I learned a lot: First of all, that I’m not as calm as I think I am when I go on in an unfamiliar situation. Second, that I’ll forget the punchlines of even my oldest jokes if I’m distracted. And third, that I need to broaden the scope of my material some.

The second show Friday night was the tough one. The audience skews especially old at Magooby’s on Friday nights- the average age of that second show was easily 65. So while at the first show, I had a table full of drunk 25 year olds at my right hand, at the second, that table was full of little old ladies who look just like my grandmother. Yikes.

And aside from a couple of chuckles here and there, they laughed not at all. At least, not at ME. I’ve got a longer post coming about this, but the short version is that while it would be easy to shrug my shoulders and say, “Eh, old people. Go figure,” it would also be lazy. And I think that one of the things I can work on is broadening my material to appeal to people outside my own demographic. A huge part of what makes a standup bit funny is your ability to relate to the situation being described- when you can’t identify with it, you won’t laugh at it. I think that the average 65 year old isn’t identifying with my material.

So that show was really hard, and it kind of shook my confidence for the shows on Saturday night. And apparently it was noticeable to the Baltimore Sun reviewer who came to check out the club that night. My timing, it is impeccable. Hey, at least he said I was “fairly funny” in the middle of calling me “wordy.” Any press is good press, no?

And here’s the video from the show where no one laughed:

So here it is, 2008, and while I’m generally not a believer in New Year’s Resolutions (or as I like to call them, “Picking a day to set yourself up for failure and self-loathing”), this year it seemed appropriate to set some goals in January. Why? Because my first-ever actual club gig is this very weekend, at Magooby’s.

Because while I wasn’t updating my blog, I WAS rocking it out at Magooby’s new talent competition. While I didn’t win, I did do well enough to be invited to emcee a weekend of shows, and be paid a sum of money that is not only greater than $0, but is also greater than the amount of money I will spend on gas getting there and back.  So this is a very exciting time in my nascent comedy career.  Note that this is less than one year since I started comedy (I walked into my first session of Matt Kazam’s class on February 10th, 2007), so I am choosing to take this as validation that not only am I funny, but I am actually talented and have the potential to take this comedy thing further than an endless string of open mic nights.

Which reminds me: Should you be in the area and inclined to come see me, the shows are Friday and Saturday, January 11th and 12th, at 8:00 and 10:15 both nights.  The headliner is John Knight and the guest is David Kaye. Cover is $12.

Where was I? Oh yeah, setting comedy goals in light of getting a real gig.  Okay, so, my comedy goals for 2008 are behind the jump. (more…)

That reminds me… What do y’all think about comedians who tell a lot of jokes about their girlfriend or boyfriend or spouse or whatever?  Not romantic-partner-as-topic, because all you’ve got is your point of view on life to make jokes about, but more like, romantic-partner-as-butt-of-fat/ugly/stupid-jokes.

On one hand, I’m intellectually aware (and you should be too) that the only thing you can assume about why a comic is telling a joke is that he/she thinks it is funny. It may not be their actual opinion, the event they described may not have happened, and the person they’re talking about may be a caricature, or may not even exist.  For example, Phyllis Diller told jokes for years about her husband “Fang,” but Fang was a fictional character who did not directly correspond to any of her husbands.  We’re pursuing laughs, not truth, people. (Which is not to say that laughs aren’t an effective way of exposing truth, but that’s a topic for another day.)

On the other hand, many is the time when I’ve been watching a comedian and thinking, “Damn, I’m glad I’m not the girlfriend he’s talking about,” or “Wow, what’s it like being married to her?”  Like when I was at the aforementioned-shitty event where the emcee did 10 minutes of “my girlfriend so fat” jokes. 

For what it’s worth, I stick to a policy of not telling any jokes about my husband that he can’t laugh at.  I will routinely stand up in the living room and test new material out on him.  He understands that I might embellish a bit for comic effect, and I won’t poke at any sore points. 

So that’s what works for us. I’m curious about what other people think, though. (With of course all the usual caveats about how comedians aren’t obliged to write what I, personally think is funny, any more than I am obliged to think that what they write is funny, blah blah.)

