“There's no such thing as fun for the whole family.”
- Jerry Seinfeld
The few people who know me well know that I am a passionate follower of the art of stand up comedy. I've been in love with it ever since I saw my first examples in the late 60s, early 70s on the Tonight Show. I consider it the purest entertainment form. It's just you and a microphone on a stage. People either laugh or they don't. It's a high wire act, it's death-defying.
Back in the day, the only place to hear or see stand ups were on comedy albums or the occasional TV appearance. By my early teens I owned several comedy albums that I wore out, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Bill Cosby, et al. I also kept alert for TV sightings. This was before the day of VCRs so you had to catch things in real time. If you missed something, it was gone forever.
By the early 80s, comedy clubs started to pop up around the country. Every decent-sized city had one or two. This was heaven for me. Again, this was before Youtube or Netflix or any options like that. If you wanted to experience stand up, you had to physically go. We had a club in my college town and a couple in Memphis when I moved there in ‘86. I was young and had enough money to cover the two-drink minimums; you could find me in the audience quite often. I’ve been fortunate enough to see a few of the big names over the years in large theatres. They're enjoyable, for sure, but the real rush is in the trenches of the small-time clubs. Typically, on any given night there would be three comics, a warm up person, a mid-liner and a “Headliner.” Seldom would any of these people be know quantities, even the headliner. Who knew what you were gonna get? That was part of the thrill. Who was gonna bomb and who was gonna knock you out?
Over the years I've seen some memorable disasters and some people who went on to be quite well known. It's a tough business, though. A few of the acts I saw “made it” but most, I'm sure, fizzled out and ended up in insurance or retail sales.
Here's one of my favorite memories of those years. This was probably around 1985 at the club in Springfield, MO where I went to undergrad. On this night, as usual, I had no idea who any of the three guys on the bill were. When the headliner was announced, he comes walking out to the mic, center stage. But, he's not walking in a normal way, he is walking in what is clearly the gate of a person with cerebral palsy. The crowd applauded but with some unease. Remember, this was the 80s, there were absolutely zero PC guardrails; was this part of the guys act? If so, pretty audacious. He thanks the audience and then he says. “Well, I like to get this out of the way right up front…I have a disability…I have a degree in economics.”
Mic drop, best opening ever. I remember nothing else about his act but the guy with cerebral palsy is in my comedy hall of fame.
There are a few brilliant acts I never got to see and I won't because they're gone, Richard Pryor, Mitch Hedberg, Bill Hicks, Richard Lewis, Sam Kinison, Andy Kaufman. All of them gone too soon. One who's still around that's on my list, Maria Bamford. I'd actually stay out late to see her. That's saying something.
Birthdays in Music: Leslie West - Guitarist/Mississippi Queen
Name That Movie: “Oh, don't sell yourself short, Judge, you're a tremendous slouch.”
RP