The Tao of Patton

Chances are you know Patton Oswalt, even if you don’t know how you know him. You might recognize his face from TV (The King of Queens, Reno 911), his voice from that Pixar movie (Ratatouille), or his warped sense humor from either Best Week Ever or his standup specials. Hopefully, it’s the latter, because that’s the Oswalt essence, at least to me. His comedy albums have been some of the best of the last decade, skewering everything from 80’s open mics to Robert Evans to his own increasing waistline and the effect that has on his pronunciation of words that start with ‘B’. His most famous bit was, appropriately, his riff on KFC’s Famous Bowl, shown below:

But his insights don’t always end with punchlines. Reading interviews with him over the years, I’m always amazed how humble, centered, and, well, useful, his thoughts on work and success always sound. He’s usually directing his comments towards comedians, but they’re applicable to any working in a competitive creative field. When I’m feeling particularly inclined to wallow in self-pity or bitterness, a little bit of Oswalt wisdom always shakes me out of it.

Perhaps the thing I appreciate most is how much emphasis Patton puts on not doing your work simply as a means to an end. It sounds simple, but the pressure to make your motivations external is immense. Status, money, fame, acclaim, revenge, getting Daddy’s attention – all of these  pull an artist away from the practice of the craft for its own sake, and the inherent enjoyment that it brings:

From The Comedy and Everything Else Podcast:

“We’re not working in a bank. All these comedians who are like ‘I’ve been doing this for thirty years and this kid does it for five and gets a goddamned sitcom.’ That’s how it goes! What I’ve found is, usually when people say out loud how long they’ve been doing it, that’s always a red flag for me. ‘I’ve been doing this twenty years!’ No, I get the feeling you did this for a year and you repeated that year nineteen times. Like, you didn’t grow at all.

In that same podcast, he takes on the toxic effects of jealousy on comedy. As he points out, ‘success is not a finite resource’:

“See, everyone in their mind, when I was at the age I was then, thinks ‘It’s not only that I succeed, it’s that that person will fail and they’ll realize that I was right.’…So, all these all people that are driven by vengeance and ‘Oh, that crowd that hated me back at that open mic, I’ll fucking show them!’ No, you won’t show them, because they won’t remember you and no one’s going to care…What I realized is, if someone hates you when you’re coming up, like some club owner, and you go and get success elsewhere, here’s what they’ll say, “See how fucked-up Hollywood is? That loser made it.’ So there’s no winning with vengeance. You might still succeed, but you’ll be miserable.”

Another point made in this same podcast and agreed upon by all is that there’s never been a time where a performer’s success was more within their own hands. Compared to even ten years ago, the number of avenues where you can exhibit your talents has exploded.

“Especially now…if you’re a comedian and you don’t make it, it’s kinda your fault. ‘I pitched it to the three major networks and they said ‘No’, so I stopped’. What??? Well, then, you fucked up!”

As the podcast co-host Todd Glass says, these days “wherever you’re at in your career, that’s where you belong.” It sounds harsh, but I’d have to agree with that assessment – not only in comedy, but in most creative endeavors these days. There are just too many outlets and too many opportunities to get your work seen and assessed to be able to credibly blame someone else for what you perceive as your crappy career. There are exceptions, but usually if someone is stagnating it’s that they haven’t given it enough – in terms of time or work – or they don’t have enough – in terms of talent or broad appeal. The only gatekeeper these days is the public.

He doesn’t deny that there are lucky breaks, but I love his response to that:

“If you’re working a 9 to 5 and your neighbor wins the lottery, that doesn’t mean you can quit your job.”

And finally, here he is talking with the Onion AV Club about the importance of living below your means:

AVC: But you also said that, as a comic, you should want liberty, not freedom. What do you mean by that?

PO: I think people mistake liberty and freedom, and they mistake having a lot of money and possessions with, “Now I’m fucking free, I’ve got two cars and a house.” But that actually limits your liberty. I remember Tom Lennon saying, “I don’t want to own a house that’s gonna force me to do things to keep it.” Me, too. I have a very tiny house in Burbank. I drive an 8-year-old car. I’m gonna drive it into the ground. I enjoy what I enjoy. I wanna have enough money, to steal from Hercule Poirot, to meet my needs and my caprices, but I don’t want to be this, “Oh, my fucking monthly nut. I hate this goddamn movie, but I’ve gotta do it.  I don’t want to get that way. People always mistake liberty and freedom. Liberty is where I have enough money now. Having enough money has to go hand in hand with living in a way that you’re not being a slave to your possessions. Now you have enough money to do exactly what you want to do.