sidbridgecomedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

Comedy and Free Speech

If there's a constant in the comedy world, it's people complaining about being censored. Since I'm a comic by night and a corporate communicator by day with a double-degree in Communications and English, I think I can shed some light on this one.

(DISCLAIMER: I'm not an attorney or a constitutional law scholar. If any of my readers are and find any of this information to be incorrect, please let me know and I will edit this article appropriately).

There are really two separate issues here: Your freedom of speech and a show runner's right to protect his or her business.

Let's start with the constitutional stuff.

Here's the First Amendment's exact wording: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

What does that mean? It means that the government cannot arrest you because you said something - even something about how crappy the government is. (By the way, remember this is from the Constitution of the United States of America. Every other country is different, so if you're traveling internationally, don't bust out your hilarious "Doesn't the Government of Saudi Arabia SUCK?!" jokes).

The First Amendment is a bit murky - you can still get arrested for some pretty specific language that would incite people to commit murder or cause a massive disturbance. You can also get in big trouble for compromising national security by leaking classified information.

Those things aside, comedians have enjoyed a lot of protection under free speech laws. You really have Lenny Bruce and George Carlin to thank for that. Bruce actually went to prison on obscenity charges for his stand-up and was posthumously pardoned.

George Carlin got arrested for his historic "Seven words you can't say on television" bit and the case was quickly dismissed by a sympathetic judge, setting a precedent that was so far reaching, it was actually part of the Communication Law curriculum I had to learn in college. Which is awesome.

Carlin and Bruce basically set a bar for profanity among comedians that has allowed us to say just about whatever the hell we want on stage for decades. If you've made a dick joke, you should, at some point, cup your hands together in prayer after you leave stage and thank them both profusely.

Some of you are probably thinking, "If that's the case, why do I keep getting censored?!"

The answer is you're not getting censored. You're getting fired. You're getting rejected. You're getting told when you suck. That leads us to the second side of this discussion:

You're free to say it, but the audience and the person who booked you don't have to like it or allow it on their stage.

The First Amendment only protects you from getting arrested. Comedy club owners are well-within their rights to pull your ass off the stage and deny stage time to people who use obscene material.

The comedy club isn't the government. It's a business and that business is allowed to make decisions on how to best serve its customers.

This doesn't just apply to bad words, by the way - if the club owner hates the word "moist", he can totally tell you not to use it and deny you stage time if you refuse.

On the flip side, if the club owner loves it raunchy, he has a right to allow the raunchiest, most foul garbage to spew from his stage and you can't call the cops because you were offended by "Aristocrats Night."

I didn't go digging for precedents, but I can't think of a case off the top of my head where a comedian said something offensive, got fired, then successfully sued.

Like any job, accepting stage time at a comedy club means accepting an implied contract. Even on an open mic show, comics are either briefed on the rules or the rules are posted on the wall. Going on stage means agreeing to those rules. The same way your job doesn't allow you to wear jeans, the club doesn't allow you to break those rules. And the same way an obstinate refusal to wear anything but jeans will get you FIRED, an obstinate refusal to avoid a word or topic in your material will cost you your stage time.

There's also the consideration of the audience.

A lot of audiences love clean shows. Some love dirty shows. The more risky your material, the more polarizing it can be. The opinions of the audience shouldn't dictate your material, but you do need to be aware and able to adapt to any situation you're in.

If there's one threat to the vast protections afforded to Americans by the First Amendment, it's over edgy comics pissing off audiences to the point of activism. I'm not saying it's fair, but the wrong joke in front of the wrong people while the wrong party controls the House, Senate, Supreme Court and the White House could lead to limits on free speech, and that's bad.

I'm not saying you can't take risks, but think before you rock the boat.

Additionally, with our current climate of social media warriors attacking any business who pisses them off, one upset audience member is all it takes to cause huge nightmares for a comedy club. If the club chooses to mitigate that risk by prohibiting a few words or topics, that's their choice. You can respect it or you can choose not to perform there.

In summary, you have a legal right to free speech that is potentially limited by inciting hate/murder talk. Everything else is fair game in the USA, including criticizing the people who uphold the First Amendment. The comedy club, however, has a right to protect its business and to deny stage time to anyone who doesn't meet their defined requirements.

So what's the best way to beat back the scourge of censorship by evil comedy club gatekeepers (like me)?

BE FUNNY.

If you can actually write funny jokes while still working within the restrictions of the house, you will get more time. Once you've paid your dues, show runners get a lot less restrictive. Headliners can say almost anything they want to on stage. Want the same freedom? Get good at comedy.

And if you think I'm being an unrealistic jerk when I say that, it's not just me talking. You know who else started out clean? George Carlin. Go on Youtube and look up his "Al Sleet the Hippy Dippy Weatherman" routine. He made it as a clean comic first before he started pushing the boundaries. Once he was already well known, it was a lot harder for the people in charge to deny him his pulpit.

Now get out there and enjoy your freedom.

[sidbridgecomedy]

The Pandemic Post I: It’s like Running

Since none of us can perform during the COVID-19 pandemic, this is a good time to dust off my comedy blog and write some more. It’s a tough time for comedians and all types of entertainers/artists.

I feel somewhat fortunate - I have a good day job for a company that cares about me and is keeping me employed from home. Road comics are being devastated right now. To all my road comic friends - I love you guys and I hope this ends very soon.

In December I had some minor surgery to repair a hernia. It wasn’t a big deal to me - I wasn’t in pain - it was just a looming danger that would have gotten a lot worse if I didn’t do anything about it. The aftermath was a lot worse than the problem. I was on my back for a few weeks, then it took a few more weeks to heal enough to be active.

So what’s the big deal? I happen to be an avid runner. I started running in my mid-30′s as a way to have some control over an aspect of my life when things weren’t going so well. It was a lot like comedy in many ways - With each run I saw dramatic improvement. I began to be able to run greater distances the more I trained, and after the run I felt energized, like I could tackle the world.

Comedy is the same way. Each time I’m on stage I get better. The more I work at it the more time I can do, and the stage time gives me a shot of endorphins that is truly addictive. 

Then came the surgery. It kept me from running for roughly two months. When I finally got back out and started training again, I was significantly slower and had to reduce my distance. I’m still not back to where I was before the surgery, but I trained very hard to recover. I was scheduled to run the Shamrock Half Marathon on March 22. The race was canceled due to the pandemic, but I got outside and ran 13.1 miles by myself. 

The training paid off. It wasn’t my best half marathon time, but I finished 13.1 miles in one hour and 55 minutes. I clocked my slowest mile about 5 miles in. From there I started get faster until I reached the finish. 

Back to comedy. Comics, we just had our hernia surgery. Now we’re stuck at home by this awful virus, waiting impatiently until we can hit the stage again. 

Sure, let’s do what we can now to make the time productive - write new material. Make virtual writing groups, practice whatever you can practice, but it’s the training after that you really need to look forward to.

When the clubs open back up, grab that stage time! Work your ass off to get to where you were because believe me, we will all be rusty. It’s going to be a bit demoralizing to jump back on stage and have to fight back to where you once were...

...but we will all get there. An when this thing is over, crowds will pack into clubs looking for a release. They’re going to NEED US. After being stuck at home for weeks, people are depending on you to remind them how to laugh together!

Be ready. 

Be Stronger Together while we’re socially distant. I love you all and look forward to sharing the stage with my comedy friends again very soon.

[sidbridgecomedy]

From the Depths I Call Out

Psalms are kind of a big deal in Judaism. King David wrote them as song lyrics, each in response to some heartfelt situation in his life.

Give me a minute. I’m totally going to relate this to comedy.

Psalm 130 is particularly important to Judaism. It starts out with “A song of the ascents. From the depths I call out to you, G-d.”

It’s a perspective. When we’re crying out to G-d, we’re doing it from all the way down here on Earth. Earth is almost like a deep pit compared to the heavenly realm in which he resides. (This is all an attempt at a concrete explanation of the metaphysical, so please don’t take it literally).

What’s interesting to me is what it means to the person leading prayers in an Orthodox synagogue. You see, comic friends, prayers are often led by laypeople in synagogues, and in modern times, (unfortunately) like comedy, it’s become a piece of performance art.

The guy in front of the synagogue puts on a show. He cries his heart out in Hebrew. He sings like an opera star. It’s quite a spectacle.

Many orthodox synagogues have adopted the tradition of moving him off the stage. Instead, the leader stands at a low point so he can literally fulfill the verse “from the depths I call out...”

It provides a strong perspective to the person in front. No matter how big of a show you think you’re putting on, you’re calling out from the bottom of a pit. You’re human. Fallible. You have weaknesses, faults. That’s why you’re qualified to be in front of the congregation, leading services. You’re one of them. You represent them. If you were a perfect, godly being would you need to be praying?

See the parallels to comedy yet?

I’m not suggesting we tear out all the stages and put pits in the comedy clubs. However, the concept of humility among performers has been foremost on my mind recently.

I haven’t updated this blog in a while because I sometimes feel dishonest. Who am I to dole out advice? Almost ten years in comedy and I’ve watched plenty of people soar past me - people who earned it and people who didn’t.

I’ve watched Autumn trickle by and I have done a pretty lame job getting stage time. I settle for one open mic show a week, then jump on here and preach comedy advice?

Yet week after week, I find myself there. Surrounded by bright young eyes at open mic shows, looking to me for an answer on why a joke didn’t work, why their set didn’t win the competition, why they aren’t getting a better spot in the lineup.

I have answers - answers based on my experience, logic, and relationships. I won’t hesitate to use my position to vouch for comics who work hard and want to get better. And I won’t spare the truth when someone asks why their set was bad.

