Show Notes #2,347

Got in a fight with the audience tonight.

Not a literal fight. Just a push-and-pull-back-and-forth-all-out-brawl for control of the room.

The crowd was split into sections - like cliques in a high school cafeteria.

There were the drunks. Unruly and loud, unfocused and proud. You just ignore the drunks.

There were the coworkers. A tight-knit group, out for their first work event together. It takes effort but with a little finesse the coworkers can be pulled apart for an hour or so.

The couples were there, on first or second dates, resting their high hopes for a good night out squarely on my shoulders.

And how could I forget the newbies? The noobs have never been to the theater before. They don’t know they’re supposed to turn their phones off. They don’t know when to be quiet and when to react. They don’t know how to behave, so you have to teach them.

Things happened tonight that have never happened before. I have a Plan A, B, and C for the most likely scenarios but I’m pretty sure we made it to X, Y, and Z before coming back to the beginning. As Murphy said, “anything that can go wrong will go wrong” - I just didn’t realize he was specifically talking about tonight.

I guess things didn’t go wrong - they were just different. When you get in a fight with the audience you have to pull out all the stops.

You duck. You weave. You dance around the ring, slowly closing in on the ultimate goal. You keep the drunks at arm’s length while simultaneously connecting with the newbies. You split up the coworkers and smile at the couples.

A well-crafted joke is a punch to the gut; a dramatic moment hits them like an uppercut. It’s an unending barrage of every trick in the book, but you still have to act as if everything is going according to plan.

And maybe it was. After all, by the time it was all over I was still standing.

And so was everyone else. A room of strangers, briefly unified in applause and mystery.

Got in a fight with the audience tonight. Went the distance and I won.

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Photo: Sarah Elizabeth Larson Photography

More Mystery

Sometime last year I realized that something major was missing from my life. There was no mystery any more. I wanted to change that.

It all started with my phone.

I use my phone too much. Over the past decade it just became a way of life. I was always on my phone: early mornings at the airport, waiting backstage at a show, riding the train, walking to the gym.

“My name is Mark and I’m addicted to my phone.”

Well, I was addicted to my phone - but not anymore. I made steps to change that, all in an effort to add more mystery back into my life. I went from being on my phone around 4 HOURS A DAY to between 30 and 60 minutes every day for the past few months.

You might think I’m being over-dramatic here so do me a favor. Check your screen time right now. Chances are the number is pretty high. Don’t panic, it’s the culture we live in. But you can make changes to improve the relationship you have with your device(s).

Want to break your phone addiction, too? Here’s how I did it:

• I read a few great books on phone use, including this one. It’s full of useful ideas on how to limit your phone use and make more time for the things you love.

• I stopped going on social media. Honestly, I despise it and had for years. I only kept using it because I thought I needed it to become a successful entertainer. The second I deleted Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and Instagram from my phone a huge weight was lifted. Not convinced? Read this book and try a week without social media for yourself.

• I took Safari off my phone, too. The temptation to go to a web version of social media or mindlessly scroll the latest news stories was too great, so I removed that variable.

• I changed where I charge my phone so that it wasn’t always within reach. When I’m home I try to leave it charging in the other room so my first impulse isn’t to grab my phone when I have down time.

• I tried some other things, too, like changing my colors to greyscale or setting timers on social media. But those are too easy to bypass and I wanted to permanently alter my habits. Those methods might help you, though, so check out some more ideas here.

• I’m almost always on Do Not Disturb mode. I only allow certain people to call me but keep my notifications off unless I’m on the road.

The first week of breaking your phone addiction is very weird. Out of habit, you take your phone out and go to open one of the most addictive apps. Then you realize they aren’t there, swipe around a few times and put your phone away.

After that, you’ll find yourself wondering how you’re going to fill the time. Everywhere you look you’ll see people on their phones, just constantly scrolling and double-tapping and clicking. It’s eye-opening.

