The Check Spot

Michelle Dobrawsky and I are on The Check Spot this week, an awesome show about the New York City comedy scene brought to you by Dan Cartwright, Arthur Carlson and Dave Greek. Tune in to hear us tell all about SuperEgo Comedy, doing Conan, zombie eating plants, flaming balls, Ted Kennedy, and all the fun things that you can do with semen.

There are two ways to get there....

The Check Spot on the web.

The Check Spot on iTunes.

The Greatest Joke Ever Told

Last night I saw the greatest joke I have ever seen. I am utterly beside myself. If I live a thousand years I'll never tell a joke this good. At a fabulous, expensive, traditional Jewish wedding, in a majestic hall filled with flowers, surrounded by gardens, for 200 of his friends and family, the groom gave a beautiful, touching, heartfelt, solemn speech about the key to a successful wedding:

Communication, Love, Integrity, Trust.

Perhaps someday I will be fortunate enough to get my own heart's desire:

A Nice Understanding Soul.

The Gay Dick Joke Set

Here's my All Gay Dick Jokes performance from last Friday's SuperEgo Comedy Showcase. I'm so happy with how this turned out.

SuperFantastic SuperEgo Comedy

We got Gregg Rogell for the SuperEgo Comedy Showcase. Rock!



The SuperEgo Comedy site just got a makeover,
face lift and breast augmentation. Check it out!

SuperEgo Comedy Stand-Up Showcase

Michelle and I are ecstatic to announce the launch of the SuperEgo Comedy™, Super Stand-Up Showcase. Join us for huge laughs as we present a fabulous lineup of pro comics, rising stars and fresh faces of the downtown stand-up scene. If you see only one comedy show this year ... this is it!

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Friday, May 8
8:00 – 9:30 PM
New York Comedy Club
241 East 24th Street (map)
Between 2nd & 3rd Avenues

$10, two drink minimum

Click here to make your reservation.

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Interview

I was interviewed by Bad Slava for his comedy blog. It was fun and flattering and made me realize something I'd never noticed before. I started doing standup exactly 10 years to the day after I moved to NYC. Neato!

SuperEgo Comedy, Farewell Parkside Show

We'll be bidding a fond farewell to the Parkside Lounge at SuperEgo Comedy this week. Join Michelle and me as I host our final, blow-out show at our original location.

My own personal huge thanks to everyone who has supported the show for our three-year run ... the Parkside, John Morrison for the inspiration, our awesome comics, our awesome audiences and most of all Michelle for inviting me to be a part of one of the most rewarding creative enterprises of my life.

Never fear, SuperEgo Comedy will continue to kick ass and dispense truckloads of mirth at our fabulous new location, the Ochi's Lounge @ Comix.

It'll Be A Riot!

I'm doin' my stand-up thing this Tuesday, December 2, 7:30pm at the Stonewall Inn, birthplace of the modern gay-rights movement. What was that sound like thunder you ask? That was the sound me becoming even gayer than I already was. Buwahahahaha!

Oh, and it'll be freakin' funny. The line up is awesome.

Leah Dubie
Hilary Schwartz
Dale Sorenson
Cara Kilduff
Vicki Ferentinos
Jason Verlaine
Jeffrey Johns

No cover. Two drink minimum. Produced by the awesome Wesley Cannon.

Here's a map.

Special Halloween Comedy Show

SuperEgo Comedy has a fabulous new show at a fabulous new location, Ochi's Lounge downstairs at Comix. To celebrate, Michelle and I are having a Halloween show with stand-up comedy in costume! There will be laughs. There will be horror. There will be candy. So come on down! No cover for audience and only 1 drink or food item minimum.

If you've been waiting for a special night to check it out, this is it! And if you want to see me, fabulous me be sure to be on time. I am opening the show.



Friday, October 31st @ 7:00 PM
353 West 14th Street, Chelsea (map)
Between 8th and 9th Avenue
A/C/E Train to 14th Street; L Train to 8th Ave

A Night To Remember

Last night I had the privilege of seeing Eddie Izzard perform live at Radio City Music Hall. I say privilege because there's something very special about RC. Not only is it a fabulous hall, but if all goes well, you get to see what is very likely one of the greatest moments in the life of a performing artist. So shows at RC are infused with a special energy that few other venues can offer. It's pure magic.

The show, "Stripped" was great. I'll buy the DVD whenever it comes out.

How Life Becomes Standup

People are often curious about where standup comes from and how life gets turned into material for a comedy act. The questions are often phrased in rather egocentric ways. Here are some of them and the replies I'd give if I weren't as sweet and pleasant as I am.

After saying something only mildly funny: "Oh, you're gonna use that in your act now, aren't you? You better send me a royalty check."

Reply: "No I'm not going to use that. It wasn't that good."

After saying something that is actually very funny: "Don't go putting me in your act."

Reply: "Don't worry. You're not interesting enough to put in my act and I only enjoy talking about myself."

After I say something funny: "That was funny. You should put that in your act."

Reply: "It wouldn't work in my act. That joke was custom tailored to the circumstances of this moment and to you. Stripped of context it would no longer be funny."

Whether or not real-life funny can be turned into standup hinges on whether or not the context can be reestablished for an audience who wasn't there and isn't the person for whom the occurrence was originally funny. This is what the "set up" is for. If context can be established quickly with an economy of language then you might just have the basic ingredients of a joke.

Anytime an attempted retelling of a story ends with "well I guess you had to be there" it is a failure to establish context. Another common version of this is "well I guess you'd have to know Julie." Which, by the way, is why I avoid telling long stories about people my listener doesn't know. They're boring.

So it's actually pretty rare that I'm interested in turning something funny from real life into standup for two reasons. Either context would be impossible to establish or depends on too many things to establish quickly. Or the joke isn't about me. Telling a joke about someone else requires that I establish them as a character in the narrative. Since I'd much rather talk about myself I don't usually bother.

I do have a few characters I use in my act. If I can make a joke about one my recurring characters it's far more likely to become standup. My characters are:

• Dumb Straight Boys
• Guys I'm Hitting On
• People Who Annoy Me (Computards, Whiny Chicks, My Family)
  

All of these characters serve the same narrative purpose, I need people to whom I can condescend.

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Enough! If you've made this far then I owe you some funny. Remember the guy who called me "heteronormative"? It took a few days to gestate but it's turned into a nice little bit. I performed it at SuperEgo this week and it killed.

HETERONORMATIVE, THE BIT
I was chatting up this cute college boy and he says, "I love your beard, it's so heteronormative."

/big laugh

Not tuff, or butch, or manly.

(slowly) Het-er-o-NORM-a-tive.

/small laugh

Conforming to societal gender norms.

So I said, "Hey, You're a women's studies major aren't you?"

/big laugh

(act out his reaction of surprise during the laugh) "How did you know?"

(dripping with sarcasm) I'm psychic.

/small laugh

I've got an idea. Let's go back to my place. We can bring down the patriarchy of the military industrial complex with our homo-AB-normative butt sex.

/big laugh

There's a gender equality revolution in my pants and you're invited.

/big laugh

HETERONORMATIVE, THE ANALYSIS
Notice how many of the details get stripped out of the story to turn it into standup. You don't need to know where he was from, that he was wasted, or that I wasn't actually interested in hooking up with him. The only details needed are that he's in college and that we were flirting.

Notice the streamlining of language, events and reactions. It faster and smoother to say I was chatting him up than to say I was being chatted up by him. Notice how the choice of "chatting up" instead of "talking with" implies a bar setting. "Chatting up" also implies a sexually charged conversation and agenda. These two words paint the whole scene making them a very efficient set up.