From the depths I call out...

When you’re on stage, it can stoke the hell out of your ego. Remember, you’re one of us. You’re the audience. You’re the other comics. You’re the staff. 

You have all the same weaknesses, challenges, frailties and foibles. You’re not preaching to the audience from a hill. You’re crying to them from below.

To everyone who has seen me perform, performed with me, worked with me, laughed or cried with me: I’m not better than you. I’m one of you. 

I’m going to remind myself of this as much as I can while I look at what should be my busy season - the time when I have all of my Saturday night open - and wonder what I need to do to grab that precious stage time.

I’m always happy to dispense advice, but I want everybody to remember that we’re all in this together and we’re all normal, real people.

#standup comedy #comedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

It is Ever the Audience’s Fault?

Last night at my open mic show, a lot of comics placed blame on the audience for sets that didn’t go over well - enough that it made me want to try and sort out the age old question: It is ever the audience’s fault?

The easy answer is a resounding NO.

I’m not here to talk about the easy answer, though. Attempting to shame 25 hard-working open mic comics because they couldn’t connect with an audience won’t help anyone. Instead, I think it’s worth looking into a few scenarios where the makeup of the audience really does make it difficult to get laughs.

Let’s start with what we had last night:

1. STRANGE MIXTURE 

It comes with the territory at an established comedy club’s open mic - the audience is made up mostly of people who came to see their friend perform. Usually, it’s the first-timers who bring the people. We had a good sized group on one side of the room who came to see a comic who was going near the end of the show (Poor guy showed up late for signup, but I had mercy on him and tacked him on towards the end). 

On the other side of the room was a group of people who came for a different person. They were complete opposites. One side of the room had a Trump fan and the other side had an urban feel. Neither reacted particularly well to offensive comedy. 

WHY THEY DON’T LAUGH: When the audience disagrees about what’s funny, the laughs suffer. When Trump guy laughs, the rest of the room gets uncomfortable. The tension builds until nobody wants to laugh anymore.

CAN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH: Yes, but maybe not all of them at once. You may want to focus your audience read on what you perceive is the majority opinion in the room. Or do your best to find the common ground. It’ll be tough - especially at an open mic where you only have a few minutes on stage.

2. JUST THERE FOR A FRIEND

Little Joey wants to try comedy for the first time. He knows he’s gonna be HILARIOUS, so he invites mom, dad, uncle Earl, his entire high school clique and two or three girls he suspects will be so enamored of his comedy that he is definitely gonna get laid after the show.

The eagle-eyed host notices that he brought a lot of people and puts him near the end so the friends won’t walk out on the rest of the comics as soon as Little Joey leaves the stage. 

WHY THEY DON’T LAUGH: They came to laugh at Little Joey. They see the rest of the performers as an inconvenience they need to sit through before they can finally see their boy do his thing. 

CAN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH: Yes. Hopefully. Bring your energy and your most professional stage outlook, and you can get them to forget about Little Joey for a minute and focus on you. Unfortunately, it may mean giving up on the new material you wanted to workshop and focusing on winning the audience instead - a decision you may choose to forgo in favor of honing that new material. Sadly, when poor Little Joey bombs, they will either pity laugh through his set, or spend the rest of the show consoling him. While this audience may be hard to win over, they may be worth it - if they came for an open mic featuring their special little boy, but ended up having a hilarious night of entertainment, they may decide to come back without Little Joey next time and just plain enjoy the show.

3. THEY GOT AMBUSHED

Let’s venture outside comedy clubs for a minute. Your friend is hosting an open mic at Butt Roaster’s Bar & Grill and he wants you there because you’re funny and it’ll help kick off the show. Unfortunately, nobody told the regulars that a comedy show would be breaking out at their favorite place to get a PBR and watch that exciting Sports Ball game. When the TV’s get muted, the lights go down, and the comedy starts, THEY WILL NOT GIVE A ****.

WHY THEY DON’T LAUGH: These guys came to drink, watch sports and talk to their friends. No comedy show is gonna stop that. You are truly screwing up their plans for the evening and you’re kind of the bad guy as far as they are concerned.

CAN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH: Sometimes you can. It takes a few gifts. You need to be loud, aggressive, and maybe a little empathetic. Sometimes diving down to their level grabs their attention and makes them enjoy the show. Sometimes it just makes things worse and they become active hecklers.

4. THEY HATE YOUR GUTS

I know we all want peace and love to prevail, but anybody who lives in the real world knows we have a long way to go. I’ve been pretty fortunate as a comic who visibly wears a Yarmulke - a strong sign of Judaism - on stage, but I have gone up in front of audiences that included antisemitic people. They had no interest in laughing. There’s a ton of reasons an audience can decide to hate a comic - race, religion, gender, attitude, clothing, political opinions - you name it. 

WHY THEY DON’T LAUGH: They are making a statement. I once saw a good friend on stage use some material that - by today’s standards - a lot of people would consider culturally insensitive. This particular audience got quite offended and made a conscious decision to shut down the rest of his set. They sat, arms folded, refusing to laugh at anything. They were making a quiet but powerful statement.

CAN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH: Hopefully you can. It takes a certain level of emotional strength to overcome a prejudice or to win back a group of people you offended. If you offended the audience, you’re going to have to acknowledge it somehow and work to win them back. I’ve seen this done two ways - 1. By apologizing and switching to less offensive material and 2. By doubling down with some other kind of offensive material to show the absurdness of getting offended (this is an advanced technique. Don’t try it if you’re new). If you’re overcoming a prejudiced audience, sometimes you just need to soldier through the set until you find common ground. You may also be able to win them by poking fun at yourself a bit, but don’t overdo self-deprecation - it just confirms their biases unfortunately.

5. THERE’S NO AUDIENCE

I shouldn’t have to write this section, but let’s be thorough. For whatever reason, nobody but a few comics showed up. Maybe there’s one guy. I don’t know why you decided to still have the show, but you’re there. You’ve got material you want to use and the microphone works, so you take the stage, hoping against hope that the audience will filter in as the show wears on. They don’t.

WHY THEY DON’T LAUGH: They don’t exist. It would be more disturbing if you heard laughter. I think that’s a sign of a psychological issue. Even if one guy is there, he’s going to be scared to death to laugh to loud because he’ll look like an idiot. Maybe the other comics will laugh, but they’ve heard your material so many times it really doesn’t count. You know what their laughs sound like, so you can tell. 

CAN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH: No. They aren’t present. This time you really did find an audience that you can blame your failure on. Damn those empty chairs and their mocking tone!!!

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?

So is there really a bad audience? Yeah, maybe it seemed like it at my open mic last night. My set certainly didn’t go over as well as I hoped, but I still can’t place all the blame on the audience - especially at an open mic night where there’s a mixture of good and bad performers. They may have been difficult, but not impossible - several comics got big laughs out of them. Most of us didn’t.

WHAT DO YOU DO?

If there was one thing that left a bad taste in my mouth from last night - and I’m as much to blame as the rest of the comics - it’s how many people laid blame on the audience from the stage. When the audience is difficult, it’s really tempting to let them know how bad they are. The problem at an open mic is that once one comic does it, the others start joining in. By the end of the show, it felt like ten different comics had crapped on the audience. Whether the audience sucks or not, they will certainly start to believe what we tell them over and over again. 

Don’t get me wrong - when an audience is misbehaving, they need to be chastised. Hecklers need to be told to stop and sometimes the host needs to have a quick “time out” to remind the audience how to behave in a comedy club. If that needs to happen, it should be brief. Browbeating the audience will just lead to an adversarial relationship and it’ll make things worse. Plus, they will tell others about their comedy show experience and make life worse for the club.

In short, if you think an audience sucks, don’t blast them from the stage - do your best to win them over. Heck, tell them you are going to win them over by the end of your set - then do it. Even if you can’t win them over, do your material. Do it like a pro and accept the lack of laughter with grace. Sometimes you don’t know what their hidden problems are. If someone in the crowd is sad because of a tragic incident, they may be dragging everyone down. Even if they don’t laugh, they may appreciate your graciousness and come back again thanks to the positive (though laughter-free) experience.

And keep working!

#Comedy StandupComedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

Feedback on Joking About Work

Last week's experiment on a piece of material/premise that wasn't working brought about some interesting feedback. For this follow-up article, I'm going to look at the responses and give my thoughts.

1. My friend Susan suggested talking about former coworkers, mainly as an attempt to goad me into picking on our friend Jamie on stage - poor Jamie was once the victim of a cubicle full of post-it notes. While it's true and funny, it does kind of lack the punch of a good piece of stand-up. Cubicle full of post-it notes? Maybe a mild chuckle at best. Cubicle full of freshly-cut shark chum? Comic gold.

More to the point, Susan, we really should be making fun of our time at the now-defunct Harris Publishing Company. That place - in less than 1.5 years moved me across six cubicles, all of which were the same, ending in the exact same place I started. We also put a lot of faith in the future of printed alumni directories. What could possibly go wrong there?!

2. Matt, a local comic who's been bringing his extremely unconventional style to open mics all over Hampton Roads tries to butter me up first: Good read!

Thanks, Matt! I also think my writing is a good read!

Here are Matt's thoughts: People may have a hard time understanding what you actually get paid to do. So try being very clear about what you actually do from day today and you could possibly make a joke out of that. Also, you could try stretching the truth with a certain social situation that might be present at work. You could try relating to the change of environment after the Me too thing. You could give your take on how you would run things if you were the boss that has pretty much endless possibilities.

Good read, Matt! Stretching the truth is a tried-and-true strategy for bending a real life happening into a piece of material, and if I could find a way to make it simplify my corporate life, I may do that. Over-explaining never works, so if I can't distill an explanation down to a few words, it ain't happening.