Turns out, after a few weeks of limited phone use you start to crave other things.

I’ve been reading and running and writing more. Stephanie and I have been seeing more theatre lately. We saw a stunning production of Hamlet last week and an incredible concert a few days before. And, I didn’t need to tweet about it or watch it happen through my phone. It lives on in my memory, two of my favorite evenings in Chicago with my beautiful wife.

So, what does this have to do with mystery?

Well, breaking up with my phone made me realize how much mystery I was missing out on in my daily routine.

I was constantly able to have any information at a moment’s notice, with no regard for how incredible that information truly was. I could literally ask my phone for any answer and have it within seconds. That’s crazy! And absolutely unnecessary.

Deleting social media meant I wasn’t aware of the latest updates my friends were sharing. Their recent adventures were a mystery to me. Now when we get together, conversation is suddenly lively and fun again.

This personal realization about how social media was affecting me sent me down a wormhole in search of as much mystery as possible.

I’ve stopped Shazam-ing (new word I just made up) songs I didn’t know, just so I could force myself to be content not knowing what the song was.

I’ve stopped using GPS in the city when I’m headed to a new location. I’ll memorize the route before I leave home and if I get lost I just ask for directions. When people are given the chance to help you, they light up! We’ve forgotten how great it feels to do something nice for another person.

I stopped reading reviews. We wander into restaurants or shows now, without knowing what to expect. It’s marvelous.

We took a chance on a movie a few months ago without reading about it beforehand. And we ended up having an incredible night! Out of curiosity I looked up the Rotten Tomatoes score when we got home. I was shocked to learn that it was only 55%. I’m glad I didn’t know, because we probably wouldn’t have gone at all and would have missed one of the most fun date nights we’ve had in the past several years.

One night Stephie and I were sitting on the couch making each other laugh and suddenly found ourselves unable to remember a tagline from an old inside joke. We refused to Google it and sat there laughing, trying as hard as we could to remember. After 15 minutes, we looked at each other and said the phrase in unison. We laughed so hard we cried.

It takes time to adjust but not knowing is my favorite feeling in the world. It lets me appreciate the time I have now and the people I’m spending it with. It lets me focus on what matters most because I have no idea what comes next. And guess what? I don’t want to know.

I’m tired of having all the answers. I want more mystery.

Where I've Been

It’s been about 4 months since my last Thursday Thoughts post, but I’m back!

Honestly, I needed a break. Writing each week was starting to feel like a chore. I was burnt out and overworked. And I didn’t feel inspired like I want to be. But, I've been missing posting these and, deep down, I knew it was only a matter of time before I couldn't resist getting back on the grind.

So, here’s what I’ve been up to:

• I’ve been getting closer to my 10,000 hours - 10 minutes at a time. I have a super-focused approach to improving my script, performance, and creative ideas. (If there’s enough interest, I could turn that into a future post.)

• I was invited to perform at the Orlando Fringe Winter Mini Fest back in January. Both of my shows had packed houses and I even won a small award at the end of the weekend. (I won 12 awards at 12 festivals in just under 2 years, but it’ll probably be my last fringe festival for a while. It’s been a fun ride, I just need to focus on some other projects for a while.)

• I did a show in Dubai. It was my first time in the Middle East, but I made the most of it. I saw the Burj Khalifa, the Palm Jumeirah Island, Atlantis, the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah, the Dubai Mall, visited a mosque, and did nothing but eat amazing food. I can’t wait to go back.

• I just did a couple TV spots for Windy City Live and Good Day Chicago. Check out the WCL clip below!

• I was also on the Bill & Wendy Show on WGN Radio. It was super fun!

• After MIND READER won a Chicago Theatre Award last year, the Chicago Magic Lounge asked me to be their artist-in-residence this summer. The show just started this month and I’ll be performing there every Wednesday through the end of June. (Get your tickets here.)

