Friday, August 10, 2012

First Final 30 Feet podcast

As part of an online class I am taking, I made a podcast.

It's horrible. TRULY HORRIBLE.

But it will get better.


I hope.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Who am I to judge?


Blogging is a lot harder than I imagined it to be.

I had made one other post, which I apparently forgot to publish and then accidentally deleted it when I realized it never went up. So not only have I failed to update weekly as was my original intention, I wasted extra time making up a heartfelt update and then weeks later sending it to a virtual trash can without giving anyone a chance to see it.

Also, I am too dumb to figure out how to get said update out of the virtual trash can. Meh.

My plan had been to update by watching each set I've done, linking it here and then critiquing it. Where I was and how I was able to preform there. What I thought I did wrong and what I thought I did well. 

That's going to have to put that on the back burner for now. Something else is rattling around in my brain at the moment.

I'm not sure how to go about doing this; I am no great writer. I don't want to mention names because things like this have bitten me in the ass before. But I just have to get this off my chest, send it out into the void and see how it resonates with those who read it. 

The other day, a local comedian asked other local comedians to help him out with a simple favor. He wanted to do a 5 minute guest spot for Patton Oswalt when he came out to Virginia later this year. He had already contacted the venue, but they said they don't do guest spots unless the headliner requests it. So this young up and comer asked fellow up and comers to tweet Patton Oswalt, hoping to get a chance.

Oswalt was recently lauded by the comedic community for the keynote speech at the Just For Laughs comedy festival, in which he wrote two letters.  One was for young up and coming comedians and the other for those that he called "The Gatekeepers", the managers, the agents and the development executives whose decisions open or close doors for those who reach for the brass ring.

I'd already been a follower of Patton's for awhile and I greatly enjoy his tweets and every time I stumbled onto an appearance of his I had a good time. I really enjoy what he does! The documentary behind his "Comedians of Comedy" tour had been inspiring and educational for me. The message I had taken from it is "Comedians are just people too. People trying to succeed at what they love."

I quickly sent off a tweet. Something I thought would be a little funny and help get that message out there:

"Hi, you don't know me or (other comic's name here), but he would like to open for you in VA. I just want to smell you. That's cool, right?"

I honestly didn't expect much to come from it. I felt good because I might've helped another person get a step closer to their dream. I knew the chances were slim to none, but what did it hurt?

Later, another person in the Baltimore comedy scene mentioned how they had been blocked from viewing Patton's twitter feed. I then wondered at how my feed, which is normally dominated by Patton, had been very quiet. I had a quick moment of fear and then had it realized. I had been blocked as well.

Here's where my brain has trouble figuring out how to feel. On one hand, I didn't know I had done anything that wrong.. just one tweet. But I realize that most likely anyone else that had lent their support to this endeavor had been blocked as well. I can see that it might be annoying to see a spam of one message flooding your connect tab in twitter, but the guy has over eight hundred thousand followers. It couldn't of been THAT out of the norm, could it? I acknowledge the fact that any positive response could start a very annoying precedent, soon anyone that had aspirations would recreate this activity when Patton comes into their area. 

I just feel it could've been handled a different way; perhaps a tweet saying something like "Hey, I heard you but I'm afraid I can't do what you ask. I already have someone else I promised.. I don't want this to become a regular thing.." Or just scroll past these voices on the internet. But I got blocked. I got blocked for tossing out less than 140 characters for someone I don't really know directed at another person I don't really know. Maybe I shouldn't of asked to smell him.

I can still read Mr. Oswalt's tweets on his webpage, if I want to. It's just that I feel confused that the guy who said that the rules of comedy are changing and we can do it on our own if we try became a gatekeeper and shut the door on a group of squeaky voices that called to him.

He told me, "Hey, you. You don't matter to me. And I don't want you to read what I think."

And really, who am I? I'm just some schmoe that's done four open mics. He's been doing this for twenty three years. I guess after gaining eight hundred thousand followers, one person just doesn't mean that much.

Friday, June 29, 2012

In which I explain myself / my stand up debut

Buddy Hackett gave the following advice to young comedians -

“Only take advice from those who have walked the final and most important 30 feet from backstage to alone in front of a mic with nowhere to hide. Then, and only then, will you know the advice comes from reality and not theory. They’ll understand the emotions, the work it takes to get it right. They’ll have made the mistakes and created the laughs, not just read about how to do it.”


I want to be a stand up comedian.

People have, as long as I can remember, told me that I should become one. Friends, family, coworkers and customers. And I've often daydreamed about the stage, the lights and the crowd. But like most, the very idea of actually standing alone and defenseless in front of a group of strangers scared me and kept me from even giving it a try. Until a friend of mine began preforming in the Baltimore area; and this amazed me. I knew this person! They were on stage! How did they do it? Wasn't he terrified?

I picked his brain for several months trying to discover the answers to these questions and from these conversations decided that I had to give it a try. To see if I could do what I had considered impossible for years. He recommended trying T Brad Hudson's open mic: Drink Till We're Funny.

It's located in Timonium at Hightopp's Backstage Grill and T Brad is a class act who doesn't tolerate hecklers. This doesn't mean it's easy however, I had attended twice before and I got the vibe that the audience is almost daring you to make them laugh. I read the new comic FAQ and sent an email expressing my interest.

And on April 22, 2012, I attempted my first open mic. The following video is not work safe and most likely not family safe either; you have been warned.




The night didn't start off too promising; there had been a couple of no shows and it was raining hard. T Brad wanted to give it some time to see if any more stragglers would be coming through the door. Finally at around 9:30, the show began.

I was the sacrificial lamb, and I can honestly say I didn't have a strong opening but was able to find a groove when I started my "neighbor sex" bit. As you can see in the video I had to shake off some nervous energy first thing, lost my flow several times and seemed nervous and rushed. But I felt that I had done relatively well. I hadn't totally lost the crowd or my train of thought. I could do this!

And that brings us to the point of this inaugural blog: I want to share my experiences on this journey. Baltimore isn't known for it's comedy scene and yet many have come from this area. As I find my way, I want to share what I've learned. Where I've preformed and who I've worked with. How I got my spots and what you could expect if you choose to walk the path of the stand up comic. It will also help me to keep myself focused, as I plan to update weekly and being held accountable for a lack of updates will shame me into working harder.