Painting by Diana Rogers
Periodically, TheBurg highlights the work of student writers at Capital Area School for the Arts.
I pace outside the bathroom door, my fingers hovering over the call button of my phone. “Am I ready?” Two minutes of pacing, and I finally build up the courage to call. I fling the bathroom door open, shoot out of my pants, sit on the toilet, and hit call. The phone rings and my stomach rumbles. A beautiful young voice answers on the other side, much different than the stereotypical old, menacing, owner voice I was expecting. There is no, “You think you got the chops, kid?” lecture from the ‘60s. Instead, I’m greeted with a “Hello” and a “Thank you for calling the Harrisburg Comedy Zone.”
Months of built-up courage and long hours of writing jokes were about to be worth it. My voice cracks on the how of “How old do you have to be to see a show?” It’s all I can muster.
“Eighteen,” says the woman.
Whatever, I don’t really care about that. I pause. Twenty seconds pass. “How old do you have to be to perform? I’d like to open one night.”
She answers, no 20-second pause. She says they have a lot of openers right now. “You have to be 18 to perform, as well.”
My stomach drops. My poop drops. “Okay.” I hang up.
Stand-up comedy is difficult to get into when you are 17 and live in a rural area. Location and age are big factors, especially when most clubs have an age requirement. Devin Siebold, a comedian from Orlando, Fla., started stand up at the age of 27. “Anyone in a comedy club for the first time tonight? (Wait for hands to be raised) Me too, we’re f***d.” That was Siebold’s first joke. He also took advantage of a cool resource for novice comedians: comedy classes.
Stand-up comedy classes allow aspiring comics to learn, as well as to gain confidence. The Helium Club in Philly offers a class where Brad Trackman, a successful comedian and instructor, teaches you the ropes. I signed up for classes starting in February.
John Powers, a comedian who spent most of his time in comedy on the New York circuit, but recently has retired and moved to Orlando, remembers his first joke, as well.
“It was about Popeye,” he told me. “The punch line was that the green stuff was marijuana, not spinach. I was 19 to 20 when I open mic’d.”
Getting on stage and doing comedy provided a transition between playing music, he said. He would go to an open mic in New Paltz, N.Y., and play his guitar. “I’d tell jokes in between songs and people responded better to the jokes than the songs.” Eventually, John dropped the guitar and stuck to the jokes.
“I hate guys who call the gym the lab. Just because you are stupid, doesn’t mean you can make places different places.” That’s my first joke. Well, it will be when I perform. Unable to test it out on a stage, I funnel the joke through my friends. I massage the word placement judging by their reaction. The original joke was, “I hate guys who call the gym the lab. You can’t make words other words just because you are stupid.” It doesn’t seem like a lot, but sometimes the smallest details make for the biggest laughs.
“My jokes have always been more witty than funny…it’s that extra bit of intellect that makes you question things. It takes longer to write clever jokes, but it’s totally worth it,” Powers said. This attention to detail is something great comedians like Norm MacDonald, Mitch Hedberg, and Demetri Martin use and can really make the difference in a set. It’s a style that fits Powers, and I hope, me.
Telling jokes isn’t as easy as going on stage and launching into the set you prepared. I am terrified. It’s not just stage fright. Comedy is one of the few things in life where you get an immediate response to how you’re doing. There is no wiggle room. People laugh or they don’t, and I am terrified they won’t. “What if I’m not funny?” I think this to myself every day. I’m not the only one.
“All the time,” Siebold told me when I asked if he ever questions if he’s funny. It doesn’t matter how many times people laugh. It is hard to be a stand-up comedian. You put yourself out there every single time you perform. He relies on the support from his friends to push through.
Powers thinks differently. “I’m the funniest person I know, and I know a lot of comics.” Powers is teaching me a lesson. You can’t be a good performer without confidence. “The worst performers look nervous up there.”
However, I believe all comedians are confident. If you can get on stage, especially when you are scared, you are confident. Comedians are brave, whether they admit it or not.
Bravery alone, however, doesn’t make a successful comedian. Neither does just being funny. It takes a combination of both, plus hard work, dedication, and a good bit of luck. When Powers first started, he performed at a Greek restaurant called Mezzo. He drew a crowd. On his third night, the show runner didn’t show, but Powers did. He did so well the owner gave the show to him. He took that and ran with it. He grew in popularity and after a while, he took his show to a club in Manhattan. For five years he performed there, once a month, killing it. It was a combination of talent, hard work and opportunity.
Siebold also struck an opportunity goldmine. “I lucked out,” he said. The booker of his first show kept inviting him out to shows. He also networked, a skill a lot of people don’t know comedians must possess. “I networked and talked to him (the booker) and other comics and, within about two months, he offered me a paid hosting spot at a really crappy bar.” When Siebold performed that night he bombed, but he made $25. He got paid to do comedy! More importantly, he got his feet wet. Siebold attributes his transition from open mic’s into paid spots to networking that night.
Comedy isn’t as easy telling a joke; it’s a mind game. Can you get on stage? Are you brave enough? Do you know you are funny? Are you going to work for it? Comedians are some of the hardest working people in the world. Powers thinks it’s worth it. “I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh. There’s an art to putting a smile on people’s faces, and it takes wit and intellect and timing.” He basks in the feeling he gets when people enjoy themselves over something he did.
When people in the crowd laugh because of Siebold’s comedy, he’s ecstatic. He knows he made their day better. “So many times, I have had people come up to me, or another comic after the show and say how we helped them through a death in the family, or getting fired, or a bitter divorce.” Comedy is therapeutic. “Laughter heals, and it is a privilege to be a humor doctor.”
According to Helpguide.org, laughter relaxes your whole body, protects your heart, decreases pain, as well as many other benefits. Dr. Paul E. McGhee once said, “Your sense of humor is one of the most powerful tools you have to make certain that your daily mood and emotional state support good health.”
I’ve been obsessed with stand-up comedy for years. It’s a world many people admire and love, but one where few people actually have the balls to contribute. Powers and Siebold gave me a view from the inside, answering each question with detail and passion. It’s a passion I’m already starting to feel. These comics work hard and genuinely care about what they do. Oh, and they are also really freakin’ funny.
Iain Sunday is a junior at CASA.