Photo by Trainman Photography

• Also, I just announced my other show dates through the end of the summer. I’ll be performing six shows a week for six weeks at Liberty Magic in Pittsburgh, PA. (Tickets available here.)

• I haven’t really been going on social media much. Chances are you probably clicked this link on facebook or twitter, but that’s only because it automatically posts to those networks for me. I’m not going to see or respond to your comments there, so if you have something to say please comment below this post or send me an e-mail.

• I’ve been taking time for myself. To get through the miserable Chicago winter I’ve been running and working out more. I ran the Shamrock Shuffle 8K last month and am working towards a 10K next month. I took some trips to Los Angeles, San Diego, and Las Vegas. And, I just finished the second season of The OA in time for the NBA Playoffs to start.

• Finally, I’ve been searching for more mystery. More on that next week.

It’s great to be back. See you in my audience soon?

Grateful

Two years ago my life was in chaos.

I returned from an out-of-state funeral to find our apartment had flooded. Water was everywhere, destroying a rug, sofa, and the wood floor. It took over a year to get someone out to finally replace it.

Last fall, renovations were just beginning. We moved all of the furniture into one room so the floor could be stripped and replaced. In the middle of it all, I was putting together a tour.

It was a challenging and frustrating time. It’s never fun to deal with contractors or file insurance claims or coordinate with a condo association, and we were doing it every single day for over a year. Plus, I was trying to work on my new show.

I always like to storyboard my act out so I have a visual idea of what to expect. So imagine me crammed into a small section of the bedroom, sandwiched between the dresser and sofa, affixing post-it notes to a large poster board while workers pried up floorboards in the adjoining room. That was the only way I could work.

My storyboard is simple - larger notes represent specific parts of the shows (one color for Mind Reading, one color for Monologues) and smaller notes represent moments (Music Cues, Jokes, Storytelling devices, etc.). It always takes a while to get the layout started but once it falls into place I have a colorful, concise outline of what I want to put onstage.

As furniture moved from room to room, the storyboard got lost in the shuffle. I told myself I’d get back to it after the floor was finished. There were more pressing things to worry about, so my show was quickly misplaced and forgotten.

It’s very easy to put my creative projects on hold. I promise myself I’ll “start that tomorrow” even though I usually end up being too busy to ever begin. The realities of being an adult are often all-consuming. All of my artistic endeavors often get pushed off to one side so I can complete other tasks. Sometimes you can mentally multi-task and other times your ideas get lost in the shuffle so you can finally have your apartment back together.

Last week I was rearranging my home office and there, inside an art portfolio, behind some other projects, was that original storyboard. The post-its were faded but the ideas were still there. Columns of concepts, still intact, waiting to be lifted off the page.

I sighed, frustrated by the thought of another delayed endeavor. Then it hit me:

That storyboard was the making of this year’s show. I had actually accomplished everything without even realizing it. In the midst of the chaos, I had somehow managed to finish everything on the board. There are only a few, minor changes but what I’d hoped to be doing last fall is the show I travelled with this year.

I’m always happiest when I’m fully immersed in a creative project. Head down, writing and researching - even if I’m surrounded by all of the furniture I own and there are workers pounding away in the other room - that’s how I love to spend my time.

At the time it seemed like the home projects were overshadowing my creative exploits, but now I realize it was actually the opposite. I was actually trying to create and write and dream and perform to move through the chaos and have something to work towards. It just took me until now to realize that the chaos of the past couple years was actually the start of my 2018 Chicago Theatre award-winning show.

Sometimes it takes a long time to realize that you’re doing the things you once dreamt of doing. Sometimes it takes a while to understand that you’re exactly where you need to be. Sometimes it’s a year and sometimes it’s even longer.

Give thanks today for how far you’ve come and what you did to get here. Be grateful for those that helped and the ones that made you stronger by standing in your way.

I’m thankful for finding ways to deal with the chaos and knowing that someday, somehow I’ll end up making sense of it all.

