It Was the Week that Was.

Boo.

I've come out of hiding. Where have I been?

Well, you'll never guess where I worked last week. Or who was the host. Or who never got on a plane to perform.

Now, I've been watching "Showtime at the Apollo" after Saturday Night Live for years, from Sinbad's first stint to Steve Harvey and so on. It never really garnered much interest besides the Amateur Night, the competition where average Joes vie for their 15 minutes of fame. Now, to see it behind the scenes, I realized there are rules to success:

First, don't rap. Ever. One performer actually got booed off the stage before laying down their first rhyme. They started over, and he still got booed.

Second, no stand up. You'll be booed off. One stand up actually cracked his opening bit, but then lost the crowd mere moments later. Score one for the little guy. Score is still eleventy billion to one, though.

Third, if you are a nervous performer, don't talk to the Apollo kids before hand. I saw two such instances where the kids, who were just a smidgeon too spoiled for their own good, would not understand that the amateurs were just that and wouldn't often make the amateurs feel that much worse. There's nothing sadder than watching a grown man or woman being belittled by a 12 year old girl in braces.

Finally, be aware that 90% of the audience is drawn in from the street that day. There's no preparation. There's no "right song." It's a crap shoot.

Oh, and, I got a new job. Go me.

I'll get back in the swing of things soon.