As I listened to them, I had the beginnings of… something, maybe a bit, maybe an essay, not sure yet… forming in the back of my mind about how the male geek experience is pretty divergent from the female geek experience.  Oh sure, it starts out the same- social ostracism for being smarter than average and having, shall we say, rather more obscure tastes in entertainment and media than the average kid on the playground.  So the geeky kids tend to hang together, which sets up the big social difference between geeky boys and geeky girls later.

Unlike a boy-geek, the girl-geek has no trouble finding someone to date.  Oh sure, it won’t be the uber-hawt captain of the football team, but since there are more guys than girls spending free periods in the computer lab, the girl-geek quickly finds that there is no shortage of available young men who would like nothing better than to camp out with her for Star Wars Episode 7: Destroying Your Childhood Heroes tickets.

I’ve got one vote for the Pottery Barn thing.  Any other input?

I just had that moment.

Every comic has bombed at one point or another. 

Not every comic has bombed recently, but they’ve all done it, and they all, I guarantee you, vividly remember standing there, literally standing against a wall and in the spotlight, while a roomful of strangers they are being paid to entertain stares them down silently.  You can’t forget a feeling like that.

Another truth of comedy:

One night of bombing is not an indication of anything.

Yeah, maybe the jokes WERE bad. Maybe your delivery wasn’t there. Or maybe the audience just wasn’t with you, for reasons entirely unrelated to you.

I had a weird experience last night. I did an open mic night that I’ve done a couple of times before, where I’ve generally done very well.  And I bombed.  But here’s the thing: I’m not the only one who bombed.  Picture 10 comedians, each very funny, and each getting only 20% of the laughs to which they’re accustomed.  The comics who usually get steady chuckling and a few good laughs got nothing but a couple of titters. The comics who usually have the audience screaming got a few good chuckles.

My friends, this is a shit feeling. I’ve experienced times when jokes haven’t gone over like I thought they would, but the feeling of being all alone, with no one to help you, while a roomful of strangers stares at you blankly is like… my personal vision of hell.

And, because I am not yet as seasoned and professional a comic as I’d like to be, I got rattled. I started forgetting chunks of my jokes. I know my delivery must have suffered.

Oh yeah, and the next time I’ll be behind a microphone? I’ll be competing. *quiver*

So today, I am soothing myself with these universal truths of comedy. I am vowing to practice harder. And I am reminding myself that shortly after walking out of this bomb-fest, I wrote the beginnings of two very funny jokes, which will probably turn into a longer bit with some stuff that’s been rattling around in the junk-drawer portion of my brain for a while. Even bombing can make you a better comedian.

So it’s going to be okay.

On November 29th, I’ll be in the New Talent Night at Magooby’s Joke House in Baltimore. Cover is $5, and there is a two-item minimum in the showroom. This show, however, is a “bringer” show, which means that the amount of time I get for my set will be directly related to how many people show up to see me.

Commence emotional blackmail in 5..4..3…

You should come. It’s important.

I’ve also added several new open mic dates to the calendar, so check those out too.

If it’s funny, it’s good.

It’s pretty liberating, actually.  In day-to-day life, we all measure our words, we try to avoid saying things that are offensive, and rightly so.  But it’s a great feeling to sit in a room full of other people who will judge what you say ONLY on whether it’s funny or not, rather than on whose feelings you might hurt by saying it.  A week after the Virginia Tech shootings, I had a Virginia Tech joke (I didn’t set out to write it! I swear! It wrote itself in my brain!).  It was great to be able to go into my comedy class that week, tell it, and have everyone laugh at it before someone said, “I think it might be a little too soon for that one.”

As a result, I have a whole sack of jokes sitting around that I will never be able to tell except to my friends. Stuff like:

“Your company uses newsgroups as its primary support vehicle?  Wow, you guys are so old school you’re wearing clocks around your necks, aren’t you?  Do you have Grandmaster Flash on Tier 2?”

Or:

“Did you hear about that security ‘expert’ who said that games like World of Warcraft are helping terrorists get training on weapons that look identical to the real thing?  Yeah, I guess I’d better watch out for the guy on the airplane with a staff that has tentacles on the end of it.  I’ll cast my Rank 12 Shadowbolt on him.”

I’m hoping that maybe some of you will get it.