I hope you do, too.

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As always, I’m going to take a break from Thursday Thoughts while my travel schedule picks up over the holidays. Thanks for reading and see you in 2019.

Too Close To Home

On three separate occasions I’ve been in an airport on the same day as a shooting that occurred there. I’ve also performed in locations that had an active gunman later that day or the next. My wife once performed at Pulse Nightclub, which later became the scene of one of the worst mass shootings in American history.

Recently we were at the movies and another patron stood up and loudly started running towards the exit. My first instinct was to duck for cover.

This is the new normal.

I live in fear that my next trip might be to the scene of our next mass shooting. Crowded spaces seem terrifying now and, perhaps worst of all, even people in a darkened theater - a place designed for escape and entertainment - have to be on high alert.

I don’t know what the solution is, but I am so tired. Every day or so I read about another act of gun violence in another corner of the U.S. and it’s exhausting. I wasn’t designed to experience so much pain.

The emotional weight of these tragedies is too much to bear. They’ve directly affected close friends, communities where I’ve lived, and places I’ve been. Something has to be done.

I met someone on tour this summer who told me that “voting is selfish” and they “always vote for what’s best for me”. Well, I selfishly think everyone deserves a chance to see another day and feel safe wherever they go - myself included. I don’t know about you but that’s the world I want to live in.

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For ways you can make a difference, check out Everytown For Gun Safety.

Focus

Recently someone called to book me for a really cool event. It sounded like a fun conference for the kind of people who enjoy my show and I was available. But I turned it down.

They didn't have the right stage and the venue didn't work well with my requirements. I always make sure my sound, lighting, staging, and scheduling fits in with what I do. And if I can't make it happen I always try to recommend someone who can. It’s far easier to point the organizer in a better direction than try to alter what I do to fit their event.

I turn down a lot of gigs. If it doesn't fit my act, I really don't want to do it. I don't want to give people a sub-par performance. I want to do the types of events that allow me to give the best performance possible. Plus, eliminating events that stress me out has really improved my mental health.

In the past few years I've been struggling with extreme anxiety and depression. Dealing with difficult clients and unsatisfactory gigs has only made it worse. I care so deeply about giving people a memorable experience that I end up having a panic attack whenever anything goes wrong.

Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, my heart and mind racing because of something small that happened during a recent show. When there are too many variables out of my control, I know it's going to affect me in negative ways.

So I've been removing those variables. I’ve been screening my gigs more thoroughly and only taking the ones that won't make me anxious.

I hate giving advice, but here's what I've learned: You don’t have to be everything at once for all people everywhere. Find your niche and focus your efforts on doing whatever that might be. Saying “no” to stuff that makes you unhappy will always end up making you happier in the long run.

What's Next?

When I first moved to Chicago in 2011 I didn’t know anyone here. I spent the first year struggling to get my name out there and find gigs. It was a year of trial and error, with way more failures than successes.

For some reason, that autumn I decided to put together a run of shows at a small theatre near my apartment. I would be self-producing and performing four shows over four weeks. I spent hours canvassing the surrounding neighborhoods with posters and flyers, inviting strangers, and trying my best to get the word out.

But on opening night we only had 7 people in the audience. It was a massive disappointment. I was embarrassed and discouraged and began questioning everything that had led me to that point.

The next day, I got an email from WGN TV wanting to feature me on their morning show the following week. As a result, the next three shows were packed and I felt like I had gotten my first small break in Chicago.

It was also the first experience of many that taught me to push through a discouraging situation. From that moment on I’ve always remembered that when things get challenging there’s usually something positive waiting around the corner.

Since that first show I’ve produced a different run of shows every year since. Always a new show, always a new venue, always a learning experience. I’ve done shows in wine bars, gymnasiums, basements, restaurants, small rooms, and bigger theaters. I even put an international tour together, formed out of my favorite pieces from those shows.

