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I ran into a friend in the bar last night. He paints houses and does construction work. He offered me a temporary job. I start today. Best part of this job: Starts at 10 AM. Other best part of this job: Lasts only two weeks. Coincidentally, the amount of money I’ll make will replace the money I lost from the comedy dates that were canceled. I’d tell you more about it, but I have to be to work in 30 minutes. I wish I had more time to write today. I took a Greyhound Bus from St Paul to Mitchell, SD on Saturday. I have stories to tell!

When I tell people I’m thinking of giving up they ask me why I’d quit? Like it was some sort of fickle decision one would make like what color to paint the ceiling. That annoys me so I have to explain further. “Well I guess I’m not quitting then so much as I’ve been fired.” Today I learned that one of the few comedy dates I have on my calendar for September is canceled. At this late date there is almost zero chance I will replace it. Shit happens. That shit happened to me twice this week with zero new dates booked. That’s a sad score.

I started this blog at the suggestion of a friend. That was back when I was full of hope and wanting to believe. His hope was to become my manager/agent and put me on tour. I believed he had a very cool idea and was the person who could make it happen. The idea was to tout my Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, author of The Vile File and Sirius XM Raw Dog Comedy Uncensored credits and produce comedy shows at music venues on dark nights for door deals. We were calling it Dwight York’s Rock Club Comedy Mayhem Tour. And we had a motto: an evening of raucous R-rated comedy for a rollicking rowdy good time. My friend also had a marketing plan which included creating a poster and a WordPress Blog. I put a great deal of effort into making this new project a success. The result was a poster and a blog.

Although no tour dates was depressing, I kept hope alive. I still loved the idea and believed it could be successful. I’d find a better agent or I’d book the tour myself. But first I needed to create some buzz about me and my out-of-the-mainstream style. So I poured my energies into my website. Although I didn’t seem to make much progress in gaining new followers, I felt my work was good and I was laying a solid foundation. The scores of new followers would come. If not before the start of this summer’s Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, certainly during it.

Last March, I sent Punchline Magazine my manuscript The Big Risk; my mini-memoir about my adventure of doing stand-up comedy at the 2009 Sturgis Motorcycle Rally with the hope they’d publish an excerpt. The editor and chief, Dylan Gabino, wrote back, “i think having you report from the rally this year would be cool….. and if we run an excerpt from your memoir, i think it would make sense to do it around that time. is that cool? as your dates get closer we can chat about what kind of coverage you’d be able to do…. i’m thinking a short, daily blog post with a little flipcam video might be cool for our readers.” I thought that’d be way cool and my hope meter spiked.

Punchline Magazine is not Rolling Stone, but I was thrilled none-the-less. I believed I could turn this opportunity into my career break. I set what I thought was a reasonable goal. Produce good reports and comedy industry insiders and those “powers-that-be” would learn of my exploits and respect what I’ve been able to accomplish and come to share my vision. I also thought that doing daily reports for Punchline would add a legitimate writing/reporting credit to my resume. Maybe I could use it to get freelance work from other publications reporting for other events. At the very least, I thought it would gain me new followers to my blog. Then in the fall I would kick-off Rock Club Comedy Mayhem with some solid steam behind me.

Several weeks before the rally began, I wrote to Gabino to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. Not only did I want assurance to get permission to film inside the campground, I had plenty of reason to be worried that my daily reports might not happen. Punchline Magazine had gone through major changes. They’d recently been bought by a parent company and were about to change their name to Laughspin. My concerns were put to rest when Gabino replied, ”yes, you can certainly tell [the owner] you’ll be sending Punchline Mag dispatches from the event.”

Although my reports were short, it was brutally difficult to get them produced. I edited and uploaded them on my laptop while working in a crowded bar with concerts taking place right outside my door. I was also managing the comedy club stage which meant I had plenty of other shit to do too. I spent zero time partying and worked every waking moment (sleeping little). I reached inside and gave everything I had. I delivered what I’d promised. It was a proud personal achievement.

Unfortunately Laughspin didn’t publish my daily dispatches. At least not on their site. The last five files that I sent them weren’t even downloaded. Laughspin did post the first four daily dispatches to their Twitvid page and mentioned them on Twitter. Maybe that’s what was intended all along, but it surely wasn’t how I had understood they were to be used. This was a big disappointment and a heavy dose of rejection but it didn’t make me bitter. Instead it broke my heart. I felt I couldn’t blame Laughspin any more than I could blame a woman who turned down my bed. Instead I blamed myself for not being more fuckable. Probably my reports were poorly done. Probably my dispatches weren’t funny or interesting or entertaining. Of course I thought they were plenty worthy of publishing, but maybe I am a narcissistic idiot.

