“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars and see yourself running with them.”
— Marcus Aurelius
“Have you ever walked late at night through a forest when you are first in love?”
— Conrad Veidt
I have always loved the night. I’ve always found it wonderful. When most people have pajama-ed up and are tightly tucked in, I’m out roaming in the shimmer of the evening. When the sun quits, my heart starts ticking. For jazz artists and comics, the night is king. That’s when we hear the music. That’s when our souls start to dance. The night is what we live for.
I am a nightclub comic. Many of the people I work with I’ve never seen during the yellow hours. Occasionally I’ll be asked to do a show during the daytime. Day shows always seem wrong. Empty of heart. Just a money grab. Even strip clubs are open for the lunch crowd. But never comedy clubs.
I love the sound of rain as it pings off the roof of a car on a dark street. I love staring out the window of a beat-up cab with busted shocks and under-inflated tires as it zips me across Central Park at 3 am. The night is when the big cities or small drab towns all come alive in the shadow of the moon and stars. I, too, come alive in those shadows.
From ages 20 to 30, I mostly woke up after the strike of noon, dying for the night to take a bow. Growing up, I remember hearing my father saying, “I can’t sit in that rush hour traffic anymore. I have to find a better way.” He never did find that better way. Most taxi drivers will tell you they would rather drive at night when there is less traffic but don’t because they are afraid of being robbed. Murderers, thieves, whores, drunks, dopers, short-order cooks, people trying to forget their jobs by burning through their paychecks, people cleaning bank safes and office buildings, runaways, broken hearts looking for an answer, new lovers hopeful they can finally stop looking … those are a few of the types that comics share the night with.
The night is when romance gets its charge. Is there such a thing as romance during the day? Lovers like to hide in the corners of dim-lit booths. Can Dylan Thomas be fully understood before it gets dark?
The night is what many love songs are written about. After a harsh breakup, put on Sinatra’s “Only the Lonely” album at 1 am. Good luck trying to make it to daybreak.
I’m in a profession that allows you to tell your loved ones you have no idea when you will be home, but you promise to kiss them on your return.
During my school years, they never suggested any type of night work. Comics don’t punch clocks; we punch lines. I’m in a profession that allows you to tell your loved ones you have no idea when you will be home, but you promise to kiss them on your return. A profession that while you’re working, you’re allowed to booze with the opposite sex. But the night plays tricks. It can get you thinking, “This is the one” when you already have the one. And lead you to never to go home and plant that kiss you promised them. It’s rare, but occasionally two hearts do meet on a barstool. But rarely if ever without a sad story attached.
I’m in a profession that if you don’t have somewhat of a poet’s soul and if you don’t mind not sleeping with the one you love and if you don’t mind rarely having a homecooked meal and if you don’t mind working every holiday while the rest of the world is off and if you don’t need to own sunglasses unless you’re on drugs and if you don’t mind traveling alone in towns you have never been to and will probably never go back to and if you don’t mind having the stars and moon as your umbrella and if you don’t mind being lonely much of the time and if you think you can be funny in a room of complete strangers under bright hot lights, then the night is where you belong.
And that’s where you might find me.
Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and host of the ‘You Don’t Know Schiff’ podcast.
