PerspectiveBefore I started doing stand-up myself, I didn’t know any comedians. As far as I knew, nobody I knew knew any comedians. The people who said “You should be a comedian” never followed it up with “You should talk to this guy I know.” Now that I am a comedian, everyone I meet has a friend that is or was a comic.
Case in point: Friday night, waiting for a bus to a club outside of St. Louis, I shared a bus bench with John and Becky, two twentysomething soldiers, recently arrived from their base in Arkansas and preparing to be shipped out to Iraq the next day. They seemed mentally prepared, if not enthusiastic, and I opted not to probe their opinions about the war. I don’t think that vocal opposition to the war is unpatriotic, but telling a soldier about to ship out that you think their mission is a clusterfuck would certainly make one an asshole.
In any event, a good friend of Becky’s is a road comic based in San Antonio who has recently moved up from emcee to feature act. How is this possible? Where were all of these contacts when I was muddling through my day job, kept in place by inertia and a lack of cojones?
The three of us talked about comedy for a while. John thought what I was doing was “brave.” Becky wished me luck and told me that she really appreciates what I (and other comics) do. It was a total mindfuck. Soldiers preparing to enter a war zone think I am brave and are appreciative of the contributions standup comedians make. I laughed sheepishly and returned their good wishes twofold.
Godspeed Becky and John. Come home safe.
