Look.
I like performing.
Feel free to offer your untrained, pop cultural psychoanalysis as to why. I’m more than happy to toss that shit in the trash.
Buuuuuuut…if I had to venture a guess tho, it’s likely connected to some existential angst related to divine hiddeness.
This is my first (and prolly not last) stand up experience. There’s something poetic about having to do this with my son, Joaquin, in hand. But Dad is the way of the walk.