Wrong Assumptions

At my first open mic there were two kinds of people I noticed, loners and a small group socializing. I assumed the loners were the pros and the social group was comprised of people who didn't take it too seriously. I was wrong, not only in my assumptions about the people, but even the notion that there are "two kinds".

About that social group, you'll need to understand a couple of things. An open mic is kind of like a rehearsal for a comic or a training ground for a wannabe like me. You'll see the same faces repeatedly. There are dozens of open mics all over Chicagoland. Many open mics are set up to be first come first serve, so you may have to get there early if you want a good spot on the list. Seeing the same people over and over, sitting in the same room for hours, not surprisingly, people become friends.

So, it's not that they don't take it seriously, they're just not a bundle of nerves. They're hanging out with friends (or at least friendlies) that they've known for years. They were intimidating to me because it felt a little clique-y, and with any community, that happens. But what I didn't realize was what it's like from their perspective. There are a ton of reasons someone might go to an open mic; some are starting out, fulfilling a New Year's resolution, facing their fears of public speaking, perhaps simply checking it out. You'll see new faces every time that you will never see again. So, it's not personal if you're ignored, it's just not reasonable to go make nice with every new face.  They're talking to their friends, you're a stranger. That there's a shared purpose of an open mic doesn't change either of those two facts.

Sometimes the "group" isn't comprised of people who are friends. One time I struck up a conversation with a guy, and we really didn't know each other. But, we'd seen each other at open mics here and there, and we started talking about whatever. Then another guy came by that neither us knew at all, and then a girl that I kind of know. I realized that we looked like a group of friends talking, and none of us barely know each other. If a paranoid person was there for the first time, we might look like a group of friends not interested in anyone else.

The deep-in-thought/intense loner was the other other type I noticed at the first open mic, assuming they were the pros. They MIGHT be pros, but in my limited experience it breaks down more like:
1) Extremely nervous, maybe from stage fright or perhaps a newer comic, but in general, just frazzled and barely holding it together.
2) A comic thinking/working on their material.
3) Shy/temporary loner, not nervous or anti-social, but maybe not wanting to bother anybody or be bothered at the time.
4) Anti-social weirdo - it's almost cliche, but it is true that some comics are only comfortable on stage, and have trouble interacting with people on a personal level.

There isn't a correlation between the categories and how funny the person is or how well they do on stage. That's why they were the first illusion shattered. There were three really intense loners that have stuck out in my mind, mostly because of how completely awful they were on stage. I don't mean that as a judgement, honestly, because I'm just starting out myself, and heck, it could have been a fluke. But the point is, their pre-game face was no indicator of their success.

This entire post (and blog) is pointless, really. It's saying things that are no more than common sense, especially for anyone who's tried to do comedy. "No duh" would be the best response to any of my conclusions.  When you're a child, though, you see things as more black/white, good/bad, and you learn the nuance as you go. It's just an easier way to process something so new; these are the pros, these are the cool kids...

As someone entering a new thing, an innate fear brought out these thoughts. Fortunately, as I got over those anxieties, I picked up a few others which I'll have to get over by being not ignorant. We'll see if I make it out of pre-school.

The first open mic

My first open mic was at the Edge Comedy Club. My girlfriend and good friend came too. One of the first things I noticed were the notebooks; practically every comic has a notebook, laptop, or notes on their cellphone. I had a small notebook, which I bought thinking that I was just being prudent. Seeing everyone else with one was a pleasant surprise and comforting, like a tangible connection we all had.

I also noticed the deep concentration that some people seemed to have. There would be people intensely staring at their notebooks, with a 6 foot personal space bubble. I assumed that these were definitely the "pros" who took this seriously. There was also a small group of people laughing and talking before the show started.  I figured that they must treat this as more fun than a career.  It was a little intimidating because it felt like these were the cool kids who'd be making fun of me after the show.