I was majorly depressed in the days after getting home from Sturgis. I checked my YouTube views. I checked Laughspin. Just in case. I tried to spin my failure on stupid “what-ifs.” Maybe Laugshpin didn’t use my dispatches because they’d decided to go in a different direction. “What-if” that was the reason and not that my reports sucked. Maybe they were too serious? Maybe they wanted only funny? Then I read an interview Dylan Gabino gave to Rooftop Comedy explaining the editorial direction he planned on taking Laughspin. That’s when my bitter meter went into the red: We’re very interested in working with comedians and having them produce their own editorial content. We’re not looking to compete with Funny or Die or College Humor; we’re not looking to create funny web serials or that, we’re interested in editorial content. If a comedian is on tour, and wants to do a bi-weekly video diary of life on the road, that would be our angle.

That sounded exactly like the video diaries I produced. So he wanted precisely the type of videos I had done but didn’t use mine. That, to me, was a bitter blow. I didn’t think I could make myself feel any worse that day but I guess I had to try because the next thing I did was visit Gabino’s blog at Laughspin where he’d just published a video that sounded to me exactly like the stuff that would compete with Funny or Die.

The Note (Tommy Johnagin, Joe Zimmerman) is a very funny short film. I think it’s cool that Gabino posted it but seems a cruel twist of fate timing-wise for him to publish the type of video he said he didn’t want to use when he didn’t publish the videos of mine which were precisely the type he said he did want to use. In one last twist of cruel fate The Note is nothing close to a video diary, but it could be very near to a reenactment of a story that plays in my head. It’s one about murder/suicide (that’s supposed to be a dark “Ha! Ha!”).

And that ladies and gentlemen (and young cheerful comics) is how an old road dog like me gets bitter. People like to tell me that you have to take a shot at living your dream because even if you fail, you will never have to live with the regret of, “what if?” I am not so sure I wouldn’t be happier wondering “what if?”

Maybe someday this will be funny to me. I hope it won’t be at my retirement party at the fertilizer factory. Thanks to all of you who have followed my adventure and who read my blog. It means more to me than you could ever understand. I hope you visit again next week. I hope I find something light hearted and funny to write about. Or even better. Something hopeful.

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Afterword: I don’t know for sure that I will have to get a “real job.” I know for sure that I can’t continue to be a starving artist if I’m starved to death. I do know I’ll be doing comedy next summer. I’ve been invited back to the Legendary Buffalo Chip Campground for the 72nd Annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Maybe next year is the year my comedy special happens. Until then I will keep writing. I don’t need anybody else’s approval for that. I have a publisher. It’s DwightYork.com

My adventure at Sturgis was a wild ride. Seemed appropriate to film my last dispatch while flying down the Buffalo Chip Zip Line.

Photo Credit: My friend and guest comic Tiffany Norton who just happened to be walking by.  She didn’t realize it was me at first. She said, “Look at that lucky guy.  Her husband said, “That’s Dwight.”

August 7, 2011; Legendary Buffalo Chip Campground; Sturgis, SD.

Last night I was reminded of the reason I do comedy. But last evening’s adrenaline rush didn’t come from being on stage, it was the thrill I felt creating my video report. I filmed myself, arm reached out, talking to my camcorder in the middle of the crowd waiting for the Alice Cooper concert to begin. The bikers around me looked at me like I was a nutcase, but I didn’t care. The image I was capturing was cool and I was in the moment. It was hard to believe that I stood on that very stage, for a crowd like the one I was in the midst of, once myself. It was surreal and it was exciting.

Why do I love doing comedy for bikers? I understand their passion. I live dangerously too. Instead of riding motorcycles, I take risks telling jokes on stage.

Because of the age of my laptop and the crazy weather the Black Hills is famous for, today’s blog post, my very first video report  – a test drive  – is a hap hazard collection of shit I shot and frantically and hap hazardously put together. I had a deadline last night. There was an important party to attend. It was for early arrivals and employees. There were old friends to reconnect with plus it’s the last chance for those of us working the rally to whoop it up. But before I could go to the party, I needed to know if I could accomplish creating videos with my equipment and if I could upload the large files via the Internet connection  here at the campground.

Before actually using the brand new Flip Cam the Buffalo Chip gave me on Wednesday, I had expected creating video reports would be simple. I didn’t realize the Flip Cam records in high definition and that those files do not play seamlessly on my older model PC. I spent two days figuring out ways to speed up my laptop, while at the same time, waging a war against the weather.

So finally I get my laptop running better BUT STILL importing those hi-def files takes forever. Then it takes even longer to convert those files to a type that Windows Movie Maker understands…..then I have to upload those files on a public WiFi connection that is overloaded and intermittent….