3. Noel, another local comic who also frequents my open mic, decided to rib me a bit: The fact that you have a very good job might alienate you from the audience. Who wants to hear why Daddy McBigBucks hates Mondays?

He's right, but what's even more telling is that I somehow earned the title "Daddy McBigBucks." That's the impression I give off when I talk about my job, and boy do I wish it were true. Right now it's more like "Daddy McSignificantDebtwithRidiculousMonthlyExpenses". If talking about my job erases any credit I have with the audience as a regular human who struggles to pay his bills like anyone else, it's best to steer clear.

3a. Matt chimes back in and points out that if I do go arrogant, I have to turn it up to the point of ridiculousness.

Also true, but I have always felt the best comedy happens where there's a clear protagonist - especially if it's you. If you're an antogonist in the bit, you need to get your comeuppance in order for the audience to enjoy the laugh.

4. Ryan, another comic who I sometimes see at my open mic, wrote way too much stuff in his response. The gist is that I didn't give enough details for the reader to give suggestions about what's funny. If so, he would suggest how to simplify it. There were also some solid points about making it relatable to people who aren't in my tax bracket - which is true, but the last thing someone in a lower tax bracket wants to hear about is the struggles of those in a higher tax bracket. Try listening to a billionaire bitch about taxes. It's frustrating.

5. From Earl: Have you tried lying? They don’t know if you’re a lawyer or a plumbers assistant.

Thanks, Earl. I'm a cheese salesman.

6. Kenneth jumps in with some great insight: I think your later points are probably closer to home. Lots of funny situations at require too much explaining - it's funny to everyone at the office because there's thousands of hours of common experience. Which theoretically makes it an inside joke - funny at work, bomb on stage. And trying to find the humor in an exasperating work experience really isn't a funny bit, like you said, it's really just ranting. Dennis Miller and Bill Maher have done pretty well with it, but they take very public events or situations which really don't require much explaining about the event itself.

Totally agree.

7. Finally, Ben jumps in with the cold, hard truth: I think you’re right about the white collar thing as soon as I read manager of corporate communication my mind shut down.

Ben gets it.

Here's my bottom line. I've actually managed a couple of one-off jokes about my job that don't require set-up. I'll stick with those at clubs. Anything else about my job, I will still jot into my notebook. It'll be tucked away in a safe corner, just waiting for... a corporate gig. Friends, don't forget stand-up happens in lots of different places. Riding on a jet and complaining about how the scotch selection is better than the choices of cookies won't work in a comedy club, but it will sure as hell work at a corporate gig. When the funny stuff comes to mind, jot it down. You may find a place to use it later.

[sidbridgecomedy]

Jokes I Can’t Make Work: Work

I’ve covered a lot of general topics in comedy, so I thought it would be fun to get a little more personal and talk about topics I haven’t had any success with on stage.

This post is going to be interactive (hopefully), so when I link it on Facebook, I’d love your replies on the questions at the end.

When workshopping new material, I try darn near anything - sometimes I don’t know what’s going to hit with an audience until I spitball a few things and find out.

One topic I’ve had consistent failure with on stage is my day job. My official title is Manager of Corporate Communications and I work for a real estate investment company. I feel lucky because I like my job - it provides security for my family, plus the company has been very good to me. 

Of course - like any job - there’s ridiculousness to point out, and I feel like it should be funny. Heck, Scott Adams of Dilbert fame made a living out of poking fun of office life. Mike Judge’s Office Space and, of course, The Office, also proved that white collar life is funny.

So why isn’t my job funny? I have a few theories:

1. It’s too white collar: The company I work for has been quite successful. Often, I have to jump on a plane and jaunt from city to city in order to do my job. I believe audiences often find it off-putting to hear someone talk about any topic they perceive as above their status. It gets even worse if I complain about it. It’s hard to sound like an everyman if you’ve ever ridden on a corporate jet.

2. It’s too close to home (in a bad way): This is a guess, but I would wager at least 50% of the audience currently sits in a cubicle or something smaller, ticking away the moments of their lives, staring at a computer screen. My joke might take them to a bad place. If the punchline doesn’t kick ass in a big way, it won’t break the tension I just caused.

3. Lots of people don’t have jobs: Bitching about having a job is a really rude thing to do if you’ve got people in the audience who don’t have jobs (or have terrible ones). Plus, the majority of that room has a friend or family member facing unemployment. I might want to write a great joke bitching about going through 28 revisions on a 15-page slide deck, but it sure as hell sounds petty. (I say this to myself every time I hit revision number 25 on a slide deck, by the way.)

4. Ranting is less effective when its personal: So... It’s Monday and I am on revision 29 of a 5-slide PowerPoint deck. The revisions I have gotten are beyond ridiculous, including eight different iterations of “try differently-shaped bullet points.” Am I really on stage telling a joke or am I blowing off personal steam? There’s a very fine line between hilarious exasperation and real exasperation. If that anger is coming from a real place, sometimes the audience gets a little too into character with me and they can react like I’m yelling at them, personally. Audiences get emotional - that’s why they laugh. As a show wears on, they are vulnerable to empathy. If you laugh, they laugh. If you get angry, they get angry. 

5. It requires too much explaining: If I was a truck driver, all I would have to do is get on stage and say “I’m a truck driver” and the audience knows exactly what’s going on. I’m not a truck driver. I’m Manager of Corporate Communications for a real estate investment company. Every word of that sentence requires an explanation. In the comedy world, jokes that require a lot of research and assembly are DOA. 

6. I don’t want to do it: I really like my job, so every time I find something offbeat or funny, I may take note of it, but I just can’t bring myself to talk about it on stage - I think most of us who lead double lives as comics and day job workers keep a level of separation between the two. It’s safer that way. This also limits the number of work-inspired topics I can use.

7. I’m doing it wrong: Comedy is a never-ending writing and learning process. I’ve tried several different bits, including material about riding on the corporate jet, a song called the “Your Presentation is Due Tomorrow Funk Groove” and a couple of other ideas. None have worked. This article wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t shoulder some of the blame. Here’s an interesting rule of comedy - you can make ANYTHING funny if you work at it hard enough. Sometimes the search for the right punchline takes years. I may just not be there yet.

Here’s the interactive part: What do you think? Can a cushy, white collar job be funny? Have you had the same challenge with material that comes up on your job?  Give me some feedback - either here on Tumblr or on Facebook and I’ll share the best of it in a later post. Thanks!

#comedy #standup comedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

Understanding Club Owners/Managers

When starting out in comedy there's a lot of intimidating stuff. Other comics, the club, the stage, the lights, the audience - any of those things can scare the heck out of you. Same goes for the person who runs the club.

Sometimes it feels like your life is in the hands of Darth Vader himself. As your nerves take over and you begin to cower in the corner, wondering how you can dare approach the person who decides who lives and dies in this comedy club, it's important to remember one piece of keystone advice:

Don't be an idiot.

Here are a few other important things to remember about the person in charge.

1. It's a human being.

Whether the club owner seems approachable or not, whether he or she smiles or scowls all the time, this is a real human with real feelings. They get happy when things go right and they get annoyed when things go wrong. They have lives, families and friends - often isolated from the weird world of comedy. You're part of their professional life, not their personal life. Respect that boundary and don't pry unless invited to do so.

2. Technically, it's your boss.

When you want stage time at a club, you're applying for a job and the club owner (or manager) is the boss. At a job interview, you present tangible qualifications, give a good interview, and if you're lucky, you get an offer. If you act like an idiot at a job interview, you get no offer. Also, most job interviews are by appointment. Appointments are a little rare in the comedy club world, but it does pay to do a little homework and know the best time to talk. Right before a show when everyone's running around trying to get things ready - probably not the best time. 11pm when the poor dude is trying to sleep - not so good either.

3. Yeah, you're being judged.

Club owners get solicited from hundreds of "comedians" looking for paid work. Many - MANY of them are sending in pure bulls**t, hoping to bluff their way into a paid comedy career while bypassing open mic life. Time is precious and they have seen so many garbage comics, they can spot one a mile away. They've also seen comics at every stage of their comedy careers. They can jump to judgement on what you're ready for because THEY KNOW. You might think you're ready to feature, but they can tell you why if they disagree.

Oh, and that first impression? It lasts forever. Club owners don't get to watch every show. It's a rare/HUGE opportunity to perform for one. Don't blow it by doing a set about something stupid. These people have seen every single masturbation joke and them some. Your brilliant set about how sexy your left hand is will NOT IMPRESS THEM. What it will do is forever brand you as "left hand guy." Even after you grow into a great comic, with the most amazing material about Supply-Side Economics that is somehow super-relatable to blue collar heroes, they are still going to think twice about booking you because five years ago you branded yourself as LEFT HAND GUY.

When you get that chance to impress them, make sure you know what impresses them. Don't be afraid to ask. If you don't have the right material - don't perform. Wait until you're ready, then make that impression - it will net you much more respect.

4. They live and die by the business more than you do.

If you screw up the relationship with a club owner, you don't get booked at the club anymore. That's it. The worst case scenario is that your comedy career gets derailed and that's okay because you're still damn good at installing fiberglass installation and you're making good money doing it. If the club owner screws up, takes a chance on you, and you turn the stage into a gigantic poop stain, the consequences are much worse. The club's worst case scenario is that a bad show causes a Yelp/Social Media/Regular Media uprising and the club's business is destroyed. A club owner doesn't have a day job to fall back on. If the club dies, it could be devastating to their family, their life plans - you name it. So yeah, they have a lot more to lose and they are going to be super discerning.

