Funny You Should Ask...

With the Sixth Annual Search for the South's Funniest Accountant well underway, my mind turns to the world of stand-up, one that I admittedly have a love/hate relationship with.  When I was in high school, I was performing stand-up at churches, schools, and even a local supper club (that's a whole 'nuther blog post).  Anyway, I either borrowed material from the legends (Newhart, Carlin) or wrote my own hackneyed stuff.  By college, I was doing open mic nights at the Punch Line, Jerry Farber's club, and anyone else who would have me.  I wasn't bad...but I wasn't great.  I think the key was, I was likable enough, and was comfy onstage, so I was ahead of many of the other amateurs in that regard, but I didn't have anything so revolutionary to say that was gonna set me apart from the rest of the dorky white guy regiment that made up a healthy slice of the comedy circuit in the late 80's.  So, in 1990, I took my first improv comedy class and never really looked back at the idea of stand-up again. 

Except on two occasions:  one, I do emcee corporate events, and write customized comedy for those productions, and secondly, every fall I get to coach new comics and then host the showcase for a really cool event called "The Search for the South's Funniest Accountant".  The event, sponsored by Accountants One here in Atlanta, is a dual attempt to (a) raise money for Junior Achievement and (b) prove that accountants aren't all dull pencil pushers.  I gotta admit, some funny folks have come up through the ranks of this event - some have gone on to perform comedy around the city and even across the country.  I'm impressed by their talent and their moxie.  The accounting world isn't one that encourages such acts of fancy, and I think each and every one of the contestants is a bold spirit.  It's a grand experience.

Each fall, as I prepare for this event, I go back through my collection of comedy CDs, DVDs, cassettes, and such to find the comedy legends and stars whose material inspires and intrigues me.  And those who make me cringe a little.  It's amazing how stand-up comedy has evolved over the years, in so many ways: subject matter, language, performance styles, attitudes...and yet, in one way, it's still the same rudimentary art form: one performer, one microphone, a bare stage.  A conversation with an audience you hope will answer you with laughter, nods of approval and eager applause.  The flop sweat of a bit gone awry.  Self-deprication, self-confidence, swagger, and neurosis, all running through the veins of a performer bold enough to take the stage armed with nothing more than their homemade material and what they pray to God is perceived as charm.  It's not for the faint of heart.  As a snake bite victim, allow me to say, research has shown that being in front of an audience ranks as high on the Fear-o-Meter as a viper encounter for most folks...and the scars of a poorly executed encounter can last just as long.

With that in mind, here are my random thoughts on some of the bold, the blase, and the just plain ballsy in the world of stand-up.  

  Richard Pryor -  No surprise here.  The man - at the top of his game - was just pure brilliance.  I know he went to some naughty places - too naughty for some of my gentle readers, to be sure - but what was beautiful about Richard was the pure honesty.  Not the foul language, but the way he shifted comedy from observational to confessional.  Nothing was off limits - his drug problems, his heart attacks, his setting himself on fire, race, his demons, his hopes and fears.  He put it all out there, sharing it in a way that made audiences feel like they knew Richard.  I can't say I ever felt like I 'knew' Bob Hope.  But I knew Richard...and I'm a better person for it.

Bill Hicks - Bill wasn't even a comedian.  He was a street preacher.  He was a one man protest movement.  He was the original Rage Against the Machine.  The Reincarnation of Lenny Bruce  -  again, comedy born from an all-too-honest place.  He pulled no punches, and really didn't care what you thought.  Fearless.  The saddest thing is, he died in his 30's from cancer, and I can't help but think we've needed him more since he passed away than we ever did while he was here.  The world awaits the 21st century rebirth of Bill Hicks.  In the meantime, we try to remember his mantra: "It's Just a Ride..."

George Carlin - George falls into the "I liked you better when" category for me, and I know artists hate that.  You want to keep growing, keep expanding, and for George, getting softer wasn't an option, but as he got older, George's stuff just felt derivative and grouchy to me.  What I loved was his 70's and 80's output of wordplay, social commentary, and twisted nonsense.  No one loved the English language more, or was more capable of turning it on its head.  No one spoke to hypocrisy better in the 70's.  Growing up, I wanted to be George.  Ask any comedian who has come along since Carlin, I bet the best ones tell you the same.

Steve Martin - Steve is no longer a stand-up, but those few brilliant years of surrealist comedy were something to behold.  A lot of rules went out the window with Steve's absurdist approach, and I remember always being surprised by what he came up with on his albums and on SNL appearances.  What I love most, though, is how he evolved.  Stand-up to actor to playwright to novelist/essayist to bluegrass phenomenon.  Of course, he was always all of those things, but he's slowly morphed into a real Renaissance man.  And it all started with a white suit and a pair of bunny ears.  

