Sorry, I haven't posted in a while. So much so, I've lost track of what has and hasn't happened; so, I'll just go with what happened this evening.

I just came back from "The Friends of the Bob and Tom Show Comedy Tour". It featured five stan up comedians who are regulars on the Bob and Tom Show. It was a great time. Johnny and I went with a friend of mine from work. John enjoyed the evening and they were all good.

At the end of the evening the comics were in the lobby selling shirts, CD's and signing autographs. As I stood there I was kicking myself for not doing what I had wanted and that was bringing a sample of my stand up from the company talent shows to give to the host from the Bob and Tom show or one of the comics. My idea was to give it to one of them for a critical review from a professional to see if I was really any good.

I realize that my performances at these talent shows are playing to a home field advantage. A lot of what I say in my "act" is related to the job and easily relatable for those there. If you've read this blog with any regularity you know of the frustrated performer inside of me. I would love to be able to act on the stage or film, stand up or voice work.

When I was younger, it was a fear of leaving home that kept me from moving to New York to break into acting. Then, life got in the way. But still I had the itch. Working in radio soothed that for a while. Again, life got in the way. I would occasionally do local theater and now voice work. The itch is still there.

As I walked away from the theater I tried explaining some of this to my son. How, if maybe with a little encouragement from a professional that there really was some talent there that I could give my dream a shot. We got in the car and drove away. As we slowly made our way though the heavy after show traffic I kept running it through my head. I though ahead to Monday morning being back in my cubicle at work. Then I thought of the way I felt when I caused laughter in an audience.

I pulled out of traffic and turned back toward the theater. When I arrived one of the comics was standing outside. I approached his, complimented him on his set and then told him why I was there. He kindly offered to look at a sample of my work and tell me what he thought of my writing and performing.

Life is made up of these moments; when you can look back and see that moment when things took a turn. Will this be one of those? If I had kept driving south on US 1, I never would have known.