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Tuesday, February 7, 2012

We Probably Aren't Friends


friend  |frend| noun. a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.
acquaintance  |əˈkwāntns|
noun. a person one knows slightly, but who is not a close friend
My theory: I don’t have to like you to like your comedy; and because I like you doesn’t mean I like your comedy.
I have been doing comedy for two years now, and I can honestly say I love it more than anything I have ever done (sorry Ashley). Despite the seemingly singular nature of stand-up comedy it is in many ways a “team sport,” there are many teams, most of them working contrary of any goal other than self promotion. Teams are not named but you can see them in the back of the room of any open mic, huddled up and chatting while comedians they don’t favor are on stage, while listening attentively to their team mates, waiting offstage to give a congratulatory handshake or high five, regardless of performance. The “teams” spend time patting each other on the back, and making sure everyone on the team is on as many shows as possible.
My group is small but we are all friends. Friends outside of comedy, meaning we don’t see each other exclusively at shows. What’s weird about friendships within comedy is how fickle they are, you want to be appealing to the team booking shows, so regardless of how nice a person you are, it isn’t in your best interest to be friends with everyone. That said, I like most  of the guys in the scene, some guys and girls I don’t like, but that comes with almost any large mass of people. I work my ass off and still get passed on for MOST shows in the area, despite constantly having fresh material, doing consistently well on stage, getting work at comedy clubs, and maintaining a decent social networking presence. 
Now I know not every comic can do every show, both shows I put on, I had to bump at least one good comic just for pacing reasons. But the fact that I can do consistently well, and not get booked speaks to me not conforming to whatever the other team deems a comedian. I still get dismissed because guys think I am some guy who “just does crowd work.” This used to bug me until I realized that that comment can’t come from any place other than jealousy. Being funny in the moment (to me) is a far greater (and more useful) skill than being funny with jokes you have done for 3 years. That said, I am STILL telling the first joke I ever did on stage (in a greatly modified fashion), and I write bits every single day. And I don’t do crowd work every show I do, as a matter of fact when I emcee I am specifically told NOT to do it, and I still get asked to return.
The above bothers me because despite whatever preconceived notions people have about me, I genuinely do like doing shows with most of the people in the city. I get that I have an ego, and my stage persona comes off as some one who thinks the world is beneath him (supposedly), but the reality of the situation is I am just a guy in a small market fighting to do the same 2 or 3 shows a week we all fight to do. 
My point in all of this? I love doing shows, and assuming they are decently organized, I can get to them, and they have a decent crowd of people who wouldn’t mind laughing I will do most shows. I am doing shows next week where I don’t like 4 of the guys I am working with (spread out over two shows) but I still trust 3 of them to deliver laughs and make some comedy happen.

Call me weird, but I am doing this thing where I see past teams, and look at ability. I don’t have to like Nathan Joyner to trust him to put on a good show, as it happens I like Nathan a lot. But even if I didn’t, the way shows happen in this town, I should still be able to follow and open for him. At this stage of the game we can’t really pick our coworkers. 

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