When I was in Chicago, good things were happening all the time.  It wasn’t as if I was some down on my luck bum, scooping up the shitty remains of success as I trudged my way to mediocrity.  But it did feel as if my successes were very lateral.  I wasn’t exactly progressing even though they were good things happening.  In fact, I think I was aware of the lack of progression but tried to block out that awareness.

Wow, delusional t-shirts even!

It’s like when I lived in the Logan Square neighborhood.  While I was there, I think I was trying to trick myself into believing I loved it.  It wasn’t till I moved to a neighborhood with more to do, more of my friends around and closer to the things I liked that I could finally say that living in Logan Square was awful.  I mean, all the hipsters love it — I was lonely and bored all the time.

I mean, I could have studied the local wildlife.

Now that I’m finally in LA, I think I can admit that my success in Chicago, while great, wasn’t exactly progressing my career.  Don’t get me wrong – this doesn’t mean I din’t appreciate my victories there, it’s just a little more clear that they were more like experiences to grow my talent than career moves.

I mentioning this because I had a really interesting run-in at the WB commissary today.  While not life changing, it was at least life affirming.  I was waiting for my chicken sandwich when this normal looking dude in a t-shirt and shorts taps on my shoulder and says, “You’re a writer, right?”  I looked at him, a little taken off, and said, “Yeah.”  He said, “I knew it!  I can always tell.”  I said, “It’s the glasses.”  He asked me what I do and I told him about the monologue internship at Conan.  I paused and finally asked, “You?”  “I’m an executive producer at Ellen.”  I was really taken aback.  COuldn’t even really speak.  He said, “I knew you were a comedy writer.  I try and point you guys out as a little game.  I can just tell.”  He got his burger and left saying, “Have a good one, buddy.”

Next time I’ll just wear this to the commissary.

This wasn’t a job or even a real contact.  It was just a nice moment in the day that said, “Timmy, you’re doing the right thing.  Just a little episode to keep in my back pocket.