Good J-L Hunting
A recent breakdown of my finances coupled with the plate-tectonic speed of my comedy career have brought me to the conclusion that I will have to re-enter the workforce at some point towards the end of 2010. With this dreadful idea comes several dilemmas:
- Do I embark on a new career? If so would that be tantamount to giving up on a comedy career if I have to revert back to serving two masters?
- Do I just take a regular job while lying to the people looking to hire me when I should just be telling them, “Yeah, there are going to be a lot of sick and personal days in my future and a lot of bringer shows in yours.”
- Do I dare touch the legal profession with a ten foot pole?
The solution I have come up with is so good it is as if a Hollywood screenwriter came up with it. What I will do is move out west and take a job as a janitor at a law school in Los Angeles. At night in between open mics at clubs, coffee shops and dog yoga studios I will write out brilliant answers to questions posed on blackboards. This of course will not stem from my legal analysis, which is quite pedestrian, but rather, from the fact that I have already taken the classes for which I am writing answers.
I will also work on my French accent and go by an alias, like Jean-Louis. As the law students, half of whom want to be screenwriters and actors anyway, get wind of my story I will team up with one, preferably with a Jewish name and a father and/or uncle high up at a studio to put together Good J-L Hunting. After all, Good Will Hunting is 12 years old, which in today’s culture seems almost over-ripe for a re-make.
After the movie grosses $80 million or so, thanks in part to the casting of Matt Damon in the role of the shrink that tells me to pursue my dream, I will be able to headline clubs around the country and field many offers for movie roles.
I’m glad I am starting to think realistically about my comedy career now. Now I just need to learn how to mop.