5. Comedy is a small piece of what it takes to run a comedy club.

Getting annoyed because the owner doesn't pay attention to you? Guess what... There's a million things other than comedy. There's payroll, there's the kitchen, there's the real estate, there's advertising, there's the fire marshal. You're a small piece of the business and time will be allotted to you as such.

6. Still, a little chutzpah is ok.

Nobody ever succeeded at comedy by being shy. You want stage time? You have to ask. If you placed at a Clash of the Comics, or if you get a compliment from a club owner, or they go out of their way to watch your set because they heard you have an awesome joke about lobsters parachuting into a salad bar, use that momentum to ask for an opportunity. Ask for a guest set. Worried you may breach etiquette? Don't be afraid to ask how and when they like to be contacted. You'd be surprised how often they're willing to share a phone number to text or an email address to use!

7. On the other hand...

If they say "no", be gracious. They might not be ready to give you a phone number. They might think you're not ready for a guest set or a hosting spot. That's ok - if they talked to you, that's still a great first step. Keep performing and showing some support for the club. Keep improving. Opportunities will come.

8. Be a mensch.

When you get an stage opportunity, say THANK YOU. Give it your best. Be nice to the entire staff. Nothing enrages a boss like someone mistreating an employee. You're not exempt from tipping. You're not exempt from cleaning up after yourself. Be supportive of everyone on that show. Help build a product you'd be proud of and stay out of everyone's way as they are doing their jobs. Promote the show as best you can and after it's over, say THANK YOU again.

Like anything in comedy, this takes time. You've got to build a proper relationship based on your ability to deliver what they need without becoming a huge inconvenience. Don't rush it. Take your time, put in the work you're supposed to do, and be patient. There might be a little voice in your head telling you bad things (I disagree with this person! Why should I work so hard to impress them? I don't need this club to succeed! If they don't like me, I'll tell the world about XXXX!). Ignore that voice. Whether you plan on being a regular at the club or not, never burn a bridge and never turn away a positive working relationship. The truth is the club owner really does want to see you succeed. If a home grown talent gets his or her start in their club, that's a win for everybody - and it's not just business - remember, I said they were human beings?

Yeah, they get warm fuzzies when you succeed, too.

#comedy #standup

[sidbridgecomedy]

Booking a Show

Wanna learn a thing or two about walking on eggshells?

It’ll happen at some point after you start doing comedy - an opportunity will drop in your lap that you can’t pass up. Somebody wants a show. They want a show from you. Maybe it’s your friend’s bar. Maybe it’s your church or synagogue. Maybe it’s your friend’s house.

Now you’re in a tough position. You want to make sure they get the show they want, but putting it together isn’t easy - no matter what anyone tells you. Let’s cover a few of the mine fields you have to negotiate as show runner.

YOU

Have an honest conversation with yourself and decide if you’re really ready to do this. If you’ve only been doing comedy for a year and all of your comedy friends have only been doing it for six months, are you really going to put on a good show? Don’t be afraid to pass it off to a more experienced show-runner. You’ll still get to be a part of it and it will still pay off for you down the road... assuming you recommend the right person. Use your best judgement and don’t be afraid to be honest with your friend if you’re not up to the job.

YOUR PEERS

Think about who you might piss off. Will you be taking talent or audience away from another show? Are you anywhere near an established comedy club? (You might be bristling because you feel like you should have a right to open a show wherever you want, but as a guy who also works in real estate, I can tell you that if I go and open a shoe store in a shopping center, it’s within my rights to get a clause in my lease that says no other shoe store will open in that shopping center. If your venue is right by a comedy club, you could be in violation of their lease, or at least you could be a bit of a jerk. Yes, this is America and competition is good, but it also means you will lose a friend and that club will probably stop booking you.) Did a friend of yours book a show there and get it taken away? Is your show idea original or does it copy someone else’s show? These are all decisions you need to make for yourself, and the all have an impact on relationships you probably value.

THE VENUE - BARS

The owner of Pappy’s Suds Hut has been your friend since middle school. He heard about this comedy thing you’re doing and he thinks a comedy show will be just the think to perk up his dying Tuesday evening business. Here are a few expectations a bar should meet before you think about doing a show there:

Actively market the show - If the bar owner is going to lean on you, that’s okay, but it can’t be the only source of marketing. Believe me, your friends on social media stopped listening to you about two weeks after you became a comic. That means if you want to do marketing you need to hop on your scooter and hand out real printed fliers. If the bar isn’t going to add to that, say no.

Support the show - You’d think this would be implicit, but you’re wrong. I’ve been to bar gig where the bartender and wait staff actively hated the comedy show. Loud drinks were shaken during performances and waitstaff actively talked over the show. The bar needs to commit to support from its staff. They also need to make sure the setup is conducive to comedy. TVs need to be off. Music needs to stop. Lighting needs to exist. A stage would be nice. That stage shouldn’t be in the path of travel - not by the bathroom, not between the tables and the door, not blocking a fire exit. Pool tables need to be covered/shut down if they are in the same room. Unwillingness to cut out the distractions is a deal-breaker.

The regular patrons - The bar can’t control these people, but they should get ample warning there’s going to be a show. If the regular crowd at the bar is often drunk, loud and opinionated, a comic is going to get punched. You can’t ask the bar to change its clientele, but if you know it’s always full of the wrong people, decline the show.

THE VENUE - RELIGIOUS

If your church wants a comedy show, that’s awesome. Some of the best comedy shows I’ve been a part of have been at places of worship. Make sure they understand how comedy works and what level of control (or lack thereof) they will have over the show. Make sure the facility is adequate - when it comes to places of worship, they usually have a nice auditorium with a stage. Honestly these show are usually a win/win as religious people love to laugh and they have a built-in audience. Just be careful when picking your comics. What you think is clean at a club might still be too dirty for a church. 

Also, most of the religious organizations I’ve dealt with have been in perpetual need to raise money. Chances are you’re going to be asked to donate your services. If you are okay with that, good for you! You’re being charitable! Just keep in mind your time has value. Plus any comics you book on this show have value, too. Don’t be afraid to at least ask for gas money. You’d be surprised how generous churches or synagogues can be - especially if they are making money off of ticket sales for the show. Never volunteer anyone else for free without their permission - always assume pay is expected. If a comic wants to donate their pay back to the organization, that’s nice, but anyone who takes the money should not be looked down upon. They earned it.

THE VENUE - CORPORATE

Oh boy. Your boss wants a comedy show. Screw this up, and you’re back on mail room duty. Don’t be afraid to decline. Mixing work and comedy can be dangerous. One offensive thing said on stage could mess up your day job for good. Be clear about everything you need when it comes to location, sound, lighting, etc. Book only comics you know will kick ass. Also, even if the boss says he or she is okay with dirty, err on the side of clean. You don’t know what your boss perceives as dirty comedy versus “totally obscene.” Plus, the whole rest of the crowd might not want it dirty at all. I once did a corporate show where the boss wanted comedy and the employees were clearly there begrudgingly. It was super awkward. Be prepared to let the boss act like the boss, while focusing on entertaining the employees. The boss needs to stay happy since that’s who’s stroking the check, but whatever you can do to make the employees less miserable is a noble thing. 

When doing corporate shows, do not undervalue yourself! Most companies operate at a profit and they have the money to pay you. Be prepared to negotiate just like you would if you were applying for a job. Get as much as you can for you and the rest of the comics. Scale it based on the size of the company and the audience. A word of caution, though - if a company is ready to drop several thousand dollars on comedians for a show, bring talent that’s worth the money.

THE VENUE - YOUR FRIEND’S HOUSE

Do whatever the hell you want. It’s your friends house. Don’t ruin your friendship.

THE TALENT

Picking who performs on your show is going to make your life very, very difficult. You’re going to make value judgments against your own friends. You’re going to forget somebody. You’re going to make somebody jealous. You’re going to stop being just another comic and start being “that guy in charge of that show.”

Talent selection depends a lot on the type of show you’re tasked with putting together. Here are a few show types (these “types” aren’t official, so if this doesn’t sound right to you, well, fine):

1. Open Mic - This one’s easy. Anyone who signs up can go up. The venue should understand that some comics will be terrible and hopefully will advertise the show as an open mic. At least you won’t be rejecting any friends. Just be prepared to do a lot of babysitting. Even though expectations are low, you still need maintain some level of quality, so you will be cutting people off occasionally.

2. Workshop - You’re going to pick 12-15 comics who either know what they’re doing or have at least shown promise and let them work out some new material. You may find yourself having to reject people, so have a system ready that makes sense - whether it’s that spots go to the first 15 who text you or if you do a drawing, just stick to your guns and keep the quality up.

3. Showcase - 6-7 comics with one closing and doing an extended set. Do not give that extended set to someone who doesn’t have the time. If you’ve only seen so-and-so do 8 minutes, no matter how much time he says he can do, you can’t afford to believe him. Book known quantities - even for the beginning spots. If one comic sucks and you cut him 8 minutes early, the others may be able to make up the time. If two comics suck and now you’ve got almost 20 extra minutes to fill, your show fails.

4. Headliner/Feature/Host - You get to provide that real comedy-club-style experience! Well, you probably shouldn’t. You should probably pass this one off to someone who can actually book a headliner. But if you must... Book a real headliner. Don’t even talk to someone unless they have actually headlined. Same for the feature. Same for the host. I know it’s tempting, but don’t make yourself the headliner. If you’ve never headlined, it’s going to backfire in splendid fashion - you’ll embarrass yourself in front of your friends, you’ll lose the business, and any comic friends you have who are headliners will be pissed at your for declaring yourself a headliner.

