The other, other closet

42. When I was 14, I began my own “Newsletter.” I did it because blogs didn’t exist yet, I didn’t have an Internet connection, I was underage, and I wanted to make people laugh. So I created a four-page document that eventually became a 12-page biweekly viewspaper. It was eventually called the Pix Capacitor… just in case you were wondering what the .com meant.

Demetri Martin dropped out of law school to become a stand up comedian:

It’s weird to make a decision where everyone in your life disapproves, pretty vocally and directly. They said, “You’ve got one year left. Just do it.” I had a full scholarship so I didn’t have to pay for it. They asked, “Why don’t you just get the degree so you can have it?” And I said, “You don’t understand. I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do and now I know. I have the answer and it’s dumb to waste any more time.

Most people, when they hear this, think he was being stupid. He could have waited a year and become “Demetri Martin, J.D., Comedian,” rather than just “Demetri Martin, Comedian.”

Demetri: I completely understand. And I’ll try to explain it to the lay people in the audience below the fold:

The other, other closet

The other, other closet ((the second closet being this one.)) is the secret desire to do something you realize is difficult and people might try to dissuade you. It is a feeling of slight shame mixed with a burning passion. It is a realization that it is very unlikely for you to succeed in your chosen field, but a drive that won’t let you do anything else.

Writers and singers feel this when they first get the sense that they want to write or sing for a living. Most people who seriously seek to be a professional artist, craftsman, or athlete have felt this. At some point, a person in the other, other closet realizes that his chances are greatly improved when they come out and reveal their desire to everybody.

But it is so hard to explain to people why you want to pursue something that is unlikely and difficult. Some of these people might even have been in a closet of their own, but they are still surprised when they witness this. Sometimes they think that their case is different or that your talents just aren’t up to the task (though they might not say this directly). Often they try to dissuade you thinking they have your best interests at heart.

When I was in high school, I wanted to be a professional humor writer. I worked at it daily and even published my own ‘viewspaper’ in an attempt to build an audience and develop my skills. I remember feeling like I had a hidden shame and not telling people what I honestly wanted to do when I grew up. Eventually, I pushed past the shame and began working toward my dream.

I purposely majored in Journalism in order to learn valuable skillz for my endeavor and I began sniffing around for loans to start up a humorous publication of my own. Finally, I thought I was ready to begin my business… Then the worst thing ever happened: I stopped being funny. The more serious I was about my dream, the less funny I was. ((*rimshot*)) The closer I got to writing humor (and I did get published in a few newspapers), the less motivation I had to do it.

Some of my friends blame a girl (I went through a break up at the time), some blame my roommate (he wanted to control the business), but I think I stopped being funny when I finally had to work for a living.

Then the dream fizzled until I eventually realized that I neither had the time, energy, talent, or ambition to do what I’d wanted to do. Furthermore, it was a poor medium to do it in: paper was the medium of the past, electrical bits were the way of the future.

So now I blog. For fun. I know better than to try to do it for a living. There’s no worse feeling in the world than when you begin to hate doing what you used to love. Just ask my wife. ((Warning: Wife is fictional.))

42. When I was 14, I began my own “Newsletter.” I did it because blogs didn’t exist yet, I didn’t have an Internet connection, I was underage, and I wanted to make people laugh. So I created a four-page document that eventually became a 12-page biweekly viewspaper. It was eventually called the Pix Capacitor… just…