The Big Rose

I grew up approximately 30 miles from New York City in a suburban town in New Jersey. Therefore, I was unable to live the American artist dream of packing it all up, risking everything, moving to the big bad city of New York to "make it.". It's hard to say you're risking anything when your parents live 30 miles away. If worse came to worse I could leave my apartment early in the morning, walk to their house and arrive for a late dinner. And why would I pack up everything I own when I can store a bunch of it for free a mere 30 miles away. It's less than an hour by commuter train.

The unfairness of it all!

I was not going to let a mere thing like an unlucky birth location hamper me from fullfilling my artistic destiny. I was going to move far away and take that big gamble on my talent. I was going to risk it all in order to "make it" in the entertainment industry. Like so many Americans before me I was going to go west. It was clear if I was going to move far away, risk it all, and live out my dream of becoming a rich and famous funny person there was only one other place I could move to...Portland, OR.

All I had was a hiking backpack, a carry-on suitcase with wheels, and a belief in myself. Not to mention the several boxes hanging out in my parents house ready for shipment once I found a place to live. I arrived in the City of Roses with a mere $100 in my pocket and ATM card connected to my savings account.

It was tough going. It took me five full days to find an apartment and a week and half to find employment. Within a year and half I was making money from telling jokes and on occassion from acting. Unfortunately, after three years of hussling I had no HBO special. Portland had chewed me up and spat me out. What with their $350/month rents and $3 alcoholic beverages. I had no choice but to move to New York City, tail between my legs. Here I am in New York City my west coast entertainment dreams crushed.

I tell myself there is nothing wrong with coming back home.