The term heteronormative is so odd, it sounds so strange in the ear, and it's use in a pickup line is so patently absurd that the first laugh doesn't even have a punch line. Really the first laugh is still set up for what is to come.

The word is so inherently funny that it gets another laugh, albeit milder, when I say it again slowly. This is fortunate because for a lot of people I bet this is the first time they've heard the word. So it must be defined before I can continue. Usually the need to define a word means there's something wrong with a joke. But here it works.

Usually I avoid repeating words in a joke. Because once you've used a word, the second utterance usually has diminished effect. But this joke bit uses "norm" repeatedly in different forms. This is so I can do the joke that hinges on turning "normal" to "abnormal". I put a strong stress on the "ab" syllable, making it stand out.

The structure of this bit worked out so nicely. It's tight, about a minute, with 6 jokes, that's awesome. It starts with a big laugh and ends on two big laughs.

When I first started doing standup, I would tell these long winding stories with good laughs, but way too much extraneous stuff. It's all I knew how to do. The problem was the laughs were so far apart that the audience would cool off between each one so I wouldn't get any build up of momentum.

Now I know how collapse a story down now to just the bare essentials. I get in, I crank as many laughs out of a premise as I can as quick as I can, and I get out while it's still fresh.

Even the best premise can run dry if you go to the well too many times. So I always try to work a bit for one less joke than it's worth.

---

P.S. I wrote my first holocaust joke this week. It's about butt sex. I can not tell you how deeply satisfying this is for me. The hope that I created the world's first holocaust/butt sex joke makes me profoundly happy. And before you ask, the answer is "no". I'm not going to post it here. It's just too raunchy and I gotta save something for the show.

I'm All Squishy Now

Michelle wrote a really sweet blog post about our comedy partnership and our show in which she characterizes us as "dommy control freaks". She sure does have a way with words.

Stand-up is a solitary art. Sometimes it's even a bit lonely. So having a partner is a load of fun. We inspire each other, support each other and relieve each other when one of us is sick of it all.

We manage different parts of the show and it's that division of responsibilities that helps keep things going. I have no doubt that even if one of us had managed to start this thing on our own, alone we'd have given it up ages ago. When I just can't cope, it's a great relief to have someone to call and say, "Honey, would you hold the baby?

Thanks for two great years, babe. You rock my world.

SuperEgo Slash -- Behind the Scenes

For three months leading up to our second anniversary show neither Michelle nor I had any idea what we were going to do. We kept having the same conversation.

"You got anything?"

"No. You got anything?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

We talked about doing another roast, but I felt like after my huge-boobed performance last year as Michelle I really had no where to go. Then this happened....

The Making of SuperEgo Slash
I was reading The Absolutely True Ball Story by Evan Jacobs. It's a charming and romantic tale of a boy who gets stoned, accidentally ties his balls in a knot and goes to the emergency room for this first homosexual experience and an anal probe.

Since we both know Evan I sent the link to Michelle as a laugh. My interest in the story inspired her to write a single line parody in an email....

"I felt his knit tie, soft but scratchy, rubbing against my bare heaving chest...."

This had me on the floor laughing. So I dared Michelle to write a slash fiction story about me and quickly decided to write my own about her.

And so, only 30 hours before the show, we finally found our theme.

We decided to coordinate our performances in a deadpan Masterpiece Theater style. But we did not share drafts.

So the whole time I was writing about her, I wondered what she was writing about me. Specifically I was worried about whether I was going to be the top or the bottom in Michelle's story. I could just see myself ending up at the bottom of some bitch pile.

---

The Show
We opened the show with our readings and as you can see in the videos it went well. I really liked the quick/slow rhythms and rising/falling tones of Michelle performance.

In his biography, Steve Martin relates how some years ago he changed the fundamental structure of his comedy. Instead of using obvious punch lines to tell the audience when to laugh, he left it to the audience to decide for themselves when to laugh.

A little nervous about how this whole thing would play, I decided to follow Martin's example and not telegraph any attempts at jokes. As far as I was concerned this was fine literature. This allowed me to relax and give exactly the performance I'd wanted to give. Although it wasn't easy getting there.

I had a lot of trouble with my rehearsals right up until the very last one. I was unable to resist my usual urge to ham it up, which is a form of begging for laughs. But when I put on the suit, everything just clicked right into place. Interesting how the clothes allowed me to finally get to where I wanted and knew I needed to be.

After our stories we put up 18 comics. There were a variety of themes to the reactions.

Several girls said they felt slighted at having been left out of the "lesbian montage".

Straight men and lesbians alike agree that I don't know a damn thing about lesbian sex. This is true.

I'd wanted to include female ejaculation in the story but didn't for two reasons. First, I wanted to keep it classy. Second, I had absolutely no idea how to get there.

The erotic parts of Girl Talk read like a 14-year-old straight, virgin male's first attempt at a letter to Hustler. This was intentional. But I still don't know anything about girl parts.

In my defense, Girl Talk is not actually a lesbian story. Slash fiction was invented by straight women and it's almost always about straight male characters, Kirk/Spock, Han/Luke, Frodo/Sam. It's called slash fiction because of the slash in the pairings. The top is always first. So in an Aragorn/Legolas story, Aragorn fucks Legolas. (That little blond bitch wanted it.)

But I digress.

So Girl Talk is not a lesbian story. Knowing I hadn't the foggiest clue about how to get a vagina into a narrative I consciously wrote it as a straight girl on straight girl boob domination scene. This subtle distinction may not matter to the casual listener, but it's the basis for the narrative.

Several phrases captured people's imaginations. Michelle's "Take those off, you're way sexier without them," was a favorite, as were her inspired lines about stubble and pleats in pants.

I particularly liked Michelle's poetic, "Male confusion of belts and buttons and underwear."

My utterly laughable, "moist erotic love knobs" seemed to be a memorable phrase repeated a few times in the show. Like so many lines, I wrote it to be as cliché and ridiculous as possible. Which was the point of the whole thing. Porn out of the context of arousal is ludicrous.

But the phrase that really took on a life of it's own was, "Boob Slave". Several comics, including Michelle, straight boys and a real, live lesbian said they'd all like their own boob slaves.

A new service industry is born.

---

Epilogue
Having watched the videos a few times now what sticks with me most is how flattering Michelle's story is. Not because I ended up on top (I did) or because it casts me in a positive light (it does). Rather, the effort itself is quite a compliment.

What better way to star in your own porno without the awkwardness of having to take your clothes off for the camera?

Dale Sorenson with Huge Tits

It's the SuperEgo Comedy 2nd Anniversary Show this Thursday the 17th at 7pm at the Parkside Lounge. Hooray!

At our first anniversary show, New York comics had a blast ripping each other to shreds. I did my impression of Michelle Dobrawsky, trashed some of my buddies and parodied straight boys' bad gay jokes.

So here it is at last ... your chance to see me with *huge* tits.



My victims were ...

• Michelle Dobrawsky, my ample-bosomed comedy partner,
  
• John Morrison, host of several great stand-up shows around town,
• Evan Jacobs, who wears ties constantly for no discernible reason,
• Eudi Paz, a little man with tiny hands,
• Nicole Cunningham, refined, elegant and the only black woman I've ever known who's been to finishing school,
• Dan Upham, whose girlfriend of nine years is his high school sweetheart,
• Stacy Honeycutt, whose had a bit of work done, and
• annoying straight boys ... who deserve all the ridicule they get.
  