This year, against my better judgement, I decided to do my longest run yet. Every Wednesday for the past six months I’ve been performing in Lincoln Park here in the city. It’s always a challenge to build buzz for a show and keep that momentum going, but I can easily say that this has been my most successful run yet.

We sold out for much of the summer, got featured on Windy City Live, WGN, multiple times on WGN Radio, and reviewed by nearly every major publication in Chicago. The show received rave reviews and even won a Chicago Theatre Award, perhaps one of my proudest accomplishments to date.

Every run of shows has been building up to this point. Every small audience, every misstep, every frustrating producer or theatre staff I’ve worked with. Venues have closed or changed management mid-run. There’s no guidebook to this, especially when you’re producing the show yourself. As a result, I’ve made more mistakes along the way than you could possibly imagine.

I’ve never been the kind of person to let failures stop me. If anything, they just make me work harder and keep moving forward. Each show has taught me something new and I can see a noticeable improvement in my ability as a live performer.

Next Wednesday will be the final performance of this run of shows. I couldn’t think of a better end to the run than having closing night on Halloween. If you haven’t seen the show yet, there are still a few tickets available here.

After next week I’ll never do this show again, so don’t miss your chance to experience it for yourself. In the meantime, I’ve already started writing the next show and I can’t wait for you to see what’s next.

This Is What I Do

Recently a lady was dead set on trying to embarrass me during one of my events.

“You seem uncomfortable,” she said, surrounded by a group of friends. “Are we making you uncomfortable?”

I wasn’t uncomfortable. I’d just finished my show and was standing calmly at the side of the bar waiting for the party to end. I wasn’t nervous or bored, I was just being patient until it was time to depart.

There’s always one person at a gig who is too cool for my entertainment. They’re defensive or confrontational. Typically they’re used to being the center of attention and don’t like that a new person might have the spotlight for a few moments.

There’s another person at my gigs. They’re the one that gets it - the type of person who just wants to enjoy the mystery and not ruin the entertainment for others. “Wow, you really know how to work a room,” they say, curious to learn more about my craft and how I ended up being at the party with them.

Those people are a joy to perform for. They’re engaged and intrigued and easy to talk to. They make my nights fun and memorable.

People like that woman, however, are quite the opposite.

I used to become defensive or upset when people would accost me. One person’s actions would lead to a minor confrontation and end up ruining my whole night.

It took me a while to realize that it didn’t have anything to do with me when people behaved that way. It’s not my fault they are being rude or negative. More than likely, it has something to do with their own insecurities. After years of talking with people at events, I get that now and choose to respond differently.

“You seem uncomfortable,” she said smugly, “Are we making you uncomfortable?”

In a flash, my mind went to the very beginning. I flipped through my mental rolodex, remembering how I’d ended up in front of that lady.

I remembered my early shows at schools and nursing homes and libraries and churches.

I thought of the plays and musicals and speeches and improv games.

I recalled the writing and acting classes, the rehearsing and practicing.

My years in theatre school flashed through my mind, along with every role I’d ever performed.

I remembered the two dozen TV appearances I’ve had, many live on air in front of millions of people.

I thought of my sold-out tours, my weekly shows, my corporate and college gigs, and everything else in between. There was the time I worked for 16 people on a rooftop under The Empire State Building and the time I got a standing ovation from 6,000 students on a college campus.

I remembered being in front of audiences around the world, sometimes using props as a shield and sometimes having nothing to hide behind at all.

I thought of writing and delivering my dad’s eulogy. Or speaking at my best friend’s funeral after he killed himself.

I thought of the gig I’d had the night before and what I was doing the night after.

I’d been here before - many, many times.

“No, I’m not uncomfortable.” I said. “This is what I do.”

Halfway

Malcolm Gladwell suggests that it takes roughly ten thousand hours of practice to reach the level of mastery associated with being a world-class expert. Some people take exception to this rule, but for my purposes this week let’s just analyze the magic number: 10,000.