After the open mic started, at best, I was half listening the whole time, repeating the jokes I was going to do in my head. The night before, I picked out 2.5 minutes of jokes. I went over the jokes almost phonetically, so that I wouldn't think about what I was saying. Some people went long, so by the time it was my turn, I only had about 100 seconds to be on stage.  But between the drinks to calm the nerves and the memorization, I couldn't adapt.  So, I just said everything twice as fast.  Being my first time, the crowd was very supportive, but I was focused on getting through a joke monologue. Since I was rapid fire talking, barreling through it, I didn't enjoy being on the stage.

When the show was over, I felt kind of used, if that makes any sense. The social people still hanging around talked to each other, and the loners left. I suppose I was expecting everyone to bond over a shared experience, but that didn't happen. I questioned my girlfriend and friend at length about how it went, expecting them to remember every syllable, and every reaction the audience may have had. Then I asked them the same questions again, over-analyzing everything.

Ultimately, I didn't enjoy being on stage, I felt rushed, that I wasn't that funny, and some paranoia made me feel judged. However, I said that I'd try it at least 2-3 more times. I started thinking about what jokes I would/could do next. In a way, I was looking forward to something that I didn't enjoy. Weird. I think I know why, but that'll be in another post.

After only a couple of open mics, I learned some things that I wish I knew ahead of time, if only to alleviate some of the worries I had. I'll go over those in another post too.

Goals in comedy

Everyone has their reasons for trying to do stand-up, from passion to greed. You should skip the next two paragraphs if you're even barely familiar with the comedy scene, because it's practically a template.

I'd always loved comedy. As a child I used to listen to my dad's albums of Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby, and Woody Allen.  There was an AM radio show that came on really late Saturday nights that I'd record onto a cassette and listen to, over and over.  I'd memorize jokes from the "Truly Tasteless Jokes" books. While not really the "class clown", I definitely wanted to be the funny one in just about any group, more by saying things than through actions, (although after watching Forest Gump in the theater I did a pretty mean recreation of his running style in the parking lot). However, the idea of performing didn't really occur to me, just "being" funny was enough.

During college I had a dream that I was doing standup, and I remembered one of the jokes.  I told my roommate about the dream and the joke.  He actually like the joke and said I should actually try doing standup.  I started to note some of the things I'd say in conversation and think "that's pretty good", and keep it in the memory vault. Fear/anxiety and a general laziness kept comedy on the back burner. Then I saw a friend of a friend perform at the Lincoln Lodge having completed some standup classes.  Seeing raw amateurs opening for seasoned veterans made me realize that it's not as scary as I'd thought it would be. That's when I started earnestly trying to write jokes instead of just remembering funny things I'd said. I Googled the open mic scene, found some websites and forums, and started doing some open mics. 

So, my ultimate goals: I want to occasionally perform in front of an audience of non-comics who came to see comedy. I don't feel a need/want to headline, record an album, or even make a career out of this.  Now, that sentence could very well invalidate everything I'm trying to do. But I'll get to that in another post.

There are a few mini-goals that I need/want to accomplish.  The most imminent mini-goal is to have 6-7 minutes of material that I feel is really worth doing. What I mean is that an audience would laugh, maybe even remember some of it, but mostly come away not regretting that they just saw it. I'll be getting to those minutes, and how I feel that their "worth" doing, in future posts too.

The reason for this

There are blogs and magazines that deal with the (under)world of stand-up in Chicago. Fans and wannabes like me know the places and players. There's also plenty of musings/advice available from veterans and seasoned amateurs. As a nobody in comedy, I thought it could be interesting to share what it's like to be a nobody.

So, I won't be offering advice, reviews, nor discuss the happenings in the "industry"; I'm not qualified and there are plenty of other sources.  I'll be sharing my personal struggles and stray observations of slogging through the comedy trenches that I've dealt with.

To expand a little and give full disclosure, the "trenches" that I'm in are not even numerous enough to be considered a well rounded viewpoint.  Being in a relationship, having a full time job with business hours, and a (kind of) social life that is not at all connected with comedy/comedians, the time and experiences that I've been privy to are narrow and limited at best. Therefore, comics of all levels would probably deem this blog as being stupid. If so, point taken, and frankly I would agree.