Art by Accident

So often art is accident. Take these photos of me taken the fabulous and talented John Morrison for example. The very red lights at SuperEgo Comedy wreak havoc with light balance. And yet, I really like how they look. In fact, rarely in my life have I felt a photo has both flattered me as much as these and captured how I like to think of myself in my own mind.






Thanks for the fab pics and the confidence boost, John. You're tops!

Revived, Repurposed and Redeemed

Instead of one of my usual, malcontented rants, I thought I'd post something that actually complies with the stated purposed of this blog, just to be different.

Two years ago I wrote Ode to the XBox 360 as a satirical blog essay. I liked it and decided to try to perform it as stand up. It failed utterly. But I remained convinced that it could performed and enjoyed in some other form.

I dusted it off, edited the intro slightly and performed it for the Nerd Poetry Slam at the Bowery Poetry Club this week. What fun!

It was my first time performing at a spoken word event and it was a smashing success. The crowd was jammed with nerds. The host wore a T-Shirt bearing the image of The Simpsons Comic Book Guy and asked questions about Star Trek and Muppets.

Anyone who failed the trivia challenge was mocked by audience chants of "Not a nerd! Not a nerd!"

Where previously the bit had failed, it worked here for four reasons.

1. Most importantly, it was the right crowd.

2. The writing conformed to the format of the event.

3. While the changes were minor, the edited intro set up set the tone of satire and condescension rather nicely.

4. My performing skill has increased dramatically. I'm still no Sir Ian McKellen and I never will be. But I was able to project a variety of emotions and use a variety of vocal and mic techniques to punctuate the bit. I really enjoyed what I was doing and felt in command of the performance.

The event was judged and I didn't win. But I didn't care. I got what I wanted out of it and had a lot of fun.



Oddly, they played a continuous video of 80s cartoon toy ads behind the performers during the show. At a stand up club this would be unheard of and fatally distracting. But somehow it worked. Having the Transformers behind me as I sing the praises of a video game console seems to fit in some strange way.

The cherry on my ice cream Sunday of nerd came at the end. After the last performance the theme to the original Battlestar Galactica was played and the host started in on the monologue. He made a mistake and in the rather raucous atmosphere I chided him, "get it right!" He asked if I knew it and when I affirmed he surrendered the mic.

With the music rising to a majestic crescendo I stormed the stage, and with the crowd cheering recited....


Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny,
the last Battlestar, Galactica,
leads a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest:
a shining planet ... known as Earth!


I felt like a rock star!

Do Aliens Laugh?

The more you think about laughter, the less sense it makes. I tell you a story with an inherent contradiction or impossibility and you have an emotional reaction which releases certain pleasant chemicals in your brain and usually inspires you to create one of a general set of particular rhythmic sounds. So great is our love of these improbable stories and observations and the reactions they elicit in us that we create designated places where we go to be reasonably well assured that such stories will be told and such reactions will be had.

How odd.

I sometimes wonder if we were visited by aliens what they would think of humor in general and the strange phenomenon of comedy clubs in particular.

"Ask The Next Question"

Bam! Boom! Ba-Da-Bing! Ba-Da-Boom!

That's it!

That's the answer!

. . .

Perhaps I should back up.

. . .

Last night I asked the crowd , "Is anyone getting laid."

A woman cheered so I asked her, "who are you sleeping with?"

She said, "an Iranian arms dealer."

So you want to know what I did with this golden gem of a setup handed to me on a silver platter?

Nothing. Not a God dammed thing.

I couldn't think of anything immediately funny so I panicked and dropped it.

Nice job, comic boy.

I'm a fabulous conversationalist (if I do say so myself). But I've always felt my crowd work was weak.

If a woman told me at a cocktail party that she was sleeping with an Iranian arms dealer a hundred questions would jump to mind.

Do you get free guns with that?
So that's it? We're totally out of fuckable American men?
Are terrorists good in bed?

When making social conversation I've very good at hooking into a topic that I think is interesting or amusing. I've been trying to bring this into my act. But there's been something missing and I haven't been able to put my finger on it, until after last night's show.

My formula for crowd work has been.

1. Ask a question.
2. Say something funny.

This has only worked on preselected topics where I have templated responses ready to go. But it doesn't work for general conversation. We've all met that jackass who thinks he's hilarious who makes lame, forced jokes at everything. He's using this formula.

But true, open-ended, anything-can-happen crowd work is much more like cocktail party conversation. The way I make conversation is to get people talking about themselves and then to engage them on the topics they raise. And the formula for that is very simple.

1. Ask a question.
2. Ask the next question.

That's it.

That's the simple key to crowd work I've been trying to figure out.

Ask questions and the funny will tend to itself.

And slowly I learn.

Super Mega Show Report

I'm a smidge behind on blogging about shows. So here's a catch up round up.

PHILLY

Kelli's Farewell Philly Show was awesome. I've performed for Kelli's room twice before and as they say, third time's a charm.

The one-woman marketing bonanza that is Kelli Dunham filled the place. The girl knows how to pack a room.

Right before the show ... "I'm ready for my close up."

Knowing what to expect going in this time I adapted my set list. I have several bits of which I'm very fond which don't play well for straight crowds. But they come alive when I do them for lesbians. Giving up a few fat chick jokes is a small price to pay for this transaction.

I still offended them a few times. But the difference is, this time I did it on purpose. I tweaked their noses with a little twinkle in my eye and a grin on my face.

But mostly we all just had fun together. There were a ton of dykes into polyamory so my riff on that subject brought the house down.

I mentioned the word and then said, "for the two people in this room who don't know what polyamory is ..."

They laughed so hard I had to stop and wait. Sensing an opportunity I dug in deeper.

"... for the two people in this room not actively engaged in the practice of polyamory at this very moment ..."

This got another huge laugh, especially from the people there with several of their polyamorous partners.

It was a good crowd and these were some of the best laughs I've ever gotten ... ever. It's not hard to figure out why. It was about them. It was about their interests. And it was very, very connected to what was happening in the room at that moment.

These connections are difficult to force. But they're easy when I just keep an eye out for an opportunity. As in normal conversation, the best joke is the spontaneous one that is relevant to the topic at hand.

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY!"

After the Philly show I got another PC speech along the lines of, "that joke offended me so you shouldn't do it." This time it didn't throw me the way it did last time. I asked her why she didn't like it. And then in the middle of what was actually a pleasant and stimulating discussion I said, "by the way, that's one of my best jokes and I have absolutely no intention of deleting it." The conversation continued and I was just amused by the whole thing.

Although, I continue to marvel that people have the audacity to make such a request/demand. It's one thing to say, "I didn't like it." It's another thing entirely to demand the absolute deletion of a work so that no one else may ever experience it.

I think I'll start asking joke objectors this question, "If you went to the MoMA and part of a painting offended you, would you demand that part be blotted over so that no one else may ever see it?"

It's not as thought I don't know how they feel. I hang out in comedy rooms full of straight boy comics. So I get offended all the time. A guy actually did some "homo" jokes in my room this week ... IN MY FUCKING ROOM!

You go to the gay comic's show to try out "homo" jokes?!?! SHEESH! That's pretty fuckin' balls-y.

I chuckled and shook my head. But I didn't say anything to him and I certainly didn't demand he stop doing the joke. Moreover, I did chuckle. The jokes were, in fact, funny. It's good to be offended now and then. They're just jokes.

ALL ABOUT KELLI

The Philadelphia Weekly has a great article on the strange and fabulous life Kelli has led. I learned lots of stuff about my favorite dyke that I didn't know. I'm quoted. I said lots of eloquent stuff in the interview about Kelli. Alas, the quote the reporter chose makes me sound like an inarticulate retard. Nothing says stupid like emphasizing a point with "really, really."