Jerry Seinfeld - "Seinfeld" the series is on a very short list of favorite shows of mine.  At its best, the show was the "anti-sitcom", one of the first of its era to eschew the warm fuzzies for pure cynicism.   And I like Jerry a lot as a person, from what I can glean from interviews.  But, his standup has never put me in stitches.  He's got amazing precision, terrific delivery, but some of his observations are just a little too mundane.  I almost feel like - if we were to sit in Monk's Coffee Shop - he'd have me doubled over with laughter, but onstage, I never quite connect with the material.  That said, I admire him for keeping his stuff clean, as there's really no reason for him to work blue, unlike Pryor and Carlin who sorta made an art form out of profanity.  Jerry once said the reason he didn't do a lot of potty and sex related humor is because - on a good day - you spend about 10% of your life going to the bathroom or having sex.  So, there's this whole other 90% to explore.  I think that's pretty smart...'cause I'm personally tired of comedians retreating to farts and d$*% jokes as a coat of armor against being vulnerable and honest with their material. 

Dane Cook - if you forget about Andrew Dice Clay, and we should, he's really the first comedian since Steve Martin to play arenas.  A guy playing 20,000 seat halls is doing something right, for sure.  But I think what he does right is marketing.  Dane Cook is the comedian people love to hate.  Comedians especially love to hate him.  He's just so in-you-face with this cute/hip routine that I can totally see why people distance themselves.  And, he's been accused of the greatest crime in comedy: lifting material from his peers.  Unproven, but it's out there.  Anyway, I gotta say - maybe it's the Tony Robbins CDs that I've absorbed over the past decade, but I like Dane's energy and seeming love for his work.  The guy seems to really enjoy making people laugh, and the mischief in his delivery and material do keep me coming back.  That said, where I could see having coffee with Seinfeld, I imagine within ten minutes of java juicing with Dane, I'd want to pour a scalding latte down his shirt.  When Richard Jeni killed himself after battling depression, a friend of mine once muttered, "Why can't Dane Cook get depressed?"  I get it.  But I also get a lot of Dane's stuff.  It's a love/loathe thing, and I'm seeing a professional about it.

Patton Oswalt - Hands down, the funniest guy out there in my opinion.  Just great, original stuff.  Listening to him makes me happy, even when he's describing some of his more hellish moments.  His pain = my joy, and that's the equation for the best comedy.  To paraphrase his latest CD title, His Weakness is Strong.

Jim Gaffigan - Jim's got a bit of a one note gimmick (the voice of the judgmental audience member that he mimics after every shocking line), but surrounding that is some smart, spot-on stuff.  And the fact is, his 'shocking' material is PG at its worst.  Very clean, very likable guy...and his "Hot Pockets" routine should be on everyone's I-Pod.

Sarah Silverman - Oh Sarah, I have such a crush on you, and you also make me so nervous when I watch you.  It's not that I get all clammy from my crush, it's that you go to some really, really dark places, and I can't tell if you're just looking for hot buttons or if you really mean what you say.  So, I watch you for ten minutes, then I turn you off, then I come back over to the show you were on to see if you've changed topics.  I can't help but think our relationship would be much the same.  In the meantime, I'm torn between your demure delivery and your potty mouth, your truly brilliant material and your 'shock for shock's sake' stuff.  Pick a team, girlfriend - I'm rooting for ya.

Larry the Cable Guy - please kill me.  Now.  

Jay Leno - Many younger folks are surprised to learn that Jay Leno was once a very edgy, sharp, funny comic.  That all went away with "The Tonight Show".  When Jay was a guest on Letterman's show back in the late 80's, he was on fire.  Sardonic, savvy, and the perfect punch line man to Dave's set-ups.  Then, Jay - and I try not to use this term too often, as I think it is overused - sold out.  In Johnny's slot, he aimed for middle-America and watered down his already PG material to the point it was just cheap, obvious, and each joke was delivered with a 'and here's the punch line, folks' approach that flew in the face of the career he had built to that point.  I saw him twice at the Fox Theater in the late 80's.  He did two-and-a-half to three hour shows, unheard of for a stand-up, and he was rock solid.  I miss that guy.  

Dennis Miller - here's another guy I miss.  In the 80's and 90's, Dennis' acerbic, pop culture laden humor was the pinnacle of smart comedy to me.  He took aim at all demographics, all political beliefs, all sacred cows, but with a touch of common sense and a 'cant' we all just get along' attitude that let you know he was 'one of us', a regular guy who was (a) really smart and (b) really fed up.  I can pinpoint the day we lost that guy.  It was September 11, 2001.  The day those buildings came down, Dennis' fear went up.  He went from the Lenny Bruce-inspired libertarian to a full-on Fox News correspondent.  Hey, I understand a change in political views - i've had a few myself.  But, he committed the cardinal sin for a comedian.  He also stopped being funny.  Now, he just sounds angry and, like Carlin in his latter days, unpleasantly grouchy.  His routines are like sitting next to Neal Boortz on a crowded airplane for two hours after the airlines lost Neal's luggage and made him late for tee time in Florida.  Left or right, folks, ya gotta be funny.  (Larry the Cable Guy, take note).

  

I realize I'm leaving out some gems:  Bob Newhart, Jon Stewart, Garry Shandling, Lily Tomlin (hats off to all of you).  David Cross, Zach Galifinakis, Woody Allen (thank you, guys).  And I'm missing out on dissing some easy targets (Carrot Top, you know I'm lookin' at you, son).   But, I'm out of time and space.  So, now it's your turn.  Who tickles your funny bone?  And who rubs it the wrong way?  Don't be shy.  God knows, most of these folks aren't...