t be able to say no to whatever they want from you. I don’t want to lose you to this.”

I told her not to worry. That I probably wouldn’t make the cut anyway, and that even if I did, that I would keep it all manageable. I had to chase this new feeling.

I did make the cut. I did join the cast. I did not keep it manageable. But that was everyone else’s problem. I was hooked. Whatever blurry stand up goals I may have had were shoved aside as I fell in love with improv and sketch.

But things got worse when my troupe ran a workshop for the local stand up comics. At that point I didn’t even know Red Deer HAD local stand up comics. There was a mic after our workshop, so I decided that I had to try. It only went as well as anyone else’s first set, but as we left that night, my troupe’s artistic director said, “you looked really natural up there. In a way I’ve never seen in your improv.”

Great. Now I’m hooked on improv, sketch AND stand up. I was a junkie who kept piling on more substances.

But for awhile, things were okay. Ish. Improv was part time (I was on a trainee team), and I only hit mics once every month or two at the most. My home and social lives were only mildly impacted (I thought), but I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted to get better faster. To soak up all that I could. I started shoe-horning my comedy into any conversation that I was in. I felt different now. Special. I’m doing amazing things and I need everyone to know all about it.

Then about three years ago, my troupe was promoted to main stage, while stand up got harder to ignore. I tried to justify my choices. “I’m only doing a couple of sets a month! Maybe four at the most. That’s still super casual.” But I was busy ten to twelve nights a month with improv too. Sometimes I’d be gone five nights in a week. And of course, when I was home, I was burned out. I didn’t want to engage with any real life problems. I didn’t have the mental RAM available for any of that. All my focus, my energy, and my attention was tied up.

A lot of people in my life were affected, but they dealt with it. They knew I loved what I was doing. But just one of the many reasons I love my wife is that she’s not afraid to tell me how she’s feeling and when I need to be called out for my bullshit. She was miserable. She knew that our kids and our marriage were running a distant second to comedy. Things were getting bad. Possible divorce bad.