As I said, once you’ve booked a show, your comedy life changes. Other comics start kissing your ass to get on the show. Comics start spreading rumors about why they didn’t get booked. Honesty is the best policy, but it will ruin some friendships. When you tell Crazy Larry The Comedian that he’s not funny enough, not clean enough, or not hygienic enough to be on your show, he may not take it well. 

On the flip side, you will get an enhanced understanding of the business. You will finally get why that open mic host was such a jerk to you the first time you signed up. You’ll finally understand the best and worst ways to get booked on other shows and when/how to follow up. I’ve had comics come back to me over a year after their first time at my open mic and apologize for how they behaved when they first started. Why? Because they got a taste of running a show and truly understand how frustrating and stressful it can get.

Putting together a successful show is extremely rewarding and it’s a feeling I wouldn’t deny anyone. However... here’s one last thought in closing: If your goal is to be a comedian, don’t get caught up in a being a show-runner. Sure, the success is awesome and you are providing opportunities to your friends, but is that why you started stand-up comedy? Running a show is time-consuming, energy-draining work. If it distracts you from your true goal, don’t be afraid to lighten the load. 

Remember, you’re supposed to love what you’re doing. 

#comedy #standup

[sidbridgecomedy]

Comedy for a Cause

Any fan or practitioner of comedy knows its power. Well-placed laughter can diffuse tough situations, help us work through grief, and call out things in the world that need to be changed.

The healing power of laughter has actually been the subject of medical studies.(A quick Google search easily backs that up. Give this link a read: https://www.helpguide.org/articles/mental-health/laughter-is-the-best-medicine.htm)

As a comic, when a cause presents itself, it’s hard not to step up and use your talent to help raise money or awareness. A lot of us feel that way, which leads me to this important plug:

On July 14, The Virginia Beach Funny Bone will host the #VBStrong Comedy Marathon. From noon to midnight, a variety of performers from every corner of our comedy community will take the stage.

From headliners like Leonard Ouzts to sketch and improv groups from the Push Theater to local stand up comics from every experience level, the event will be unparalleled in our area.

It’s happening because darn near every comic here wanted it to. A lot of people reached out to see what could be done to help after the tragic shooting at the Virginia Beach Municipal Center. A core group of organizers quickly formed, and an event came together that is sure to raise good money for the Virginia Beach Tragedy Fund and help us all laugh/heal together.

This level of cooperation among the Hampton Roads comedy scene is uplifting to say the least. It’s a great reminder of how kind-hearted so many of us can be. I encourage you to attend the show (get tickets here: http://vb.funnybone.com/ShowDetails/b1e374fb-9b94-4e93-814f-ccd498c6e96b/eaf5e248-1faf-437c-8832-2fb72fdee936/_VBStrong_Comedy_Marathon/Virginia_Beach_Funny_Bone) and if you know a company that wants to be a sponsor, please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Charity isn’t just a one-day thing, so here a few tips/ideas/expectations if you want to use comedy to help a cause:

Set your expectations. 

A big event with big sponsors and big news coverage raises big money. One show for a crowd of 100 people raises small money. Either is fine - just be realistic with your goals. When it comes to any cause, anything helps.

Pick a cause that’s close to you.

A lot of us jumped at the chance to help the Virginia Beach Tragedy Fund because we live in or near Virginia Beach. We know people who were directly connected to the tragedy. A Geek Night Comedy shows, we raise money for the ALS Association. Why? Because one of our comics and one of my best friends ever, James Rodatus, is currently living with ALS. I know our shows aren’t a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what ALSa raised with actual buckets (full of ice), but I feel a very real urgency to do everything I can to help them find a cure. A personal connection is a motivating factor that will supercharge your efforts to making the show succeed.

Put on a great show.

When you adopt a charity for a show - whether you’re officially recognized by the charity or not - you are now an ambassador for that charity. Your show needs to reflect the values of the organization you’re raising money for. That may or may not mean content restrictions. It may mean being careful who you ask to perform. Either way, the quality of the show should be top notch. If the audience walks away hating the show, your fund raising efforts will suffer. Remember - a comic might have his heart in the right place by requesting on a show to support a charity, but you have to make decisions as to how much A+ time they have. It’s important to be honest (yet kind) to a comic who may not be able to contribute much to the stage and give them other ways to participate.

Here’s a personal story about what NOT to do. 

Before comedy, I was a bass player in several different bands. In college, I made the questionable decision of joining an alt/metal band just because my last band broke up and I wanted the first gig I could find. I have no idea how this happened, but for some reason we were booked at a cancer walk. A lot of brave people were going to spend the day walking in circles to raise money for cancer research. 

We were one of a few bands who would play music while they were walking. The other bands had set lists that were pretty appropriate to the event, whereas we had some drug-fueled metal rants about how much the guitarist hated his father and how awesome the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was (please don’t ask me to explain this crap. I was the only one in the band who wasn’t a habitual drug user and I was completely at a loss). 

The moment of HIGH EMBARRASSMENT came when our vocalist decided to put in a plug for his own charity: Billy Bob’s Tobacco & More had recently been raided by the police, who seized all the drug paraphernalia they were selling under the guise of a “tobacco shop.” He told all the kind people walking around trying to raise money to CURE CANCER that they should stop by Billy Bob’s Tobacco & More and give them a few bucks. 

As soon as the “WHAT THE HELL” look faded from my face, I shrunk back by my amplifier in outright shame and quietly played through the rest of the gig. Not long after, I got my roommates to help me as I made an awkward parting with that band. 

The moral of the story is twofold - 1. Do your homework before you book an act on a charity show and 2. If you’re on the show, don’t be an idiot. Just do your job. If your personal beliefs don’t line up with the charity, you shouldn’t have taken the gig. If you’re there anyway, then keep your mouth shut about your personal feelings and be a professional.

Bottom line here is that you shouldn’t ignore that little voice in your head asking you to step out and raise money or awareness for any cause that needs your help. Try it. You’ll be surprised at who supports you.

[sidbridgecomedy]

Creating Geek Night Comedy

We’re coming up on the 8th anniversary of the first Geek Night Comedy show at the Virginia Beach Funny Bone. 

The show started after conversations I had with my friends Derek Williams and Tim Loulies. I had done some very geeky material at one of Tim’s open mic shows and the mixed reaction drove me nuts - when the audience was geeky, they laughed HARD. When they weren’t, well, it was awkward.

Derek, Tim and I shared the same passion and we got along really well, so we planned to launch a geek-themed stand-up show. Soon, things ballooned beyond our expectations. The Virginia Beach Funny Bone backed the idea and gave us a date for the show. We lined up a roster of comics with the right material, and Geek Night Comedy was born.

We went into overdrive on publicity. In addition to securing the Funny Bone, Tim was a marketing machine. He had posters at every relevant location. He lined up sponsors to provide prizes. He drove all over the place spreading the word. Derek lives the geek life. He brought word to the geek community and helped us shape the show. I used my PR chops to get us mainstream news coverage. 

Members of the local 501st Legion, the most amazing Star Wars costume-makers you have ever seen, committed to attending the show and appeared in costume.

The first show was a big success. Tim, Derek and I were joined by David Carter, CB Wilkins and James Rodatus to round out the debut lineup.

The audience was unlike any I had ever experienced - they got ALL the jokes. The laughed louder than any audience I had ever heard. By the time my set was over, I found myself wishing every audience was populated entirely of geeks.

The show proved its worth to the Funny Bone and we’ve been privileged to enjoy an uninterrupted run of nearly quarterly shows since inception. 

We’ve also gotten to take the brand on the road, performing at conventions such as AwesomeCon and Tidewater Comicon, and other clubs like the Orlando Improv.

The challenge has always been to keep our energy up and keep marketing the show while keeping up with the rest of our busy lives. It’s tough - Tim had so much going on, he had to back out of the partnership last year to focus on his other projects. Without Tim there would have been no Geek Night, so it was tough to lose him, but I’ve also been really proud of the time and effort Tim has put into his own standup career - we’ve always kept the stage open for him!

Derek is the best partner and friend a guy could ask for. Geek Night is a way of life for him and he’s the heart and soul of our shows. 

And there’s the comics. Lots of comics. We’ve had plenty of people come and go on Geek Night shows over the years. We’ve also had tons of people ask. Believe me, we give serious consideration to every comic who asks. We’re also very protective of our audience and our reputation. If we don’t know enough about a comic, we will take the time to go watch an audition set. 

If you don’t make the lineup, don’t feel bad. I might be because you’re too cool. I mean, it is a show for geeks. 

It’s actually been challenging to build and maintain a roster of geeky comics who can not only join us at the Funny Bone, but also travel if we pick up convention or road work. 

Now that you have the background, I encourage you to GO TO A GEEK NIGHT SHOW! As a matter of fact, this blog is publishing on Wednesday, June 26, and there just so happens to be one TONIGHT at the Virginia Beach Funny Bone (hint hint).

Can’t make that one? Plan ahead. The next show is going to be our 8th Anniversary Show. It’ll be big. Keep an eye on our Facebook page for the date. 

Remember - any show can be successful if you have a willing audience and if you put the work in. 

[sidbridgecomedy]

Getting Heckled

One of the most frustrating aspects of stand-up comedy is the perception among audience members that heckling is welcome or even “improves the show”.

I once invited someone to come see me at the Funny Bone and her response was “I don’t know - I really need to brush up on my heckling before I go to another comedy show.”

Heckling has been depicted as part of stand-up in movies and on TV shows - often times with the heckler being the hero! (Looking at you, Nutty Professor)

As a comic it can be maddening. Nobody is standing over my dentist’s shoulder shouting “You scale like a bitch! And why are you wearing crocs?!” But somehow, without fail, some idiot will show up at a comedy show and try to grab his or her 15 minutes of fame.