Gladwell is talking about “dedicated practice” - focused training on a skill that helps a person continue to improve over time. You need to push yourself out of your comfort zone, seek feedback, and dedicated yourself to continued practice on a regular basis for an extended period of time.

I think about the 10,000 hour rule a lot. It gets thrown around in pop culture, on TED talks, in magazines, and referenced in numerous self-help, motivational books.

So, I was curious…how many hours do I have?

Being a mind reader is a tricky thing - it’s difficult to practice without an audience. Most of my practice time is onstage - learning the ebbs and flows of a live performance, understanding the connection with an audience, and working on my material.

Given that each performance meets the “dedicated practice” metric, I calculated how much time I’ve spent performing for other people.

I started doing magic when I was 3 years old. That was 29 years ago. Growing up, I did magic every year at family celebrations (Christmas and Thanksgiving) for probably 10 minutes. That’s fifteen years of holiday performances.

When I got in school I would do magic each week at Show & Tell during Kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd grades. That’s 5 minutes a week for 30 weeks over 3 more years.

I also did a talent show many years (5 minutes a year for six years), shows at nursing homes and local libraries each summer (10 shows for 60 minutes for 10 summers).

So far that’s as follows:

• 15 years x 10 minutes = 150 mins over the Holidays

• 30 weeks x 5 minutes = 150 minutes x 3 years = 450 mins of Show & Tell

• 6 years x 5 minutes = 30 mins at Talent Shows

• 10 shows x 60 minutes = 600 mins x 10 summers = 6,000 minutes of Summer Shows

Altogether that comes to a total of 6,630 minutes or 110.5 hours.

THAT’S IT?

So what about college? I did dozens of shows during my time at both USC and WSU. I ran the numbers and it comes out to another 5,000 minutes of stage time while I was getting my degree. That puts us at 11,630 minutes or nearly 194 hours of stage time.

At this rate, this is going to take forever…

Since school I’ve been doing close to 100 shows a year. Some years more, some years less but let’s use a nice round number. Also, the shows vary in length, from 30 minutes to 90 minutes, so I’ll stick with 60 minutes just to keep things simple.

• 100 shows

• 10 years

• An average of 60 minutes each

That’s an extra 60,000 minutes of stage time or 1,000 hours.

A whopping total of 1,304.5 hours.

So that does it for my stage time. It feels like I’ve done so much more but the reality is there are only so many hours in a day and so many shows I can do each year. Even if I did 500 shows a year it would still take me 20 years to get 10,000 hours in front of an audience.

The good news is…it’s not all about stage time. Doing shows is clearly a big part of what I do but not the whole part…there’s more that goes into it.

I spent several hours a day writing, rehearsing, studying, and creating my shows. Plus, I attend other performances, lectures, and workshops to improve my skills. Additionally, I’ve taken theatre, improv, storytelling, and writing classes to implement new ideas and knowledge into my shows. And there’s all the other plays, musicals, storytelling shows, and cabaret showcases I’ve been a part of.

I won’t bore you with the rest of the numbers here but believe me, I’m way closer to the 10,000 hour rule than I originally thought. However, the more I tallied up my practice time the more it struck me that 10,000 hours is not a hard and fast rule. It’s a guideline.

The idea isn’t that you reach that threshold and suddenly have all the answers. It’s that you put in the hours each and every day. If you want to get better at something it all comes down to a continuous pursuit of personal improvement.

I’m far from an expert at what I do. Some shows I feel like I’m firing on all cylinders and other times I’m left stumped, wondering why I didn’t connect and how it could have been better. There’s always room to improve and new things to understand.

However, the more shows I do the fewer bad shows I have. And I think that is the best part of this whole process. I can actually look back and note a visible, positive change in my work. That excites me and motivates me to keep going and striving for each new level of mastery. I can’t wait to see what the next 5,000 hours have in store.