Here's the quote I wished they'd used. "Kelli has such a strong, natural charisma, she draws people to her without realizing she's even doing it. Spending a night on the town with Kelli is like chasing a giant, ever-growing snowball down a hill. You start the evening with 4 people and by the end of the night you have a fabulous, interesting, creative group of 20."

STRETCHING TO LONGER SETS

I achieved something I'm pretty proud of at the Brooklyn and Philly shows. I did two, almost 30 minute shows without using a written set list on stage. Before that, the longest set list I'd ever held in my head was 12 minutes. I still had a written set list on hand. But I had resolved to not look at it while performing unless I completely blanked.

The first time, getting ready was really hard. I took 4-5 hours. But I was determined to give up this crutch. The second time ... no problem. The skill has now been acquired. It just takes a certain amount of prep and discipline.

POLYAMORY BIT EXPERIMENT

When I got back from Philly, I decided to see if the polyamory riff could be turned into a bit that stands on it's own. I edited it and tried it at SuperEgo. Mostly it didn't work. I got some chuckles. But, not surprisingly, without the relevancy the material didn't get the response. The one solid laugh the bit did get was when I asked if anyone had heard of polyamory. Only one person responded. So I called her a "slut". That was connected to the room. So it worked.

That's fine. I expected a mediocre response and mostly I was proving a point to myself. I can file that bit away and haul it out when it's relevant to the crowd.

It's fun building a repertoire like this. I've got a nice little menu of bits to choose from these days. It's small but growing. And it helps with crowd work. The larger my bit menu becomes, the better the chance an audience member will say something that provides a hook into a bit.

It's all about looking for those opportunities to create a connection. A mediocre joke can kill when it's relevant.

GAYEST NERD ON THE PLANET

One day at comedy club, Leil David asked my why I carry two PDAs with me everywhere I go. I replied that while I organize my life on the Treo, the only good mobile application for playing the card game of bridge is only available for PocketPC. So, naturally, I need both.

This makes perfect sense to me.

After a moment of considered silence Leil says to me, "Dale your whole act is about being a big gay nerd ... and that is the gayest, nerdiest thing I have ever heard in my entire life."

This struck me funny, so I did what comics do ... I tried to turn it into a bit. Alas, the difference between mobile OS platforms (Palm vs. PocketPC) is too obscure for a general audience to work as a premise. (Guess that's another one I'll have to save for when I headline Linux World.)

But this observation by Leil an some other factors led me to new theme....

"I am on a personal quest to become the gayest nerd on the planet."

This theme has provided fuel for some great writing lately.

Even more satisfyingly, it has provided a link between the opening gay joke in my audition set and the nerd material that comes after it. I have struggled for six months with three sentences and the best segue I could come up with was clumsy at best, and a non-sequitur at worst. I'd been so frustrated with this for so long I finally had to just leave it alone.

But now I've got the perfect link and set up for my nerd material all in one. Prior to this, the nerd jokes lacked cohesion and all just sort of lay together in an unstructured pile, like dirty laundry on the floor. Now they all support an idea.

Thanks for the inspiration, Leil! You rock, buddy.

THE JOY OF RANT

Last week was really frustrating. (Don't ask.) So when SuperEgo came around I wasn't sure what to do. I'd written some material about how I'm too old for gay pride. As the day wore on and the show drew closer my personal emotions began to mix with the material and it hit me that I was in the perfect mood to do an angry set.

So I dug up a few angry jokes and did a whole anti-gay pride rant. It hit the jackpot. Much funny was had.

Angry material feels both dangerous and powerful to me. It's fun and scary to wield such strong emotions. The smart and super funny Sue Ball said to me after the show, "I like the angry stuff. You seem like a ranter."

I am a ranter. In real life, I rant almost constantly. It's pretty much my default mode of communication. I have opinions about virtually everything. It's a constant battle trying to keep them from getting me into trouble. And yet, this is a component of my personality I rarely bring into my act.

The thing I'm trying to wrap my brain around is how to integrate the ranting with my other material which is much more cute and charming. When I've tried to put both into the same set in the past, the audience seems to get emotional whiplash. Not surprising, I suppose, when I can go from endearing to jackass in 2.0 seconds flat. I'm not sure how to guide them through that. So they end up recoiling at the sudden hostility and I lose them.

Charming works by itself. Angry works by itself. I'm not sure if charming and angry can ever meet.

Maybe I should just give up all the nice stuff and become the gay Lewis Black.

One way or the other, the fact that this stuff scares me means I should probably explore it.

That is all.

SuperUpdate

I updated the SuperEgo Comedy website with a new photo logo I made with my cell phone. This lame effort and the stunning change from center justified to left justified upgrades the design from "vile" to merely "butt ugly".

"One day mens' courage will fail when they behold the beauty of a site with actual graphics and stuff, but it is not this day!" (I think I heard that in a movie.)

The show, on the other hand, is anything but ugly. Going into the summer, Michelle and I were worried about turn out dropping off. But with the Tuesday Motel on break for the summer we've got more awesome comics begging to play than ever before. (Thanks for all the good times, John Morrison!)

I've begun to think of our little baby as, "the show that doesn't suck for comics that don't suck." Now there's a slogan that'll sell!

Dykeland(tm)

I'm in Philly to open for Kelli Dunham at her fabulous Gayety! going away show. (She's moving to the west coast.)

Join us tonite at 8pm at Joe Coffee.

Since Kelli is the only person I know well in Philly, I hang out with all her friends while I'm here. And since Kelli is a big fat dyke, all her friends are big fat dykes. So Philly has become Dykeland(tm) for me.

Kelli's world is full of constant gender bending ... mostly accidental. Little did I know these experiences are contagious.

Dale: "That guy who made my latte at the coffee bar this morning was really cute."

Kelli: "That guy at the coffee bar used to be a girl. She was a lesbian. But now he sleeps with guys. That way he's still queer. All the female-to-male transexuals are doing it these days. You'd like him. I hear he takes it up the ass."

Jackpot!

I always did like feminine men.

Now excuse me won't you? I'm going back to the coffee bar to flirt with the adorable she-boy. I'm so excited. I might just get to have my first transgender sexual experience. Wheeeee!

The "Do Over" Show

Enough with the distraction and filler! Here's an entry that actually fits the stated purpose of this blog.

Catharsis @ Cattyshack on Monday was surprisingly enjoyable and provided a startling number of insights for a crowd of ten people. And it marked a number of milestones.

• First show in Brooklyn.
• First show in a dyke bar.
• Longest set(s) on a NYC stage (28 mins+15 mins=43 mins).
• Longest set performed without notes.
• First show with a "do over".

My previous, mostly lesbian crowds have been fairly PC. So I did autobiographical, self-satirical and gay-inspirational material and it went well. They were with me and laughed. But I could see their self-consciousness. So I kept the pace up to keep the show from dragging.

After my set I hung out with the crowd drinking about joking. Everyone told me I was really funny. But one person actually said she was reluctant to laugh because of the small crowd and a second person immediately agreed. I knew what was going on but was surprised that they were actually aware of this themselves as audience members. I wondered ... how does a comic help a small crowd get past this inhibition?

As we chatted, I noticed they were far raunchier than I'd expected. I realized in retrospect I had played it safe ... nothing too offensive or overtly sexual. I commented that "I should have done an all-dick-and-ass set." Athena offered to put me up again at the end of the show for an encore set.

So I wrote another set list of all my dirty jokes ... it ran 15 minutes and looked something like this....

