Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Confessions of an FFG


FFG. A friend of mine coined that phrase in regards to me. I used to be an FFG. I may still be one. Who knows at this point in my life. What is an FFG?

FFG - FUNNY FAT GUY. I am still a guy and fat. Funny? I don't know. I may have lost some of my swagger, but FFG still seems to stick in certain circles.

I don't know how I became an FFG. It just happened. I gained weight, continued comedy and BANG - I earned my wings. My chubby wings.

I was an FFG for years in LA and even before that, in NY and Boston. I suppose all my life. An FFG is the fat funny guy that is always the cut-up in school and the crazy dude in college that runs naked across campus. This clown usually goes to NY or LA and tries to become a comedian performing stand up, sketch and/or improv.

That was the road I took. My goals were the same as Belushi (John, not Jim) and Farley. I wanted to be like those big guys. My heroes. They were larger than life on many levels, both good and bad.

After training at Improv Olympic (Farley's alma mater), I performed comedy in Los Angeles for years and eventually started my own sketch troupe that started achieving the goals I had set for it. We started to get heat and were taking off. It was everything I dreamt about.

All the while I was the FFG of these groups. I was the one taking off his clothes, dancing around like a fool and leading the party afterward. I even got laid off this, as big as I was. I mean, I wasn't enormous or anything, but I was definitely obese.

I wasn't famous or anything either, but people knew who I was and who the groups I was in were. We were getting some heat and I was having the time of my life. It was all in the moment. It was a great time. The weight wasn't an issue. It didn't worry me. It was my calling card. People wanted to see the FFG do fucked up funny shit in the show.

Thing is, I wasn't that fat at the time. I was just fat enough to be in the club.

Around that time I wrote and performed a solo stage show - "Fat Broke & Horny." It was a one-man show about my issues with women, weight and work. All true memoir stuff. I crafted it into a humorous piece showcasing how I could laugh at all my demons. Like the sketch, I rode this for a while as well.

Problem was, I was actually getting fatter and way out of shape.

Then the demons got real. I realized (with the help of my therapist) that I was creating my issues. I wasn't putting a stop to them out of fear of losing my FFG moniker. It was all I knew. It was my identity in the comedy world that I was trying to break into. Problem was, everything I made fun in my act or that I laughed at so easily was coming true in my actual life. My actual identity as Mark Phinney, not the FFG from "Fat Broke & Horny" or the sketch shows. I wasn't separating the two.

This was a problem because people now wanted the FFG all the time. Then I felt I had to stay the FFG to please these desires, because - I admit it - I thrive off it. I wanted to make people laugh, so I did what I had to, including staying in this FFG skin. It got old though. I got tired of putting on a show 24 hours a day.

I was getting tired of being cast as that guy. I was just being given those roles. If someone thought of a funny fat guy bit, it was me they came to. If someone had a part in their project for a funny fatty, it was I that would fill the spot. It was depressing. It's not that I wanted to be the cool, lean leading man either. Wasn't that at all. I just didn't wanna be known for funny fat anymore. I started turning down bigger roles that could have elevated my career. I even turned down my own show at one point because I didn't want to be the fat guy on TV. It was a reality show, but still, it could have put some money in my broke ass pockets.

I was putting on weight and getting sick. Gout and diabetes had already taken shape. I had aches and pains and sleep apnea. I couldn't get up and down stairs. I was becoming bad in bed and would lose my breath just standing up. I was fat, and it wasn't funny anymore. My alter ego was taking over and taking aim at my body and mind. I was becoming the guy I laughed at. I created a monster. My own Frankenstein, sewn together from the plump bodies of my FFG forbears.

The FFG had taken over and he was not a happy person. He is secretly trying not to be the FFG by dieting and joining gyms (all of which he never follows through on or tells anyone about). I had a true inner battle going on between mind and body. Again, this is deep-rooted shit. That fear that you will lose all that made you who you were. That was gaining you opportunities. That made people laugh and be friends with you. This is all, of course, bullshit, but when you are a dysfunctional creative type, it's all you know.

I was less the FFG now, and more the DFD (Depressed Fat Dude).

Every day something new would be a large bell tolling for me to wake to this situation: from career halt, to feeling like shit, to friends and family reminding me I'm only human and, more importantly, I didn't need to be the FFG.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the FFG. The history behind it and the fact that I got to be one. Problem is, as I said before, the FFG is usually a mess of melancholy, anxiety and low- to no self- confidence. That is why you keep the FFG mask on. It's your shield against failure. Your force field against having to actually face your reality.

My life was filled with the loss of a relationship, money and career struggles that led to stress and drugs. I was going to be the only un-famous FFG to die like the famous ones, from food, pain meds and a broken heart.

What was next? The Biggest Loser?

There was only one thing to do. Not be the FFG anymore.

I stopped going to the auditions, putting on the stage shows and got down with my writing persona. I began to write about the FFG and it has helped a good deal. I'm still not out of the woods, and still love my inner FFG, and who knows - maybe I will go back to that guy. Just a more balanced, healthier FFG. Belushi and Farley couldn't swing it, but maybe I can.

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