I'm headed back to San Diego this week, for the first time since I left back in September. (This both simultaneously feels like yesterday and approximately 100 years ago. Such is the nature of relativistic experience.) My experiences with improv homecomings have always been bittersweet; whenever I find myself back in southern Mississippi, I always reach out to my former teammates in Biloxi and Hattiesburg - I've found in general that neither group is particularly interested in opening up the doors for past membership.
I think this is mostly due to the fact that improv has a notoriously short attention span (something I've discussed many times in the archives) and teams move on. Our capacity to entertain old acquaintances is largely a function of our endearment to them, something that diminishes rapidly with time (and also something teams are more concerned about waves in than individuals). Teams change, evolve, as do the players, and everyone gets a little hesitant about playing around with people that have started to suspiciously look like strangers. Another aspect is the "little dictator"; as teams change, so does the leadership. I don't think anyone outside of the improv community could understand it, but who is In Charge, who is Calling the Shots, and who Has Authority is a very contentious and aggressively fought for aspect of improv. People will fight tooth and nail for years to hold the cards and have a deeply vested interest in maintaining their hold. Outside people, getting personal attention and "special" treatment, have a certain cachet and currency of sentiment that can threaten "little dictators", when they exist.
The big issue though, is the abandoned home issue. Improv is nearly completely built on reputation, notoriety, and putting in the hours. Theaters tend to not value talent or ability so much as loyalty and consistency. While you're in house and working hard, that is rewarded, but when you leave, new people move up to fill personnel vacuums, and have a vested interest in maintaining their positions. The biggest issue with coming home is finding out that home outgrew you, and that there's no room at the inn.
What have I been up to since I left? I still work full time, though I now have 2 hours of commute every day on the train. I'm taking three different improv classes right now, about halfway through both Annoyance and the Chicago Improv Studio programs, but not performing regularly. I've had a small handful of pickup shows (five, to be exact), and one show with my fellow San Diegan, Laurel, but nothing regular. I'm not rehearsing regularly, and only watching shows with any regularity. The tradeoff in moving to a bigger pond is that you become a smaller fish by default. I would describe my life as mostly "empty" and "rudderless" since I left.
I miss performing, teaching, and coaching of course - these were all regular challenges that pushed me and tested me all the time, and it filled my hours completely and fully. But I really miss rehearsal regularity the most - having a regular group of peers to work with, play with, and hang out with. I won't lie - Chicago has been exceedingly lonely, and I have too much time to realize how alone I am.
I'm excited to be back for a weekend; I need to see some friendly faces and some familiar turf, despite how much wrangling had to happen to squeeze me in anywhere. I'm very excited to do a show on Saturday - one with a partner who I love performing with in a show that I enjoy and know well. I didn't realize it when we were performing regularly, but Fourth Date is the most rewarding experience I've had as an improviser - the one show that I can honestly say that I felt most like an equal as a member. For every strength I had, Kate had a comparable (weakness doesn't sound fair - non-strength? skill-gap?) and vice versa, and every group decision was reached equally, fairly, and discussed. Not sure what I did to deserve such a partner, but I'm thankful I lucked into it. I've missed that show and Kate most of all, so I'm glad to get back to it, even for just a night.
If you've followed my Twitter, you'll know I've been kicking around quitting improv for a bit now. The reasons are various, but the Cliff's Notes are that I just don't know what the point is for me anymore. People have recommended a "short break", but I really don't see the point of taking three months off - if I stop, it'll be for good, so I want to make sure I'm making the right choice to stop. Whether or not I quit and the reasons for doing so is a discussion for a different post (or a conversation over a beer), but it's one I've been going back and forth on since November or so.
I know everyone in San Diego is busy, and everyone has a show, and it's just not a good weekend, but if you can, I hope to see you either at the show at Gym Standard at 8 on Saturday, or if you can spare a minute, I hope we can catch up. Coming home, even temporarily, is often hollow - and the echoes can be deafening.