• Gayest Thing Ever
• Kissing Dominicans
• Pick Ups
• Hand Jobs
• Screamers
• Two Fingers
• Gay Porn
• Fucking Harry Potter

I started in and they went nuts. The drunk dykes wanted, "wet, hot, dripping pussy jokes," like I was some kind of comedy juke box. Not having written any of those (go figure) I just took to just yelling out "Pussy!" in between jokes or when their attention wandered. They would reply "Pussy!" and hoot and cheer. It was hilarious. I didn't matter if a joke got a laugh or not. 'Cause I could just yell "Pussy!" and get a huge response. The word was magic.

I was more nervous doing this material in front of my little brother than I was doing the stuff making fun of Mormons (which he is). I got to "Two Fingers" and I was like, "Jeeze, I can't do this in front of my little brother." He egged me on. The crowd egged me on. So I did it. Along with various bullshit claims that, oh no, I'd never finger fucked a stripper in an East Village bar ... the bit is hypothetical.

Yeah, right.

My first set did well for the size of the crowd. But the "do over" was much stronger, even though not all the jokes got laughs. I've been thinking a lot the last few days about why.

I'm certain there are factors I haven't wrapped my head around yet, but here's what I've got so far....

• We'd gotten to know each other a little.
• We'd all been drinking.
• I engaged the crowd more directly.
• So they engaged me back.
• Dirty jokes were what they wanted at the time. (Although I don't know if they would have wanted the same thing earlier in the evening.)
• I was more relaxed.
  
• Having already accomplished my "agenda" I had nothing at stake, and therefore was more relaxed, not that I was tense for the first set. But I felt a responsibility deliver the show. Having done this, I felt no responsibility during the "do over".
• I'd abandoned my previous assumptions and expectations.
  
• I felt more in command of the stage the second time. Whereas the first time I felt I was carrying them along, as often happens with small audiences.
  
• The first set was a monolog. The second set had a more conversational feel.

So from all this comes a simple goal for the future ... deliver the "do over" show the first time.

The Brown Jokes

Jerry Dante, a smart and thoughtful guy, commented on my blog here that, "Taking a shit will always be funny because it's something everyone does." Jerry has written more on the topic here and asked me to respond.

OK. Hmmmm ... I see where you're coming from here, Jerry. But sorry, man. But I gotta call this one like I see it.... And "shit is always funny" is such a straight guy attitude ... or at least a guy attitude.

When a guy goes into shit jokes (and it's almost always a guy) I tune out. A little voice in my head just says, "This is the best you could come up with? The most interesting thing about you is that you take a shit? Time on stage is precious, and this is what you want to do with yours?"

Sadly, shit-joke hacks literally seem to have nothing better to talk about. Or perhaps more likely, they're not willing to take a risk and expose themselves by talking about something personal.

I once sat in a workshop and listened to the owner of one of NYC's top clubs tell a comic, "don't do shit jokes in my club."

While maybe not all club owners have this attitude, I think most do. Ignore this at your own peril.

"But Eddie Murphy did it!"

Yeah, and Jeanine Garofalo did a Comedy Central special, reading from her notebook which she had on stage. (That's her in the cartoon. I couldn't bring myself to use an image that's appropriate for the topic. Ick.)

But these comics already have a following, earning them a platform from which they can do, just about whatever they want. Those of us down here at the bottom haven't earned that yet.

I firmly believe that shit jokes and performing from notes will not move you up the ladder.

Jerry, you've certainly helped me understand why guys write about shit. But I'm no more interested in the topic than before.

Perhaps my perspective will help guys understand why some people (chicks in particular) tune out on these kinds of topics. I can just see the comics up there thinking, "but people, takin' a shit is funny!"

And I can see a large part of the audience thinking, "maybe, but we just don't care."

I think ass fucking jokes are hilarious. Funny is funny, right?

But I've learned (from painful bombing) that if I ignore an audiences' sensibilities they'll quickly decide to ignore me back.

Sibling Rivalry (Hear My Brother Trash Me On Stage!)

I'm dying, just once, to be the top comic over on Comedy Soapbox. Won't you please help? If you have a blog, post this link. If you don't, just send this around:

http://www.comedysoapbox.com/comedianblog.cfm?ComedianID=1367

So what in it for you? I put a special little treat over there for you....

Sibling Rivalry
My totally awesome, tall & handsome little brother, Neil, is in town this weekend. (Yes, I still call him my "little" brother even though he grew 1" taller than me ... the little brat.) We're having a blast. At my SuperEgo Comedy Show on Thursday night, I roasted him and then dared him to take the stage and retaliate.

He was awesome ... a natural on stage! The crowd loved it.

So go listen to the recording and you'll get to find out what our super embarrassing childhood nicknames were.



Come and get it ... hot babes and pretty boys.
Do ya want the gay one or the straight one?

We be tall!

Cheap, Cheap Shows

SuperEgo Comedy is going gang busters and has expanded, picking up another night.

And I'm doing my first show in Brooklyn on Memorial Day as the "featured headliner" (25 mins!) at Catharsis ... because how better to commemorate our heroic dead than with dick jokes?

So my current comedy schedule is all about cheap, cheap shows!

Check it out ....

Catharsis @ Cattyshack (I'm headlining!)
Monday, May 29, 9pm, $3
(Signup for performers is at 8pm.)
249 4th Ave, between President & Carroll, Brooklyn, New York
Featured Headliner: Dale Sorenson
Host: Athena Reich
"Cattyshack is hosting CATHARSIS, an Open Mic where you can showcase your rawest-newest-oldest-weirdest-craziest work in a safe, listening room environment. All grrrls, boys, trannies, dykes, fags, freaks & straights welcome."

SuperEgo™ Comedy (Expanded!)
"The Comedy Show for EgoManiacs!"
www.superegocomedy.com
Every Thursday of the month except the first one (so that's a weekly show with a monthly break)
Parkside Lounge, Lower East Side, NYC
317 E. Houston Street, between Aves B & C
No cover for audience, only 1 (cheap) drink minimum

What do I do with this egg on the stage?

I've been thinking about hosting a lot lately.

Much has been written about how to handle bombing, as a comic. And comics frequently discuss the burden of following an act that bombs. But really, isn't handling this problem a host's job?

I've never seen anything written about what to do when a comic lays an egg and you're the host. Yet it's vital for the host to keep one bad set from killing the energy for a whole show.

So I thought I'd start with a few thoughts and invite everyone to chime in. I don't pretend to have all the answers here. In fact, most of these thoughts are embryonic and half-baked.

A while back, I was playing a show I love. It was being hosted by a comic I love, a guy I learn from every time I see, a guy I watch with something approaching awe.

I bombed.

I bombed hard.

I bombed about as hard as anyone has ever bombed.

I came off stage with my ears burning. I was just relieved it was over. But it wasn't. There was one last bit of suck to come.

The MC said, "Dale Sorenson ladies and gentlemen. A very funny man. Not tonight. But usually a very funny man."

My humiliation was complete.

I understand a host's dilemma when a comic bombs. The energy in the room is his responsibility. He wants to bring it back up before putting up the next comic. So a quick cheap dig at failed set gets a laugh, relieves the tension and it "calls the room". That is to say, it acknowledges what has just happened and what the audience is feeling.

But getting laughs at another comic's expense is bad policy ... and not for the touchy feely reasons you might be expecting me to launch into.

It's bad, because it makes other comics nervous. When they see someone else getting trashed, they're gonna play it safe. The anxiety may even cause them to have a bad set as well. And then there goes the show ... spiraling down the crapper.

So what's a host to do?