This topic has been written on hundreds of times by comics way more successful then me, but I’m still giving you my take because it’s my blog, and maybe I’ll have a thought or two you might find helpful.

So... what does one do?

With hecklers, there isn’t a definite answer. As a comedian, you need to know your own strengths and utilize them to your advantage. If you’re good at thinking on your feet - if you trust your instincts, follow them.

In my opinion, the most important part of managing hecklers is minimizing their theft of your time. You’re the one being paid (hopefully) to make people laugh on that stage and you should protect every second of that time as best you can. If a heckler can’t be straight-up ignored, my goal is to shut them down as quickly and sharply as possible and then immediately drawing the audience’s attention away from them.

Grab the first thought that comes to your brain, fire that thought at the heckler like it’s a crossbow dart, then dive right back into your planned set, shifting yourself to part of the stage where the heckler isn’t facing and engaging the audience on the other side of the room. That’s the best case scenario. 

Of course, we don’t always get the best case. If the heckler keeps going, make a quick plan - you can give them three strikes - that means, do the crossbow dart technique twice, then on the third strike, don’t be afraid to get more explicit. Tell them bluntly to shut up and be prepared to call the staff over to reinforce your threat.

Again, everyone should respond according to his or her own gifts. If you’re naturally awesome at crowd work and you don’t mind diverting from your set to ruin a heckler, then go for it. If you’re a rookie at crowd work, I guarantee engaging the heckler will end in disaster.

Here’s a rundown of other techniques and their pros/cons:

1. Completely ignore the heckler - This can be effective because it denies the heckler the attention he wants, but some of these people are relentless, and your set could suffer if the audience is half paying attention to you and half to the heckler.

2. Insult the living s**t our of the heckler - This can shut the heckler up and get a huge positive response from the audience when you call someone out for being a douche. However, size the heckler up first - I’ve seen comics get assaulted because a heckler couldn’t take an insult. Also be really sure the audience will agree. If the heckler has any angle that may garner sympathy, be careful as the audience may turn on you.

3. Call the bouncer/Tell them to leave - This will likely fix the problem, but it may take a while for staff to negotiate with the person - and the heckler may get a second chance if he promises to stop. If there is no bouncer, you’re going to have to take time away dealing with it - either way, the interruption to your set will be significant.

4. Let them talk - Ok, don’t do this. Sometimes it might seem tempting because the heckler might actually be funny, or you might want to let the heckler prove he’s a huge idiot conclusively to the crowd. Don’t give away your time, no matter how tempting it is.

It’s also important to understand why someone is heckling. I already covered the ethos of the heckler - many people believe that it’s okay to talk back and it’s fun to become part of the show. All we can do is spread the word as best we can to combat this. That means the host - especially at a bar show or an open mic show - should lay the law down with the crowd explicitly before the show starts, and again during the show if the crowd isn’t listening or new people show up.

Sometimes people heckle for other reasons:

1. They don’t want to be there and they just want to chat with their friends while the show is going on.

2. They can’t stop checking their cell phones.

3. They are trying to get a waiter’s attention.

4. They came as a group for a party.

5. They underestimated their alcohol tolerance and can’t control themselves.

6. You said something that really pissed them off.

Most of those things you don’t have control over. Sometimes we do comedy at bars and the patrons weren’t expecting a show. Telling them they can’t talk to their friends and they have to listen to your jokes could actually be ruining their evening, leaving them feeling entitled to ruin yours.

A drunk can’t be reasoned with and can be difficult to control. A party is all about the person whose birthday it is (or whatever) - they want to be the star of their own evening and you should do your best not to take that away from them. The club makes money off of serving food and drinks, so it’s also important to be patient with someone shouting for a waiter.

As far as pissing people off, you do have a responsibility to read the room. If you tell a joke where Democrats are the good guys and the room clams up or boos, don’t tell another joke like that. Unless you’re super advanced and really good at making people laugh at stuff they disagree with (I’ve seen people who can do this and it’s amazing), don’t keep antagonizing the people who are supposed to laugh at your jokes. People get belligerent over things like religion and politics. Be ready to change gears if you don’t want to get yelled at or attacked.

Heckling most frustrates me at my open mic shows. Most headliners and features have experience dealing with it. Open mic comics, on the other hand, often don’t have the benefit of experience and they get very, very little time. Taking away 30 seconds to shut down a heckler could mean the loss of a big portion of their set time to an idiot. If you’re trying to work on material at an open mic, resist the temptation to break from your plan to address the heckler. Hopefully the staff or the host will be there to quietly confront the heckler off stage to try and minimize the impact on your set. If you really, really want to respond, just understand that it’s going to be your whole set. I know when I’m open mic host, it’s rare that I have the extra time to give out an extra minute or two to a comic who surrendered his time to a heckler.

Also, if you brought a big group of friends to see you at an open mic show, take a few minutes to make sure they know that heckling is bad. If they hear it from you in addition to the host, they will be more likely to listen.

If you’re a non-comic and you’re reading this, PLEASE DON’T HECKLE. Please tell your friends not to heckle. And please know that if you heckle, you’re a douche. If you heckle at an open mic show, you’re the worst person in the world and you shouldn’t be allowed to consume live entertainment. 

We’re a long way away from world peace and unity, but if one person pledges never to heckle a comedy show, we’ve taken a big step closer.

As a postscript, here are a few personal heckler stories:

1. My very first guest set at Cozzy’s was on a show with Darryl Rhoades and Dan Whitehurst (to this day, two of my favorite people to work with - Always there with excellent feedback and they bring tons of energy to the stage). A woman got super drunk and her laugh was the most bizarre thing I have ever heard. After I told a joke, I had to wait for her to finish shouting her laugh at the top of her lungs - HYEW HYAW HYEY HYEW - HYEW YOU FUNNY! HYAW HYAW!!! I was still a rookie, so I did the best I could - I picked my pace up, leaving less time between jokes for the laughter, and moved my focus to the side of the room where she wasn’t. The staff quieted this woman numerous times, and Darryl and Dan each dealt with it in their own way. Darryl did call her out on stage and it was pretty hilarious, and when the staff offered to kick her out, he told them to let her stay - gutsy and courteous!

2. This is one I actually use as part of my set - a woman showed up and signed up for open mic night. She was obnoxious. Her set was terrible. And she spent the evening running her mouth and doing lewd things. I finally had to draw the line when she exposed herself in the club and asked the bartender to close her tab. She really did try to confront me - she happened to be of Arab descent and accused me of kicking her out because I was Jewish. My comic friends really did form a human wall (ask Derek Williams. He was part of the wall) while the bartender kicked her out. While she was outside, she exposed herself to the comics again, just the lower part this time. Good times.

3. An extremely drunk redneck showed up at open mic and signed up as “Fisherman.” I think Jounte Ferguson taped his set if you want to watch it. It was an open mic train wreck on a level you only see once every few years. He also heckled constantly, and I went over to him several times to try and shut him up (politely). One of those times, he grabbed my arm and held on for a while to give me an earful about how he’s a fisherman or something. I don’t know. I just wanted to get away. I wasn’t able to get him out of the bar that night, and I actually ended up staying behind a while to make sure he had left before I ventured into the parking lot. 

4. I was closing Sunday Funnies at Cozzy’s once, and I brought a group of friends. One of my friends heckled a joke and I went into automatic heckler mode and shut him down just as quickly and decisively as I would have done with a regular audience member. Then it hit me that I had just shut my friend down from on stage, so I added a quick “There goes a friendship” after I did it, which actually lead to a really big laugh and no hard feelings. 

5. I was doing a set at my own open mic, and a couple was sitting at stage left. They had been talking to each other and ignoring the entire show. I decided to see how oblivious they were - I have a joke that picks a couple in the crowd and focuses on them. I picked that couple and did they joke while they were ignoring me *as if they weren’t ignoring me*. The further I went, the louder the laughs got as this poor couple didn’t realize they were being singled out through the entire joke. They later apologized profusely for their behavior and enjoyed the rest of the show.

[sidbridgecomedy]

Take an Improv Class

Like a lot of stand-up comics, I entered stand-up focusing on one thing - stand-up comedy. 

There’s a lot more to comedy.

Let’s face it, stand-up is a self-centered art-form. When you’re on stage, your entire goal is to showcase yourself. You’re the hero, you’re the idiot, you’re the observer, you’re the judge... you, you, YOU. 

A little grounding isn’t a bad thing. If I had to pick one main weakness in my early (and even my current) stand-up, it’s stage presence. I was never an actor. I didn’t know how to use the stage, how to emote or how to be larger than life like an actor.

One day, Brad McMurran from the Push Comedy Theater made an offer for stand-up comics to come take Improv 101. A lot of us were participating in short-form improv already, and he wanted to help us all learn to do improv the right way. I jumped at the opportunity because I saw it as a way to fill in the stage awareness that I was missing.

It did A LOT more than that. Improv differs from stand-up in a few major ways:

1. You CANNOT take the stage with a plan. It always backfires and ruins the moment. Stand-up requires a plan and is usually terrible without it.

2. It’s not about you. On an improv stage, your goal is to make your teammates look good. You’re not the center of attention, the group is.

3. It’s more of an academic pursuit than stand-up. Teachers at the Push Theater speak fondly of all the schools where they’ve learned the craft  as if they have been to major universities, and it shows. While stand-up is learned on the stage, improv requires a well-rounded education with plenty of advanced techniques in order to be consistently successful.

