I’ll be honest, Thursday was an emotional day.

I touched on this in an earlier newsletter, “What are you worth?,” but I’ve been really missing my friend Matt who passed in December. Seventeen years of friendship, and my only big brother figure I’ve had in life. Thursday would have been his birthday.

A group of us went out to celebrate his birthday — his life, memories — and we hit some of his favorite spots in the city. Without a doubt he was there with us. Kinda wild how someone’s energy never truly leaves. You feel wrong referencing them in both the past and present tense, almost like both exist at the same time.

One thing about Matt, he knew evvveryone. He was the unofficial mayor of Chicago, in a sense, and it’s been a blessing how close all of us - his dearest friends - have become as a unit of our own since losing him.

The truth is, our friend would want us to be out celebrating his life! I know us being together makes him happy. But I also think part of the process of grief is finding moments to enjoy yourself without feeling like absolute shit about it, because that guilt can lay thick at times.

How can I enjoy myself at all when this is the reality?? Am I allowed to laugh??

I read recently, “Grief is one of life’s heaviest teachers. Whether it was the death of someone you loved, the end of a relationship that mattered, or even the loss of a dream you’d clung to — moving through grief changes you on a cellular level. It strips away illusions. It softens your ego. And weirdly, it often makes you more compassionate toward others. To grieve deeply is to love deeply — and to survive that is a mark of immense resilience.”

If you’re reading this, you’re a human (I hope, but I guess who knows these days?). Which means you’ve experienced grief, and likely many times over.

So I commend you. You are more resilient than you know…

In comedy, grief takes an interesting shape over time.

Most of what happens to us that hurts us isn’t funny, but there’s always something relatable to be found in the things that hurt us all. A way to flip it.

Hurt makes us human, and that’s the beauty of comedy — turning that pain into something people can find a moment of joy in, eventually.

Thursday, we also got news of a comedian we had gotten to know in St. Croix being fatally shot. It being Matt’s birthday as well, this news was a level of emotional that I fail to put into words.

Our pal’s name was Jordan Jones, but he was known by the nickname “Dutty Heart” (Cruzian pronunciation of Dirty Heart) around the island. He was a staple on St. Croix, and was loved for his silly videos about Cruzian culture and his unparalleled bingo hosting persona.

In 2019, I had gone to St. Croix just weeks before filming my special to run my hour. After doing my hour, I took an intermission and then held another hour of live interviews of locals, allowing them to tell fun and crazy stories for my (then) podcast Future Role Model. Of course, “Dutty” was one of those interviews.

Although we didn’t know each other on a deep level, we had such a respect for Jordan, and he was always excited when we were in town as there’s not a comedy scene on St. Croix.

We had him on one of our shows in April, and he was just so excited to be included. One of my best friends on island sent me an interview of Jordan. He was a kind soul, and the island is heavy in the wake of his loss.

I hope there’s a way we can find to honor him on our next trip out. I’m not sure what that will be yet, but my heart is with the people of St. Croix who are hurting from this loss.

…And I hope everyone can find their own way to continue to remember his spirit and carry on his legacy as the only comedian on the island St. Croix…

The Hustle

By nature, I tend to be an escapist, so to speak.

Some of that manifests in the art form of live comedy — you escape real life for a moment in time when you’re on stage. Art in general can often be escapism. Generally a beautiful one.

In other ways, it manifests in the itch to travel; to meet new people, experience new things, and be adventurously distracted by the unfamiliar.

Sometimes it can show itself in working out — running, hiking, listening to music and podcasts — escaping the mind for fresh air and sheer focus on the body.

And at times, it can be finding a patio and ordering a beer and just fucking being. Sitting. Writing. Doing nothing at all. Or eating a whole basket of fries.

It’s hard to not want to escape in some capacity when you’re feeling sadness or overwhelm. And I promise you there is no right or wrong here, only what you need to do in the time you need to do it in order to learn from it and decide where to go from “here.”

I love touring and performing — it’s one of my favorite things that combines all my favorite things — adventure, comedy, meeting new people, laughing, seeing new cities. But sometimes I go headstrong into touring when I’ve just experienced something horrible. A definite form of escapism. 

As I’m working on this next tour, I’m thankful for the focus on hitting cities where my friends live, and getting to hang with them before and between shows. But, I’m also being careful to get through my feels before trying to make them… funny.

Time. We all remember the equation.

The Chill

It’s taken a lot of personal work in my career to really listen to my body, soul and mind as to what intentions are going into my career choices.

It’s easy to feel the need to be busy in this career — maybe part of that is the pressure of appearances? Maybe part of that is financial? Either way, I have realized being busy isn’t always a good thing, and it’s healthy to take pauses.

When Matt passed in December, I took six weeks off of shows, and I honestly probably needed more. I still can’t talk about him on stage — I tried once, but I almost broke down — NOT ready.

I decided last week, in the wake of all this that I’m sharing, to make sure to get home to see my dad this weekend for Father’s Day. So, I cancelled my shows this weekend to do just that.

I’m looking forward to the time with my family this weekend, and slappin’ some fat burgers on the grill with my pops. True Wisconsin father/daughter bonding time.

I will never ever feel bad for cancelling shows to handle myself, my loved ones, or anything needed to make time for people. And, I will never feel bad for being honest in these newsletters. You can always make more money. There are always plenty more stages to get on. But time is the only real asset.

There’s a lot of deep personal growth and healing I’ve experienced these last few years, and when the time is right, it will all end up in my shows. And it’ll be powerful.

Tonight I’m actually starting an eight-week small group series at my church, Soul City, called “Whole hearted” — all about healing from grief, co-creating the life and relationships you desire, and drawing from resources like Brene Brown — creating tools that lead to greater compassion and connection to self. Call me a loser, but I’m beyond excited at the timing of this small group and how much it spoke to me. Can’t ignore a synchronicity like that, regardless of who your higher power is.

I look forward to the poignant messaging and humor and relatability I can pull from all that I, and those around me, have been experiencing as of late. A lot of it was there in my EdFringe debut, but there’s a reason I haven’t shot this new hour yet, and I know it’s because there was more to experience first. More that needed to be added.

I don’t have the answers now. I don’t have the funny now. But somehow it will come, eventually. You’ll be along for the ride.

Upcoming Shows

Official tour dates will continue to go live on my website.

All other shows this month will be on my Instagram — and save the date Saturday June 28th for me and Jake’s second edition of Certified Bangers in River North.

Love you all and cheers to the hustle + chill. We laugh. We grieve. We laugh again.

xx NPH