If you can find a way to "call the room" and acknowledge the situation without trashing the comic who just bombed, I think in the long run, it's better for the show.

An example ...

At a show I hosted recently, "Comic X" did an entire set about taking a shit ... different takes on taking a shit, observations about taking a shit, thoughts he's had while taking a shit, highlights of different shits he's taken over the years.

It was awful. No one laughed. I was sitting there thinking, "Yeah ... this set is gonna make you famous ... definitely. Lemme look at my watch here ... oh look ... he's still talkin' about takin' a shit! Fantastic!"

So he finishes and I get back up. I didn't want to make another comic come up to that painful vibe. I could see in their eyes just how badly they wanted to be released from their discomfort. So I said, "Comic X, ladies and gentlemen ... and his hilarious bowel movements!"

This got huge laugh. More importantly, I think I found a way to walk the fine line between letting the audience off the uncomfortable hook they were on but not slamming the guy who'd just bombed. He knows. Or maybe he doesn't. In which case he'll keep bombing until he figures it out or gives up comedy. Either way, I don't think saying, "What a loser!" is going to help either him or the show.

(BTW, Comic X, if you're reading this, for fuck's sake, write about something else! No one's going to book your takin' a shit material. NO ONE!)

When I was new at this, I usually went to rooms where the hosts were nice guys like Steve Rosso, John Morrison and Dave Baldwin who I knew wouldn't trash me if I tried something new and it didn't work. Thanks guys! I felt a lot safer blundering around in the dark knowing that at least if I tripped, the host wasn't gonna whack me with a bat while I was down.

It's particularly important for a host to be supportive at an open mic. But what about "real" shows?

The temptation to slam a failed set is mighty strong.

One night at a Caroline's bringer I saw one of the worst comics I've ever seen bomb a packed house. The pro who went up after her absolutely killed by mercilessly ridiculing her ... lampooning, mimicking, saying he'd commit suicide if he was her. It was savagely funny. The audience agreed and they roared with laughter.

I don't know what he'd planned to talk about when he arrived, but....

Wait! Stop!

I don't know what he'd planned to talk about when he arrived ... and I'll never know.

His set was completely derailed by mocking the previous failure. Sure I laughed. But I don't remember his name or anything about him.

Which leads me to this....

You can't make a name for yourself by trashing other comics. Sure you can get transitory laughs. But unlike the great routines of comedy, no one will be quoting your bile afterwards, they way they do with Eddie Izzard, Ellen and Bill Cosby.

And I think that is probably the best reason to leave other comics alone. It'll never get you anywhere. Can you think of a single comic who got famous trashing other comics? I can't.

(Insult humor and celebrity commentary doesn't count. That's different. It's "material".)

Don't get me wrong. I'm not some goody-two-shoes. (What the hell does that mean, anyway? OK. Nevermind. I looked it up.)

I love dark, harsh, condescending, sarcastic humor. But why not direct that energy at the things in life you feel deserve to be mocked? There's no shortage of them these days.

Jim Mendrinos once said to me, "Comment on your own universe."

Good advice.

Still, if you're gonna host, it's a good idea to have a few techniques in your back pocket for handling a failed act. Sooner or later you'll need them ... probably sooner.

So here's another one from a friend with truck loads of MC experience.

Kelli Dunham was hosting when a musical act whose band members perform as various animals ended their bizarre, incomprehensible set with one of them swinging from the rafters.

The audience was dumbfounded.

Her comment ... "Now there's something you don't see every day."

Simple. Funny. Honest. Gentle. Perfect.

And finally ... the best thing a host can do after someone bombs? ... Tell some jokes that are funny.

Do chime in with your thoughts and suggestions of how to handle it when someone else bombs, won't you?

Nobody Likes a Braggart

Murray has made some fascinating observations in the comments at the bottom of this post which have inspired me to indulge in various philosophical musings on the difference between confidence and arrogance.

Here's my perspective. Dictionary definitions are linked.

CONFIDENCE - A belief in the value of one self or what one has to offer, tempered by humility.

ARROGANCE - Pride and fear pretending to be confidence. Arrogance is closed to criticism and blind to error.

A truly confident person is grateful when presented with a better way. An arrogant man secretly fears being exposed, accepts no criticism, is often unaware of failure, and thus learns nothing.

Confidence allows for progress. Arrogance creates stasis.

Confidence draws people in. Arrogance pushes people away.

One of the things I often remind myself, both when I'm performing and when I'm writing is that, "nobody likes a braggart." We've all seen the comic who goes up and brags about his sex life. Nothing turns an audience off quicker. That's why self-effacing humor is so much more popular and effective.

If a comic first shows the audience a few frailties, frustrations and failures (a veritable trifecta of Fs) he can then earn a little leeway to be a bit cocky or condescending. This is a tricky line to walk. I often try because it's fun playing on that edge. I don't always succeed. When successful, the result can be delightfully sardonic satire. When unsuccessful the result is frequently obnoxious, smug failure.

I'm learning that cocky or condescending material can only be done with careful awareness of how the material is being received and monitoring of the audiences' emotions. A little bit of playful charm goes a long way to smoothing this path. Failure to notice signs of alienation leads directly to bombing.

Being a Good Host

One of my goals in starting SuperEgo Comedy with Michelle was to get more experience hosting.

Mission accomplished ... I've been hosting ... and not a moment too soon. Turns out MC'ing a show, like so many things in life, is more work than it looks.

You're "on" all night long and you have a lot of competing responsibilities.

Here's what happened my first night hosting SuperEgo.

GOAL & ATTITUDES

• I'm going to do 10 minutes of whatever I want at the top of the show, after all, I'm the host.
• I'm going to have lots of funny things to say in between acts.
• I'm gonna rock and everyone's gonna see how awesome I am.
  

OUTCOME

• Many of my forced attempts at humor died horrible deaths.
• The crowd was bored by my long, self-indulgent set of experimental stuff.
• Many comics had to come on stage to a lack of energy because of my floundering. This affected their sets. Which in turn, brought the show down.
  
• I put a fair amount of pressure on myself to succeed, which did not give me a good stage presence.
  
• I did succeed at one thing spectacularly. I made the show all about me. Specifically, I made it all about me not doing a very good job of hosting.
• The show wasn't a failure, per se. But my poor effort gave it a weird vibe.

REALIZATIONS

The difference between just doing a regular spot and hosting is very much like the difference between going to a cocktail party and hosting one.

As a party guest, I get to talk about myself. I get to be fabulous and flirty and get attention and "have fun".

As a party host, I feel a responsibility to make sure other people have fun. I make sure their drinks are full and that they're involved and ask them to a talk about themselves. As a host, it's not uncommon to actually not have a lot of "fun" at my own parties. But I still get a lot out of hosting. It's deeply satisfying seeing my guests having a nice time and to know I made that possible.

It's a different sort of experience. "Fun" is exchanged for "satisfaction."

I went into hosting SuperEgo with an attitude of ... "It all about me, me, me!" Note the completely lack of mention of both responsibilities and anyone else in my goals.



In retrospect I realized how deeply wrong this was. I thought of MCs I admire, like Jim Mendrinos and Guy W and going into my second time hosting the show, I gave myself a major attitude adjustment.

Dale Hosts SuperEgo ... Take Two!

GOAL & ATTITUDES

• I'm gonna do everything I can to help the comics have a good show and the audience have a good time.
  
• I'll do a few, short, warm-up bits at the top of the show and then get right to the line up.
• I'll do my best to draw the audience in and keep the energy up.
  
