Tie Loosening

The other day when I went to a standup show, the very same comedian who I denounced as a dumb loudmouth and later warmed to did something else that left me not well disposed towards him at first. In recent years, it has become more and more common for my home state of Arizona to be featured in the act of comedians. It's funny to think that I should be perturbed, because I grew up sorry that Arizona was relatively obscure in the national scene. It sure isn't any more.

One controversial law after another has ensured that the state remains a figure ripe for the sharp words of comedians eager to be topical. When I was a kid, it was the Martin Luther King Day issue. More recently it was the SB 1070 issue. Now there's the bill that supporters would say is a boost to religious freedom. Detractors call it a license to discriminate. I'm inclined to side with the latter group. Boy, who knew there was reputation and business left to lose after the last thing?

Comic Con?

I went to a standup comedy contest to support someone recently, and there was an interesting subplot to it for it. There I was, standing in line to get in. I'd been through the ordeal of a late subway train and speaking with two different people to get my comped ticket, which is more onerous for me than it sounds. Ahead of me in line is this loudmouth who is going off about how he has all this experience and wisdom about improv comedy or some such thing, and how he wants to impart it. It's sounding like he's been frustrated in this ambition. The guy sounds like he's full of shit.

We all go into the show, which starts wildly late (showing me again for being worried about tardiness). A number of comics perform, including the guy I was there for, but who else should be among them except the loudmouth. I was rather surprised, and also sure that he would be terrible. He wasn't, or at least he wasn't entirely. The memorable moment was the host initially misstating his surname as "Zulu" (when it was "Zullo", or some such thing.) He proceeded to do a quasi-African song/chant that sounded like the intro to "Kung Fu Fighting", dramatically turning the mic to the crowd. I enthusiastically sung the next part, and even though I don't feel I was alone in that, I somehow felt embarrassed.

The Preference

Something interesting about doing live comedy is that you move to LA to do it, often enough, but that you only make money at it by leaving LA. There are so many opportunities to see premier comedians and improvisers in LA, but these are gigs that largely do not pay in any significant way. That's not to say that there aren't such gigs in LA, because you can certainly pay a ton to see the big name people do their thing, but the proportion has got to be lower than someplace like Kansas City.

Comedians do these no money gigs for certain reasons. They do them for some notion of being visible, to be with and to make friends, and they do them in the hopes of getting better at their craft through repetition and experimentation. The upshot of all that is that a fan of live comedy can, as I said, see the best there is and pay little or nothing for the privilege. It's a pretty cool thing about being in LA, I have to admit. There is a downside.

I Stand Alone On Standup

The other night, I was at a comedy show. Specifically, this was a regular standup comedy show which regularly features a mix of promising unknowns and big names. There's appeal with each of those. The  up and comers are putting their best foot forward in hopes of further climbing the ladder. The established stars are worth watching even if they're trying unproven material, which is a necessary step in the process before you see them on television.

On this particular night, all the unknowns were great. I should say that I use that term loosely, as several would be well known to those well-versed in the local comedy scene, but would in fact be unfamiliar to most. In any case, they were great. The host was all right too, but I was not sorry when he was done with his own material. He also has yet to master the subtle art of hosting, which I can confirm is challenging.

Aftermath

It's a terribly stimulating experience when you have the opportunity to perform. Any of us has the chance to sing karaoke, and that's something I enjoy- if I manage to do it well, that is. I'm not someone who gets much out of anything that he does poorly. People will say that it's just supposed to be about having fun, but as Patton says (in the film of the same name), "I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed!"

I think that's what he says. I'm not about to re-watch a film some three hours in length to verify such a quite, but I'll admit I could be wrong. In any case, my thoughts are about performing and the awful, gut-churning insecurities that plague you when you may not have been absolutely fantastic. The other night, I did some standup comedy, and I think I probably did all right, but it's positively impossible to be entirely objective.

Ensnared

When you go into a live comedy show, particularly standup, you know that you are exposing yourself to potential embarrassment or other unpleasantness. Comics often see audience members more as props than as people, so when the audience members don't do what the comic wants, they treat them like a bad mic or something. You have to know therefore that you might get hassled based on a wide array of conflicting conditions.

If you come in during someone's set, it could be a problem. That happened to me the other day. You desperately try to enter unobtrusively, but sometimes the comic or the room just won't let you. In this case it was mainly the comic. I can't imagine if she was flailing around for a life preserver, though she seemed to be strong. What I know is that of the three that entered at the same time, the others got away and I was the lone one who was too slow and guileless to manage it.

I Stand In The Arena

I once made what I felt were some fair criticisms of the stand-up comedy I had seen to that point. I stand by them still. It was partly with them in mind that at long last I thundered once more into the breach and performed some myself for a change instead of playing the critic. I had last done standup some four years ago, and the elapsed time will give you some idea of just how well I felt it went. Since then, I've matured and learned a lot about communicating as well as being funny.

I received fairly little notice before the show, and this had the virtue of compelling me to go more or less with my first instincts as far as material was concerned. A scant few hours before showtime, there I was thoughtfully jotting down ideas in my legal pad, refining them and then memorizing what I had settled on while in the shower and en route to the theater. This is the routine that I have gotten into as a result of Toastmasters, and basically I treated standup as one more speech.

Sit Down, Stand-Up!

I've been doing improv comedy for a while, but it wasn't my first interest in live comedy. That would be stand up comedy, which I worked up the nerve to do a couple of times. I think I came to it first out of my natural leaning towards being something of an anti-social loner as opposed to a more outgoing person. Stand-up is great in part because you are an island: your act need not be influenced by any outside force, and what you want it to be is what it will be. The attention is entirely on you, so you don't have to compete for it. That was very hard for me at the time.

Over time, I changed some as a person, and it was at least partly for good. Things like socializing, teamwork and listening have become a lot easier for me to manage, and so I like to think I've become a little more well-suited to cooperative comedy. I still see in my problems with improv an aptitude for standup, and so I have gotten very interested in trying once again to pursue that, albeit concurrently. That being the case, I've devoted considerable thought to how to do it. I mean partly the practical consideration of establishing myself, but mainly how to create a really funny act.

Many Happy Returns

There has been considerable activity in my life lately, and last night was only the latest chapter. I was puttering around at home, eating some tasty rice with soy sauce and watching a little tv. It was then that I remembered the stand-up comedy showcase put on by Monkey Butler (the org that puts on the improv program I participate in). I got my things together and rushed out to go.