When my friend Andrew asked if I wanted come to his last-minute feature gig this weekend, my first instinct was to say no. I was exhausted from work and not really in the mood for a long drive to Tacoma. But the fact that it had been so long since we caught up tipped the scales toward a grudging “yes.”
Soon after we arrived, the headliner generously offered me the chance to do some time on stage. It was completely unexpected, and I had many reasons to politely decline: I was unprepared, out of practice, and still wearing my out-of-place work clothes.
But something inside has changed of late, and I found myself saying yes to performing, too.
It was soon time for me to go up, and the audience was nice and warm after a strong opening set by the host. I opened with a few improvised tags to his set, which got a big response from the audience and ensured smooth sailing for the rest of my time. My delivery was a bit rusty, but I was confident and loose and it went pretty well.
The bar’s owner was genuinely complimentary afterward, and promised that I’d be back to host one of the shows in the near future – a paid gig.
And that’s the power of “yes!” — a new and unexpected opportunity came along simply because I said yes a few times, when saying no would’ve been more easy, safe — and lazy.
I also owe many thanks to Andrew for the generosity of his asking in the first place, though I’m concerned that this post may undo years of work in getting him to understand that no means no.
Last night was my first open mic in a while. I did not do very well.
As a performing art, stand-up comedy is a lot like a sport: you have to practice. If you don’t practice for a while, you get rusty — and you can only get better by practicing with effort and consistency. Preparation helps, too.
Tonight’s my first night back to the comedy clubs in some time now.1 I should be nervous, but I’m actually quite excited. I feel confident in the material I’ve been honing, and I’m mostly just really looking forward to seeing everyone again.
Except, uh oh… I just remembered that whenever I’ve been calm, confident, and somehow not at all nervous before a show, I’ve done poorly. Like from mediocre, at best, all the way down the explosive ordnance scale to “left nothing but a smoking abrasion in the Earth’s crust.”
Recalling that track record is unpleasant enough that now… I’m actually a little nervous.
Which is good! That’s the emotional sweet spot, historically, when I’ve gone on to do well. So hopefully that delicate balance will prevail…
…unless I really start to internalize that confidence, in which case I’ll just bomb as I usually do when I’m…oh no…
—A TIME WHORL…….. HELP, I’M TRAPPED INSIDE—
A cluster of consecutive coincidences culminated in a conspiracy to confound my comedy calling… and that alliterative horror show went pretty far off the rails. I’m apparently pretty rusty with language, too. Anyway, what I’ve been up to is alternately boring and emo, but in the weeks ahead I’ll discuss the goofy parts that tie in to the topic at hand — which, let’s remember, is the telling of dick jokes to strangers in dark rooms. [↩]
There’s at least one outstanding clip from The Daily Show almost every day, but sometimes they really take it to another level. Jon Stewart with Kristin Schaal:
Most comics will come out and tell a quick joke or two to get the first laugh immediately, or will in some other way endear themselves to the audience before allowing any chance for negative opinions to form.
When he appeared on Down and Dirty with Jim Norton, a stand-up comedy showcase, Aussie comic Jim Jefferies only had seven minutes to perform. Short TV sets like this are the kind where most comedians will rattle off all of their short, punchy jokes as quickly as possible: bam BAM, bam BAM, bam BAM.
Not only does he not do that, instead Jim comes out and just launches straight into a long, incredibly offensive, and potentially very alienating story about… well, here. Please do bear in mind the disclaimer about this routine’s high level of offensiveness:
The breathtaking amount of confidence demonstrated here is just awesome, implacable, unconquerable. It’s a tour de force and one of my favorite openers ever.