• I will make an occasional joke or offer an occasional tag when it will add something to the show. But if I have nothing interesting to say, I will say nothing.
• I will keep things moving along.
  
• I will not make the show "all about me."
• I will make the show "all about the comics."

OUTCOME

• Success!
• I did everything I could to try to deliver the audience to each comic, primed and ready to laugh.
• The comics had great sets.
• As the energy waned toward the end of the show (as it often does) I made sure to pump it back up so that no one had to come up to dead air.
• By making fewer tags and doing fewer bits in between acts the things I did do were far better received.
  
• I put almost no pressure on myself and had almost no expectations. So I was relaxed and casual, which allowed me to be occasionally spontaneously funny.

It's amazing the difference a little humility makes!

Your thoughts about what makes a good host?

(The illustration I stole is by my very talented friend, Tyler.)

"I have a show today."

I had a bunch of shows in a row. So I was busy and didn't blog. Then the weight of the blog I was thinking about writing became so large I didn't blog. I started a big entry ... then ran out of gas.

I now give up. Not writing about the past is now also causing me to not write about the present.

I'm letting that stuff I was gonna write about slip away and intend to just start fresh with current events.

For what it's worth, here's the incomplete entry about only one show....

"I HAVE A SHOW TODAY."

"I have a show today," is often my first waking thought on show days. The frustrations and challenges of show business cannot diminish the joy of thinking, "today I get to do the one thing in the universe I most want to do, and most enjoy doing." On show days I awake like a kid on Christmas.

So ... I have a backlog of shows to write about.

RAINBOW MOUNTAIN

This was a great gig. My traveling companion and I were treated like royalty all weekend. The staff looked after us, our meals were paid for, and signs for my show were EVERYWHERE! It was kind of surreal hanging out in a bar with 6 photos of me plastered all over the walls.

The cutest part of the weekend was when the shy restaurant bartender came up to me in the bar later in the evening and said, "I wasn't sure if I should say anything earlier, but I recognized you from your pictures."

I said, "Oh, that's great."

And he said, "You're my first celebrity."

To which I wanted to bust out laughing and say, "I'm not a celebrity. I'm just some dork with a web site." But, ya know what? My face was on every flat surface in that place. And I realized ... that weekend, in that place, I was the celebrity. So I politely thanked him with a little smile on my face.

So by the time I took the stage on Sunday night, I felt like I owned the place. I was "the celebrity."

The crowd was engaged, attentive and willing to play along. I occasionally had to draw them out, and they didn't like a couple of my more aggressive/graphic bits, which is interesting given it was a gay crowd. But they were really into my story telling, which I used to break up the pace occasionally and was a lot of fun.

The management had asked me to do a 45-60 minute show. I had been furiously working out new material leading up to the show, to try to get it up to an hour. It wasn't until I was about 45 minutes in that I looked down at my set list and realized that I had over an hour of material. I took a quick inventory. The crowd was with me, the guest services director wasn't giving me any "wrap it up signals," so I pressed on and ended up doing 1 hour 8 minutes. It was awesome.

SuperEgo Smash

The launch of Michelle's and my new booked-mic show last week was nothing short of an absolute smash hit! We were hoping for 12 people. We got 35 with a full line up of 16 comics and a full house. The huge "real" audience was awesome and all the comics brought their "A Game" delivering great set after great set.

We're humbled and a smidge overwhelmed by the response.

And it shows no sign of letting up. We have a full line up again for this week. And again, we've got comics beating down the door to be in the show. Sorry to those we had to turn away. Please keep trying.

Check out the updated web site and check out the show!

www.superegocomedy.com

Last Comic Freezing

Hour 7 of standing in line to audition for "Last Comic Standing."

Wall-To-Wall Rainbows!

I'm at the fun and fabulous Rainbow Mountain Resort for a gig.

I'm staying in ... no kidding ... "The Cherry House".

It's gay here.

It's super gay here.

It's gay, gay, gay, gay, gay!

They have gay staff, gay drinks, gay food, gay games, pink lips painted on the pool, non-stop show tunes in the dining room, condoms on my night stand and rainbows on absolutely everything.

There's a shrine to "Sex And The City" complete with oil painting.

This place is so gay that it's even made me gayer ...

... and I didn't think that was possible.

Be warned! There are insane lesbians in the Jacuzzi here. We played a variation of "Truth or Dare" and ... well ... I don't think I can bring myself to tell you everything that happened in that hot tub. Let's just say I learned a couple things....

If you give me enough whiskey, I'm not shy about showing my dick to dykes.

... and ...

Did you know that tits feel different under water?

Thank you very much. I'm here all weekend.

An Accounting of The Numbers of Comedy

A woman I once met at a cocktail party told me that her friends often suggested she try stand-up and asked if I thought she could be a comic. So I asked her, "how much time are you willing to spend in open mics?" This was clearly not the question she expected me to ask.

She kept bringing up qualities like wit and being comfortable in front of people. And I kept trying to bring the conversation back to, "No really, being funny won't make you a comic ... spending thousands of hours in The Village might."

I did think she was outgoing, charming, talkative and funny. Certainly these are excellent qualities for a would-be comedian. But they're not going to do it by themselves. What is going to do it is time ... lots and lots of time.

She had a lovely fantasy about being a comic. I tried get her to understand the reality of becoming a comic with descriptions of hours of waiting for your turn to go up while listening to frat boys telling abortion jokes and rape jokes.

I wasn't trying to shatter her fantasy. I was just trying to convey that while a sense of humor is certainly required, it's a huge investment of time that will make you a comic. I was encouraging and even offered to take her to one of the open-mics where I work out my new stuff. But she never really got the point I was trying to make. So I suspect her fantasy will remain just that.

Which isn't such a terrible thing. I have a fantasy about living in Europe. But as the years slip by, it seems less and less likely to happen. No matter. I'm still fond of the fantasy. I'm unwilling to do the work and make the sacrifices required to make that particular fantasy a reality.

More than anything else, becoming a comic requires time ... time writing, time editing, time rehearsing, time traveling to open-mics, time waiting at open mics, time traveling home after open-mics ... all to get stage time in excruciatingly short doses of only a few minutes at a time.

I'm getting ready for my big call-back audition at Stand-Up NY tomorrow night. Last week I went to four open mics so I could work on refining my set. I spent 15 hours just traveling to and from and sitting in these shows. And that doesn't even include writing, editing and rehearsing. For those hours, I received 22 minutes of stage time.

The approximate ratio is:

That is to say, I spend about an hour (or two) getting each minute of stage time. It's interesting to me how consistent this ratio is and has been from the very beginning ... at least for me. It holds true for everything from open mics up to headlining. 5 hours writing and going to an open mic yields 5 minutes on stage. A 48 hour trip for a major gig yields 48 minutes on stage.

I'm not complaining. Really. I'm not. This is simply an accounting of what it takes. And it's a reminder of my dedication.

I want this. I want it bad. I want it as much as I wanted to change the world as the plucky-little gay-rights activist I was in my 20s. I want it as much as I've ever wanted a job in an interview, as much as I wanted to move to New York City 12 years go, as much as I've ever wanted passion and romance in my life. I want it as much as I've ever wanted anything ... not because I'm dying to be rich and famous.

I do it because I have something to say, because I want to learn my craft, because I want to reach and grow as an artist, and because there's a little voice in my head that won't shut up.

And that's a good thing. It gives me the motivation to spend the time and to do the work. And it gives me stamina to sit through frat boys telling abortion and rape jokes and then bitching at the chicks in the audience for not laughing.

The Art of Conversation

OK. Enough with the pretty boys. Back to comedy ....

