VINCE

I’ve always wondered how you’d know if someone cares about you.

Stand-up comedy is a solitary artform. On stage, it’s just you and the microphone. Off stage, it’s usually you and the hotel of the night. On the road, it’s just you and the transport of the day. Sure, there are nights where you get to perform or travel with friends, but those are few and far between. In many moments, the silence of loneliness is deafening.

However, it is in the silence that you find the answer.

It happened during one of the final performances of my Vancouver Fringe Festival run. I was physically and emotionally fatigued, as this was the sixth fringe festival I have done in the span of 2 months. The constant retooling of a deeply personal show on the road is taking its toll. That evening, as I stepped onto the stage and began my show, I heard a familiar laugh. I focused my gaze, and there he was in the front row.

Vince.

Vince is an avid supporter of the arts. I have seen him at various shows throughout the years. We chat briefly from time to time. He typically sat in the front row, and he always participated fully in every show. With his hearty laugh, you can feel his genuine joy in being part of our stories. You see, what was incredible about that night wasn’t Vince’s smile throughout the hour, but the fact that this was the second show of mine Vince had attended in the span of five days. Merely days ago, he was at a show I did for TAIWANfest that was only minutes away from the current venue. He didn’t have to, yet he chose to. To sit in the front row, to accompany me in this lonesome journey, and to give me another hour of his life. That’s when you know someone cares about you. They give you something that they will never get back.

It’s nothing I can hold, but to me everything it is.

-Ed.

LAWRENCE

Lawrence and I met through an email.

It was a message outlining the technical specifications of the Players’ Guild Theatre in Hamilton, Ontario. Being the house technician, Lawrence had sent me a detailed breakdown of lighting, sound, and staging for my upcoming performance at the Hamilton Fringe Festival. I smiled when I first read it, because all I needed was a microphone and a stool. After all, I barely moved on stage.

He even gave me a selection of stools to choose from. The man is a true professional.

We spoke on the phone later that day, and I felt Lawrence’s kindness instantly. I assured Lawrence that I needed about 7 minutes for my tech rehearsal. He mentioned I have 4 hours available to me. I said then we will be staring at each other for 3 hours and 53 minutes. He laughed.

The week prior to my first performance in Hamilton, Lawrence emailed me asking when I would like to show up to my rehearsal. My first show was at 7PM. The rehearsal was scheduled at 1PM. I did not want to show up at 1PM. Lawrence did not want to show up at 1PM. We met at 6:30PM.

The rehearsal took a whopping full 2 minutes. Most of it was looking at stools.

Throughout the few days I was at the theater, Lawrence was on top of everything: From on stage to behind the stage and from pre-show to post-show. He knew the mentality of the performers dictated their performance. He dedicated himself to make sure I was comfortable.

Between the shows we chatted. He shared with me that he taught at a local university outside of this job. He told me he always appreciated students who may not have been the brightest, but those who had strong spirits. Being 30 years my senior, he was my dad’s age. I asked him if he were going to retire soon.

“Retirement is a state of mind, Ed.” He said.

After my final performance, Lawrence came backstage to say good-bye. To my surprise, he handed me an envelope, and inside was a $50 gift card to Tim Horton’s.  Seeing my confused face, he said it was a thank you to me for being so flexible and so easy to work with. I thanked him profusely and said this wasn’t necessary. I told him that we did spend a lot of time picking out stools. He laughed for one last time before we parted.

I hope one day I get to see Lawrence again, and perhaps we will go for coffee at Tim Horton’s. Until then, I will keep my spirit strong, like the students whom he treasured so much.

-Ed.

DEAR LOUIE

It took me a while to write this. Partially because I wasn’t ready.

As some of you may know, the late great Louie Anderson was a dear friend and mentor of mine. When we first met, the first question I asked him was if he would like a coffee as I was going to get one myself from across the street. To my surprise, he never forgot that moment. He said he saw kindness in me, and he reminded me frequently to not change that for anything in this world.

When we worked in Seattle, Louie was interested in a famous Taiwanese restaurant in the same building as the comedy club. Knowing I am Taiwanese, he tasked me as the point person for ordering the food for everyone. I offered to pay for the food, but he insisted that he got it. He then proceeded to hand me his credit card, which I emphatically said there is no way in hell that the restaurant is going to believe I am Louie Anderson.

The funny thing is the restaurant took the card in the end. I was Louie Anderson for about 30 seconds.

Louie taught me many things that I still carry with me till this day. Be kind. Be genuine. Be true to your story. There are many days that I feel alone on the road, and there are many days that it is his wisdom that kept me company. When we spoke, I would tell him about my family. One time, he gifted me copies of his book, and addressed them to my parents, saying, “It was nice to meet you, Candy and Smiley”.

It makes me laugh every time. Because he has never met them.

I found out about his passing from my friend, Joe as I was on the road. Joe told me the last time he saw Louie, Louie said he was proud of me. I cried in the airport. My last text to Louie was wishing him a Happy Birthday. I wish I had said more. Perhaps one day we will meet again. Till then, I will miss him with all my heart.

Dear Louie, it was nice to meet you.

-Ed.

A NEW SHOW

I wrote a new show. It’s a show about strength, fragility & love. I hope these conversations become yours too.

I hope to see you soon.

-Ed.

FRINGE WITH THE NEW

So I wrote a new show that focuses on my relationships with the female figures in my life, and I’m bringing it to Fringe Festivals all over North America. Tickets will be announced and be on sale here.

I hope to see you there, and it’ll be an honour to talk with you.

-Ed.

ERRORBNB

I have a confession to make: I'm hella cheap.

Even though I can afford it,I don’t stay in hotels. I stay in Airbnb. However, what you save in money, you pay in disappointment, because there’s alway something wrong with it.

So I redesigned the logo to match the experience.

Allow me to introduce the “Errorbnb” soft-style t-shirt, which is available now in the store.

And let’s be honest, $25 is pretty cheap for a penis.

-Ed.