One of my strengths as a performer is that I typically never experience stage fright. Crowds just don’t bother me and staring down the stage lights was never scary at all... until I tried improv. Performing in an improv show was my first taste of stage fright. Taking the stage without knowing what was about to happen was actually terrifying to me - what if I couldn’t think of anything funny? What if I wasn’t aggressive enough to know where to jump in? What if I was too aggressive and didn’t make my team look good? 

Improv 101 at The Push taught me that there was more to the stage than a microphone and a stool. I learned to build the scene around myself using my own imagination and bring my teammates into that imaginary scene. I learned to react to the moment. I also learned to get over my own fear of embarrassing myself in order to make a scene or emotion larger than life. In stand-up we have to bare our souls to our audience. If you can’t embarrass yourself with reckless abandon, you’re missing out on a big way to connect.

I went on to take Improv 201 and, under Alba’s guidance, we learned the intricate long-form structure of The Harold, a type of improv that’s more akin to making up an entire play on the spot than just being a bunch of spewers of jokes. My attempts to grasp the Harold were a stark reminder of how different improv and stand-up are, and my respect for improv as a discipline grew. It was complicated. There was a lot to remember on stage while you’re crafting a scene in your head. You had to be prepared to step way out of your comfort zone.

It was during my time in Improv 101 that I won my first Clash of the Comics at the Virginia Beach Funny Bone. I attribute part of that win to the stage awareness I learned at The Push. 

My message to aspiring stand-ups is this: Stand-up is just one planet in an entire galaxy of comedy. Sometimes you need to jump in a rocketship and see what’s going on at the other planets, like the improv planet, the sketch planet, the youtube planet - you name it. It may not be your main discipline, but taking the time to learn other forms of comedy will make your stand-up better. 

[sidbridgecomedy]

Form a Writing Group

I’ve been really bad about this topic lately, so I’m writing about it to inspire myself as well as others. Maintaining a constant flow of funny and creative ideas is possibly the most difficult part of being a comedian.

For some, ideas flow freely. Some people easily see the quirks of everyday life and quickly write them down. For others... well, sometimes life just doesn’t come through with a good insane or ironic moment. Sometimes you find the premise but you just can’t figure out how to make it funny.

This is where your friends come in. The best writing groups, in my experience, use a simply formula:

1. Write the premise at the top of a page. 2. Pass the paper to the person on your right. 3. Set a timer for five or ten minutes. 4. Write every idea you have about your friend’s premise. 5. Pass to the right again. 6. Repeat until everyone in the group has written on the premise.

Your group needs to have a foundation of trust for this plan to work, by the way. Everything you write down about someone else’s premise is your gift to them. Be as selfless as possible here as you’ll be receiving just as much as you give away.

When you start writing, write down every idea. Mike Easmeil, one of the most brilliant comics I have ever met, once told me that the brain sometimes works like a queue. The good ideas may be waiting in line behind the crappy ones. Write the crappy idea down, no matter how crappy you think it is. Once it’s out of the way, better ideas will come.

You’ll also find some rhythm in the creativity. Once you’re in “writing mode” ideas will flow faster. Sure, you can get there by yourself, but having friends with you will accelerate and turbo charge the process.

Once the group is done, everyone gets to read the contributions from the group, then point out what they loved the most. Always be positive - remember, there might be crap on that page just because the bad idea needed to get out.

Also, there might just be plain, unadulterated garbage on that page. Not everyone writes from the same perspective and not all of your friends will understand your unique view on life. Even if the material doesn’t work for you, the effort counts.

It’s important to maintain an open mind about who you write with. You might be surprised by who “gets you” the most. I’ve had the pleasure of being on shows with Brendan Kennedy for years. He’s a funny guy whose style is pretty different from mine. He also has given me some of the best ideas the few times we got to sit and write together. Give everyone a chance, but then again...

When you share a writing group with the world, a lot of people may show up who don’t have a complete grasp of stand-up comedy yet. They should be welcomed, but too many beginners can make the process frustrating.

It may not be the most PC approach in the world, but here’s my suggestion - find people you enjoy sharing writing time with and set up your group. If you can, make it a practice to invite one or two new comics on a one-off basis to shake things up a bit.

As a group, our local comics should do open writing sessions with some regularity. The Virginia Beach Funny Bone hosted these for a while during the day on Saturday or Sunday and they were great at first, but attendance fizzled. Our local comedy clubs have always been accommodating when it comes to giving comics creative space to write. I would love to see these sessions get going again some time.

If your friends don’t get to see it, make sure you let them know how the material went over on stage. Every idea from a fellow comic is a huge gift and should be treated the same way you would treat a tangible present. With plenty of gratitude and lots of healthy use.

#comedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

Finding Your Voice

If you’re at all serious about comedy, at some point you’ve been lectured about “Finding your voice” and how long it takes. I’ve heard everything from ten years to three years to “that’s bulls**t.”

The truth (at least as I see it), is that you do need time to find your voice. It’s a pretty vague statement, though. What the hell does it mean? I can explain part of it, but for the rest... you’re gonna be on your own.

Here’s the thing - and this applies whether you’re funny from the first time you set foot on the stage or if you are bombing night after night - you have to get comfortable baring your soul to strangers.

Sometimes people are immediately funny. I’ve seen plenty of first-timers rock the room - but there’s usually something missing. The tendency of a rookie is to gravitate straight for the funny shortcut. That could mean telling dick jokes. It could mean picking any hacky premise - farting, sex talk, airline food, whatever BS is trending on Twitter - you name it - and it may be well-executed and funny. It’s just not YOU.

Here’s some food for thought until I give the cold hard answer:

1. Telling the dick jokes may help. Using the easy premise to build a command of comedy fundamentals may help you apply them to more creative ideas. (Can’t say I recommend it, so don’t quote me on this one).

2. Presenting an undeveloped premise that’s more personal at an open mic is better and more challenging, even if you are likely to bomb. 

3. Writing copiously about anything you experience or have experienced - whether it’s funny or not - will open your eyes a bit.

4. Watching other comics and seeing how they do it is great.

5. Watching audiences react to you and other comics is enlightening.

The truth?

Time.

For some people it could come quickly. A year. For most, three years. For others, especially perfectionists - ten years.

What exact did you find? Your essence. You found a way to share a piece of your life that is uniquely yours. You found a way to take a piece of the mundane and reorient it from your own unique perspective. And you did it in a way that the audience relates to easily.

I wrote at the beginning of this article that you’re on your own for some of this. That’s because there’s something else. There’s an intangible.

I can’t describe it very well because... it’s intangible.

The best demonstration I can give you is watch a headliner. Then go watch the host from the same show. Now go to a showcase and watch the comics who got guest spots. Now go to an open mic and watch the new people.

There’s going to be a difference you can’t quite put your finger on that means everything. It’s why the headliner commands every second of his or her stage time - maintains a pace, an engagement, a density of laughs per minute and more - yet the open mic comic doesn’t quite have it.

It’s literally something that can’t be taught. One day, if you keep working your ass off, you just step on stage and it starts to come together. It all just clicks. But it can take years... and for some, it may never happen.

What should you do?

1. Keep at it. You’re doing great.

2. Or quit. I’m not enough of a schmuck to tell you when it’s time to call it a day, but sometimes people mistake a love of stand-up comedy for the ability to do stand-up comedy. Don’t be afraid to be real with yourself.

3. Be patient. Roll with the punches.

4. Watch your set. Are you seeing YOU on stage, or does the person in the video seem like a stranger. 

5. Break the ice. Take a difficult moment from your life and figure out how to talk about it. Or take a moment where you embarrassed the crap out of yourself. Make it a joke.

6. Don’t get frustrated. 

This column is deliberately vague because I can’t position myself as an expert. There are still plenty of times where I feel like I’m being fake or I’m not connecting. Sometimes I resort to telling jokes that aren’t thought provoking or not personal enough just because I want to have something in my arsenal for a specific crowd. (I have weed jokes. I assure you my experience with weed is pitifully minimal). 

I guess what I want to leave you with is this: If you have frustrations or anxiety about finding your voice... we all do. I’m happy to talk about it. Sometimes just getting that anxiety out can help you find yourself. Or, pick any comic you look up to and talk to them. You’d be surprise to learn about their struggles as well. 

[sidbridgecomedy]

Should I Take a Stand-Up Class?

Stand-up comedy classes are a hotly debated topic among comics at all experience levels. Usually we’re guilty of oversimplifying this and answering in absolutes:

1. Stand-up classes are bad because you can get all the experience you need from doing open mics!

or...

2. You will never succeed in this business without a stand-up comedy class!

The following is just my opinion - lots of people will disagree, but as a guy who took a stand-up class, I favor them if you have the luxury of being able to afford it and if you do your homework on the class.

Let’s get some misconceptions out of the way:

1. Stand-up classes don’t make you funny. They help you find the funny in yourself (if it’s there).

2. The teacher doesn’t need to be a big famous guy or someone who knows tons of famous comics. The teacher needs to understand the craft, the science and the etiquette AND be able to communicate it to his or her students. That’s it.

A good stand-up class has a number of positive outcomes:

1. You learn to hone your material faster. 2. You learn not to make stupid rookie mistakes. 3. You WILL end up on stage in front of a nice crowd at your graduation.

These things (and maybe a few others that I left out) will accelerate your progress in the comedy realm. If you’re just getting started, it’ll cut months off of creating that essential first five-minute set. If you’ve been doing it a while, it’ll help you understand what you could be doing better and push you to the next level.

A bad stand-up class, well... That’ll just make you think you’re awesome when you suck. Sorry if you took a bad class - sadly, it will set you back as much as a good class pushes you forward. If you tell a host “I’m a graduate of the comedy class at Big Ass New York Comedy Club” and then you suck, the host is going to hate you almost as much as he hated your set.

