<i>"Irrelativity" is on the road as Barry tours his solo shows through the U.S. and Canada this summer. This dispatch is from Montreal, Canada.</i>

One last performance of "American Squatter" in Montreal before I head to Ottawa to begin a three-month run of performing "Jesus in Montana."

The show has been going well. Really well, in fact. Reviews came out midweek, and I got amazing press from the two major weeklies, the Hour and the Montreal Mirror. The Hour gave me a "perfect" five out of five rating, and said stuff like, "What sets this production apart is not only Smith's sharp wit, but his ability to channel laughter's deeper cathartic powers. See this one." The Mirror reviewer said, "Autobiography triumphs with Barry Smith's new show [premiering here in Montreal]. 'American Squatter' uses home video clips, snapshots, audio fragments and Smith's spare, laconic delivery to hilarious effect."

Good stuff, right? I mean, damn. How can that NOT make your day? And not only did it make my day, it made my next show sell out. People had to sit on the stairs. Cool!

On the Montreal Fringe Festival website there's a function that allows audience members, or anyone, I suppose, to post thoughts about shows. I checked out this "net buzz" section the morning after my sold out show. OK, late morning. Not to give the illusion that I'm not desperate for approval or anything. Some audience member had given me the lowest rating possible (skull and crossbones) and written, "Ladies, gentlemen and fellow thespians, after viewing 'American Squatter' it is time for me to announce my retirement. This show is pure travesty and a disgrace to those Fringe participants that have put in immense effort to create an artistic performance. ... It is funny how critics can make or break a show, but what do they really know?"

That's the short version. This person - for some reason I want to say "guy," but I have no way of knowing that it was a guy - really took both me and my show to task, going on at length about how I suck as an actor, how my show is nothing more than a PowerPoint presentation, and so on.

Sheesh.

Now, I'm pretty OK with this. It wasn't printed in the paper, so I don't think it will actually deter people from seeing my show. And, sure, everybody likes different things. And apparently this person in particular likes things that, well, aren't me. No big deal. Ridin' high. Laugh it off. It's clearly not the worst thing that will happen to me on this tour.

But then the next night, during my show - I mean, like right in the middle of my show - I start to think, "Hey, maybe he's right."

By then I'd decided it was a "he."

"Maybe I do really suck. Maybe my show is lame. And I never claimed to be an actor, so it guess it was only a matter of time before somebody called me on it. Oh no! I suck. What am I gonna do?"

But you have to realize that I was thinking all of this WHILE performing my show. Like when someone's talking but you have them tuned out, nodding occasionally, thinking instead about what you have to do that afternoon. That's how I was being, only I was the one doing both the talking AND the ignoring.

What the hell? Maybe the audience is laughing NOT because of the funny picture I just showed on my lame, lame, lame ass PowerPoint presentation, but because they all feel sorry for me and my total lack of acting ability. Wah!

I managed to right myself and go on to do what I though was a good show, though I guess I'll have to check online later to really know for sure?

So why, I wonder, did THOSE words pop into my head at that moment? Why, for example, didn't I suddenly start to think, "Hey, maybe I DO have sharp wit, like the paper said. Maybe I AM channeling laughter's deeper cathartic powers. How cool! Look everybody, autobiography is triumphing!"

I don't have an answer to this question, but I'm hoping to gain some more insight as this summer tour cranks up. Thirteen shows down, over 50 to go.

Insight, here I come.

<i>Read more about Barry's tour on his blog, www.barrysmith.com<;/i>