There is also the problem of logistics. I’m my own camera man. That’s not so much of a problem with my Sony camcorder because it’s LED screen twists around so I can see my mug while filming. Did I mention I also plan to use my Sony Flash Cam? It’s not hi-def but it has a 60x zoom. The Flip Cam does not have a screen that the person being filmed can see. I have to guess. Last night I guessed wrong. I’m sideways for awhile. That was not intended to be a cool effect.

The video below is meant to be funny only in the context that I was totally freaking out yesterday. But there must be something funny in it. It’s painful for me to watch.

Today my summer’s grand adventure begins. As soon as I publish this post, I hit the road. I have a fifteen hour drive ahead of me. I’m on my way to Hardin, MT where I’ll be attending a wedding. Sunday I set up camp in the Black Hills, south of Deadwood, to relax and work on my video editing skills. Next weekend (thanks to my friend Steve Heinbaugh, Black Hills Comedy), I have shows in nearby Spearfish and Whitewood. August 1st I check into the Legendary Buffalo Chip Campground. The “best party anywhere” starts August 5.

I’ve put a lot of effort into making this year’s Buffalo Chip Comedy Club a success. My goal is to prove that stand-up comedy can be a cool addition to that big biker party mix. I also plan on producing some kick-ass funny video reports and blog posts. The Buffalo Chip has provided me with all I asked for — joke contest to get guests and swimsuit models involved and a sexy talented comedy club hostess to help promote and emcee the show. Plus we’ve added a few guest comics to the line-up.

I leave today full of hope and optimism. That’s a good but rare thing for this old road comic. Keeping a positive attitude is the single greatest obstacle I face in my effort to stay alive in this brutal business. It’s hard not to get discouraged; easy to get consumed with bitterness. I’ve battled through the ups and downs in my career. The triumphs have been sweet; the set-backs many.

Dogged determination and a refusal to give up is what’s kept me going all these years and is the theme of today’s blog post. I’m publishing another excerpt of my mini-memoir: The Big Risk. It was about my 2009 adventure at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally; Buffalo Chip Campground. That was the year Steven Tyler of Aerosmith fell off the mainstage. “Dream On” had been my theme song since I booked myself at the Buffalo Chip months before. The next day it seemed that my dream had died.

From The Big Risk. Copyright 2009 by Dwight York. All rights reserved.

The hours after watching Stephen Tyler fall off the stage were miserable for me. I stumbled around the mud soaked field and stared at the spot where the rock icon hit the ground. I didn’t feel like drinking. It didn’t seem appropriate to party or to try and elevate my mood. In my crazy disappointed paranoid self-defeatist state of mind, I blamed myself for the accident and narcissistically thought others would too. “You brought bad luck upon the campground,” the voices in my head screamed. I felt like the guy at the bar who’s blamed for their football team’s loss because until he walked in, they were winning.

Self-pity is never pretty and it’s especially ugly on me. The next day I had my first ugly set; the pickle licking judges giving me the thumbs down. Though I had reason to blame the audience; it didn’t make me feel any better to have an excuse. I felt like my big break was slipping away and that I had just one more chance to turn my luck around. I pinned that hope on getting one more shot on the main-stage. This time for one of the week’s biggest concerts – Tesla and Hinder. According to the campground’s web site, I was scheduled to do a fifteen minute set that night; though that was no guarantee. At lunch that afternoon, Matt (the concert promoter’s assistant) explained that the line-up hadn’t been decided yet. But that he’d call and let me know.

After the pickle-licking drubbing, I went back to my tent to wait for my phone to ring. It was early in the evening but I laid my slogged-out, dead-tired body down. I kept my boots on just in case; but hope was fading as the hour was getting late. I placed my phone next to my pillow, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. Half-dreaming, I heard Tesla begin to play. That gave finality to what I’d been dreading all day. The online schedule had me opening for them. Depression added to exhaustion and I fell fast asleep. About twenty minutes into Tesla’s set my phone woke me up. It was the campground’s media director, Michael Sanborn, “Did you know you’re scheduled on the main stage?” As it turned out, Matt had been calling, but had a wrong number. Startled awake, I asked Sanborn how soon I was needed backstage and he said, “right now.” What he meant was that I had time, but that I had better hurry. What I heard in my panicked head was that I had only minutes. Though I’d saved one clean pair of jeans and a brand new T-shirt for this occasion, I left on my mud splattered clothes and I raced out of my tent. The infield was packed and I had to push and shove and cajole my way across the amphitheater. I was soaked in sweat and looking a mess when I spotted Matt who was waiting for me at the backstage door. He told me to relax. I had thirty minutes before taking the stage. I could’ve died of relief. He had somebody get me a towel.

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You can follow this year’s adventure as it unfolds online. All the details about where to find my reports (besides right here) will be posted next week.