Gibbstown -- The place comedy went to die

I'm going to preface this by saying that I think the people in Gibbstown are good people. I mean that -- they all shook my hand before and after the show and I think none of them would intentionally stab a newborn.

That being said -- holy shit! If there's a center of fun in the universe, Gibbstown is at the point furthest from it.

Here's what I don't get: it wasn't a free show. The people who were there tonight had to pay a fair bit for their tickets. Many of them, I imagine, had to plan to be there (meaning they had to get babysisters or at least put food in their children's cages). So why would they choose to make the show unwatchable by getting so drunk that they wouldn't have paid attention to me if I was on fire? Why would they all talk on their cellphones constantly? Why would they shout and scream at each other during the show?

This would be like renting a movie, then drinking yourself into a stupor in your kitchen, only sort've half listening to it in the other room.

Why would you do that? Why not just set fire to your money? At least that way, I don't have to come to your town and have to go through the motions of putting on a show!

I wondered to myself on the way home if I'm getting too much of an ego. In the old days, I would've blamed the poor quality of the show on myself. I would have taken a sad bath and recommitted myself to becoming a better comedian and looked forward to being invited back to Gibbstown so's I could show 'em how good I really am.

Now, though? I was angry at them for wasting my time. Maybe I need the humility.

I don't think I'd be so mad if it wasn't for the following reasons:

1) I would have had more sleep this week if I was in a Turkish prison.

2) I'm still getting minor headaches and am having problems concentrating. Because my MRI says I don't have a tumor, I'm convinced now that I've given myself some kind of brain damage brought on by continued use of Simply Sleep (tm).

3) I have an audition tomorrow that's kind of a big deal. The last thing I needed was a thorough soaking of my ego in some small-town acid.

4) When I came home, my wife and brother-in-law were watching America's Funniest Home Videos and wouldn't change the channel (because it was the finals).

So, anyway, that's where I am right now. If I were a teenager, I'd try to figure out how to give this blog a mood rating. Somewhere between "grumpy" and "suicidal". Because I'm an adult (and a father!), I think my response will be to watch Sportscenter... angrily.