Our comedy scene is blessed with a couple of great classes. First I’ll give a shout out to my brother-in-comedy Tim Loulies, who runs the Funny Bone Comedy School. Aside from the essentials of comedy theory, Tim understands the etiquette and personalities of our local comedy scene. His education gives his students an edge when it comes to integrating into local mics and performing at local clubs and bars. He also takes damn good care of his students, making sure they get the most positive experience whether it’s on the Funny Bone stage or anywhere else. 

Over at The Push Comedy Theater, Hatton Jordan also teaches an excellent stand-up class. Hatton is not only experienced, he’s also the most lovable guy you’ll ever meet. In general, the Push Theater is a great environment for all types of comedy and a tight-knit family of performers. Learning stand-up there with get you on stage and network you with some great people.

I can’t speak for any other classes (pretty sure those are the only two in town). Most of the bad experiences I’ve seen are from big cities where some “comics” might be trying to leverage their “experience” or the name of the club that hosts their class in order to make a quick buck. Always do your homework if you are thinking about going somewhere like New York City to take a class. Ask around from other local comics if you can and get some feedback before you part with your cash.

If you don’t have the cash, that’s ok. You can totally survive comedy without taking a class - remember, I’m recommending classes as a career accelerator, not a gateway to comedy. Open Mics are (usually) free and you can learn everything you need to learn at them. Plus, even though you will screw up a lot more, those screw ups will help you grow as a comic. And believe me, plenty of veteran comics don’t mind hanging around at an open mic and doling out advice to whoever will listen.

Oh, and I mentioned that I took a class. Yep. I did. My classmates included some really funny people - two of whom you can still see on stage all the time - Kyle Phalen and Brent Schreiber. I definitely learned how to hone my material and trim the fat from my jokes, but for me it overcame a serious personal problem. While I’ve never had stage fright, I did have some anxiety about asking for stage time. That’s right - I was more scared of signing up for an open mic than I was of going on stage. Since graduation was an actual show, it was an entry to the stage that made it much easier to start seeking stage time. Had it not been for the class, I may never have tried an open mic.

#comedy

[sidbridgecomedy]

Respect the Road Dogs

Road Dogs. It’s a term of endearment for comedians who have been through hell and back. They’ve sacrificed everything to be a road comic. If you’re just starting out, you have no idea - heck, your first conversation with a Road Dog might be a little off-putting, but that’s okay.

Road Dog comics are a dying breed. Since stand-up became a thing, there have been brave souls who decided to do it for a living, knowing that it may not provide much cash to live off of. Unfortunately, a lot of the clubs that booked them have disappeared and the remaining ones can’t afford to increase the pay for being a headliner.

Many have retired from comedy or gone part-time while taking a day job to make ends meet. The stories are often the same from the ones who still live by the road - Sleeping in the car, living on next to nothing, straining relationships with family, and watching that car quickly rack up 300+ thousand miles in short order are just a few of the challenges faced by Road Dogs.

It’s important to invest the time in earning the respect of a comic who made these sacrifices - even if you don’t plan to do so. Is there anyone who appreciates the stage more than the person who gave up everything for it?

“But Sid,” I hear you asking, “This guy was mean to me! I am just a fragile rose petal and he tore my head off because I was half a minute late and bombed on stage!”

Okay. Here’s a few reasons why you got your head torn off by a Road Dog:

1. He wants to see if you REALLY want to do this. This guy has literally seen 100′s of wannabe comics come and go. He knows there’s a 90% chance you’ll be gone in a year. Kind hard to invest the time in being your friend if that’s the case.

2. Your bad comedy can actually take money out of his pocket. Let’s say you’ve been doing comedy for six months and you think you’re so awesome you’re going to start a room. Sadly, you’re not awesome. You’re mediocre at best. Your buddy owns “Butt Shaker’s Bar & Grill” and he’s allowed you to host an open mic for you and your friends. When you put on a crappy show at your buddy’s restaurant, the audience assumes most comedy sucks and thinks twice before paying to go see it when Mr. Road Dog is on stage. So yeah, he’s salty.

3. He once lost out on a gig because he was 30 seconds late. I guarantee you this has happened. What kind of an example is he setting for you if he doesn’t help you learn and avoid the same mistakes he made?

4. He wants you to work hard: If you are challenged to get better at comedy so you can earn a spot on a show with Mr. Road Dog, maybe you’ll work harder and be a better comic. If he just books you anyway without making it a little difficult will you know when you’re sucking? 

A personal example for me was when Dan Ellison ran shows at the Cinema Cafe in Pembroke. The room was packed week after week and 25-30 comics were requesting time on a show that only had slots for 14-16. Dan reserved a couple of spots for struggling new comics, but if you wanted consistent stage time in front of a hot audience, you had to work hard, get better and pay attention.

For me it was extremely formative. Every rejection was a reminder that I had a lot of work to do. I eked out some extra time to squeeze in another workshop show and busted my ass to understand and resonate with that audience.

The payoff was amazing - I learned confidence, effective stage time management, audience development, how to fix/own up to mistakes, and how to best apply the fundamentals of comedy - all because I took the time to listen and understand when a Road Dog was trying to help me - whether he was being nice or not.

And often they’re not. You will definitely find yourself wanting to disagree with certain things you hear, even their approach to the stage. You might even feel threatened. And you don’t have to take it. You can choose to walk away. Just remember that comedy is a relationship business and having an open mind and an open ear will most likely come back to help you in the future.

Sometimes it won’t. I once had the opportunity to meet Gallagher (yeah, the watermelon smashing guy) and he got in my face. Demanded I tell him my opening joke and proceeded to rip it (and me) to shreds. Gallagher will never do me any favors, but I got a cool story out of it, so I guess that was a win. I wasn’t going to argue with him. He had a sledgehammer.

As I mentioned, Road Dogs are a dying breed, so if you’re serious about comedy, it’s your responsibility to grab any opportunity you can to learn from them. Listen to the stories (the stories are often AMAZING), listen to the advice, ask questions and try out some of that “Yes and...” technique you learned in your improv class. It’s worth your time.

[sidbridgecomedy]

Yom HaShoah and Comedy

Since it’s Yom HaShoah, or Holocaust Memorial Day, I’m going to address an issue that a lot of comics have strong feelings about. Should I make that Holocaust joke?

No.

To be honest, I usually don’t do much to mark this date as I feel that Tisha B’Av is our true day to remember victims of the Holocaust and every other tragic time throughout history when Jews have been mass murdered. (There’s a lot of them, unfortunately).

This year I feel it’s a bit different because I’ve seen a lot more people targeting Jews with hatred both worldwide and in my own backyard. Antisemitism is alive and well, so we should take every opportunity available to us to educate and remind people that Jews are still the target of hatred across the globe.

So... Holocaust jokes. Hell, I have a couple of bits that reference the subject - mainly lampooning what happens when I have to experience a Holocaust joke. To be fair, I’ve heard very, very funny jokes about it. I have to admit the most uncomfortable part for me is when a comic tells a Holocaust joke on stage and everyone looks at me and starts checking to see if I’m okay. I didn’t lose any family in the Holocaust - it most definitely factored into how my family ended up in America, but no further.

That’s part of the new tragedy of the Holocaust - survivors are dwindling. I’ve talked to many and heard plenty of first and second hand stories about the atrocities - Mengele’s experiments, mass murders, babies tossed in a bag and left to freeze to death, people digging their own graves - you name it. But the people who saw that stuff happen will be all gone soon.

It’s easy to tell someone not to do a rape joke (some will never get the message unfortunately) because there’s a near 100% chance that someone in your audience has been impacted by a sexual assault. Whether your joke is funny or not, you will hurt somebody while telling it. Since statistically speaking, women make the decision to go see a comedy show and to go a second time, you should be extra careful not to be a complete pig to them on stage.

Your chances of having a survivor (or even the kid of a survivor) in your audience when you tell your crappy Holocaust joke aren’t so good, so you may feel like no harm’s been done. What’s more concerning is that what starts out as your joke may turn into the spark that ignites the prejudices brewing in your audience. 

Also, humor has a de-mystifying effect. It’s a powerful tool when used correctly - it can help you and your audience deal with grief, pain or any other difficulty. It can also take a serious subject that should be serious and turn it into a joke. Six million Jews died in the Holocaust. That’s an indisputable fact. If you want to make a joke questioning that total, aside from being wrong, you’re making others feel better about questioning the true extend of such a huge tragedy. You’re giving the world permission to spread one of the most disgusting lies of our time. In short - bad idea.

The internet brings out the worst in us and it’s hard to watch people feel okay to deny the Holocaust - and then watch the natural outgrowth - the recent increased accusations that Jewish money has significant influence on governmental policy. Whether true or not, that’s the kind of talk that led to the Holocaust in the first place. (Not going to get into how much Jewish money does influence government other than to say that EVERY major ethnic/religious/whatever group lobbies and spends gobs of money on it. If it truly made a difference I haven’t seen it yet).

Look, you ARE allowed to say whatever the venue allows you to say on stage. If you’re in a dive bar ambushing drunk people who only came to be drunk with comedy and the owners/audience like your edgy jokes, you have a right to give them what they want. I can’t (nor should I) censor you. I can only appeal to human decency - use your brain. Have a heart. Think about the power of your words and use them to do some good while you’re making people laugh.

I pray that G-d shows us all the way and helps us to find the power within ourselves to live harmoniously together and put an end to baseless hatred everywhere. Until then, just try to write some funny jokes, dammit.

#yom hashoah #comedy