Opening for a Superstar: Expectations vs. Reality

Sounds cool, right?

Opening for a Superstar sounds glamorous right? I’ve been “lucky” enough to do a little of that. I say lucky in quotes because it’s not always what you think.

The Call

One Wednesday night, I’m hanging out in my tiny studio apartment (I’ll talk about in another post), when my phone rings. An agent asks, “Are you free Saturday?” Sure. She says, “Julio Iglesias is performing an hour away. Want to open for him?” My first thought: Isn’t it a little late to be booking an opener? Then she tells me the pay. Let’s just say Julio and his crew aren’t exactly Rolling Stones rich. So low, she couldn’t book a comic in advance—anyone decent would have bolted for better money.

Her commission was so small, she asked if she could snail mail my check. Overnight shipping? Too expensive.

Whatever. I wasn’t busy, and opening for Julio sounded fun.

Chaos Backstage

Fast forward: I arrive early for sound check. Chaos. Nobody cares I’m there. I have to convince the parking security guard I’m actually the comedian. No one will do a sound check. Then I spot a case of water on a piano. I grab one. Out of the blue someone screams “Put that back! That’s Julio’s water!” Really? He wasn’t going to drink a whole case in 90 minutes.

Dressing room?

Packed with a dozen 20-something dancers. Microphone? Hard to find. Five minutes before showtime, the agent calls in a panic: “Are you there?” Yes, I say. Standing behind the curtain. Maybe someone should have paid attention to me?? One minute later, someone hands me a mic. No intro. Out I go.

On Stage

I quickly realize I’m not warming the audience—I’m settling them down. Waiters are still walking by, people are still finding their seats (his crowd takes a long time to get seated), and I’m basically invisible. So I decide to have fun. Big stage, beautiful theater—I act like I’m doing my HBO special, gesturing wildly, telling jokes. If anyone noticed, they probably thought I lost it.

One person was paying attention:

my friend Mary, a Julio fan who came to see both of us. She got close to the stage to take pictures—a big no-no—and was escorted out by security. As she was being tossed out, she tried to pass herself off as my PR person and yelled “Jan will never perform for Julio again!” Not exactly a threat.

I wrap up, walk off, Julio waves,

I wave back. And yes, I’m pretty sure I grabbed a bottle of “Julio’s water” on the way to meet Mary at a bar.

As I say in my keynote on resilience (Bounding Back: Handling Setbacks Like a Comedian), when you’re in the middle of something that’s not going well, find a way to make it interesting to you. Have some fun. At least you’ll end up with a good story—and the sting won’t hurt as much.

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Jan McInnis is a Keynote Speaker, Comedian, Comedy Writer, and Master of Ceremonies. She has written for Jay Leno’s Tonight Show monologue as well as many other people, places, and groups – radio, TV, syndicated cartoon strips, and even guests on the Jerry Springer show (her parents are proud). For 20+ years she’s traveled country as a keynote speaker and comedian sharing her unique and practical tips on what business leaders can learn from comedians (no, it’s not all about telling jokes). She can be reached at www.TheWorkLady.com, or Jan@TheWorkLady.com She’s also a GREAT Master of Ceremonies. Click here for her emcee site

Some of the stories in this newsletter are taken from Jan’s popular book:

Convention Comedian: Stories and Wisdom From Two Decades of Chicken Dinners and Comedy Clubs.