I had two experiences this week that in combination have lead me to some powerful realizations about stand-up ... first, I bombed ... second, I saw Memoirs of a Geisha.

Now, I should start by saying that "bombing" is probably not quite the right word to describe my show Wednesday night. The word implies both failure and embarrassment. And the experience was neither of those things. It was an experiment. I set out with an agenda and goals and I learned from the experience. So in that sense it was a smashing success.

However, what I did not get from the show was laughs. Which is something for which a comic usually strives. So in that sense, I bombed. But I didn't care. (Please no, "there, there, don't cry, it happens to everyone" comments. I'm fine. Really.)

Being an open-mic, it was a room full of comics. I pay a cover charge and get stage time. So that time is mine to do with as I please. There's no obligation to deliver the laughs, as there is with a "real" show. So with no obligations and nothing to prove I went way out on a limb and tried something new and weird.

After writing Ode to the XBox 360 this week I decided that it was funny. I decided it was so funny, in fact, that with visions of David Sedaris dancing in my head I decided to try performing it as a dramatic reading of a humorous essay. I saw it as an experiment and as a question. "Can I infuse this script with enough energy and emotion that others will find it as funny as I do?"

I got what I wanted, a clear answer to my question. The answer was a resounding, "no".

They starred. They coughed. They started their own private conversations out of boredom. But they did not laugh. Someone in the audience asked if my set was a sponsored Microsoft product placement and the comic after me asked if the show had turned into a Bowery poetry reading.

Why?

Hold that thought....

Yesterday I saw Memoirs of a Geisha. It's a stunningly beautiful film. I left the theater feeling like I'd had a dream about a fantastical world. It really captured the visual world of the geisha, where the artist attempts to turn everything into art from dance to conversation, from walking to holding a fan, from eye contact to seduction, and even just pouring a cup of tea. This idea of creating visual and verbal illusions and finding art in the smallest details appeals to me.

So what does all this have to do with stand up?

Stand up is the art of the illusion of conversation. Leaving aside crowd work (which is often more scripted than it appears) it is not actually a conversation. The performer mounts the stage with a script, albeit a sometimes flexible one, and talks about topics of his choosing. But the comic wants you to feel that it is a conversation. The magic comes in the carefully constructed illusion that the comic is speaking with the audience, not at them.

If you look at the structure of stand up, it's not all that different from a State of the Union address. There's a speaker, an audience and a script. It is the presentation of the material that is vastly different in stand up. Comics go to great effort to make the audience feel like they're just hanging out, having a casual evening swapping stories and making jokes with friends. But they're not. It's an illusion. The more convincing the illusion, the better the comedy.

I have occasionally seen Robin Williams criticized as not being as spontaneous as he's represented to be. Of course he's not! Did anyone really think he actually thought up all that stuff on the spot? No. He slaved for hours over every word. The magic is in making it appear spontaneous. And to me, that is the greater achievement ... making something carefully scripted appear spontaneous.

I've seen other comics, notably Marilyn Pittman and Scott Capurro, change gears in the middle of a stand up set and do something that's obviously scripted, bits with a more narrative tone. Marylin's bit is her "Naughty American Savings and Loan" and Scott's is "I want the straight American dream."

I remain convinced that some version of my Ode to the XBox 360 can work as an intentional shift in tone in the middle of a much longer set. But it can't work standing on it's own, as I presented it on Wednesday and here's why.

1. There was no illusion. The audience immediately knew they were being talked at. Without the connection provided by the illusion, they knew I was not engaging them. So they did not engage me.
2. There was no context. Friends of mine who've read the bit thought it was funny ... because they know me. They know what a nerd I am. They know I'm the kind of guy who would have a powerful, emotional experience in response to a new technology. This is a funny premise. (At least I think so.) But it requires context. And with the bit being 5 minutes and my spot being 5 minutes, there was no way to establish this context. No context = no humor.
3. It was the wrong medium. Night-club stand up is a very specific medium. My essay is funny. But it's humor lies in its careful twists of language and the clever turn of a phrase. These things do not translate to the loud, boisterous, drunken, distracted environment of a night club. That environment is more suited to ... say ... dick jokes. David Sedaris' essay readings work because he's performed them in mediums where the audience wanted and expect them. I doubt he ever tried to read them in a night club. But I'll bet if he did, it wouldn't work.
4. To get laughs, the bit needs more jokes. I've written a couple other bits in a narrative form like my Ode to the XBox 360. But they have little jokes in them to pave the way. If I'm gonna do the bit as stand up, it needs more of that.

So that's what I learned this week.

Now if you'll excuse me, please, I'm off to enroll in geisha school.

Watch 'n' Learn

I mapped out a set for last night's gig that was about 12 minutes long, fully expecting to get cut short. To my surprise and delight, the producer left me up for the whole thing. Glad I was prepared.

One thing on my mind lately has been the idea of having all the bits I've ever written in my head at the ready. Recently I was reviewing my master joke list and realized that I had bits I'd literally forgotten about. I'm trying to work on mental cataloging techinques so that when I'm on stage thinking, "what should I do next based on how they've responded so far" I can conjure a mental menu on the fly. This is hard. Very hard. A lot harder than expected. The number of things a comic is trying to keep in his head at once is staggering ... all while trying to seem relaxed and casual and like, "it's no big deal."

The format for comedy shows is pretty similar at most clubs ... an MC, some number of comics, and a headliner is last, usually the best and most experienced comic in the show. If find this does two things for me.

First, it's a pleasure to watch an experienced comic do their thing. It's inspiring. I'm always trying to glean tips ... not of things to directly mimic. I watch more with an eye on technique. It gives me something to strive toward.

Second, sharing the stage with superb performers shows me just how much there remains for me to learn. It keeps me humble.

I'm proud of how far I've come. And I'm keenly aware of how far I have left to go.


I watched George Carlin's latest HBO special this week. As always, his command of the English language is nothing short of terrifying.

A Perfect Weekend

This weekend I went to Philly to headline Kelli Dunham's show, "Gayety!" and to spend some time with Kelli, Brian and Bevin. It was fabulous, fantastic and exactly what I needed after a rough month.

The show went swimmingly. We had a full house, about 35 people. The audience was 90 percent lesbians. I've never played an overwhelmingly lesbian crowd before. This made for some interesting differences in audience response. Some usually reliable jokes got nothing. And I found some big, big laughs in places I never got them before.

I also had my first experience with politically correct outrage from a fan, which was fascinating. Kelli has warned me about this kind of stuff. "Dude, you can say 'retard' if you want, but I know for a fact there will be four nurses in the audience who work with special needs kids."

I did a joke about people in floral print muumuus hating me for being naturally skinny. This provoked an angry email which I received a day later, which bewildered me. The premise of the joke is that people should not be singled out for hatred based on the shape of their bodies. This is exactly the position of "pro-fat activists". The joke even goes so far as to say that even when I am the object of a fat person's hatred for being skinny, I do not return that hatred even though it would be easy to do so.

The letter included the usual "Topic X is not funny!" I've received these sorts of letters from my family for making fun of Mormons in my act.

As I sit and think about my jokes, I'm certain I could find someone to be offended by nearly all of them. And were I to remove everything that's potentially offensive, I'd be left with virtually nothing.

But I certainly understand the writer's point of view. I continue to marvel, and to be offended myself, at the frequency with which I still hear fag jokes from straight comics in New York clubs. The same comics who think nothing of dropping the F-word know their careers would be over if they started dropping the N-word instead. Even Jon Stewart, who I adore, will drop an occasional "fag" or "queer" in his show. But I have seen every single episode of The Daily Show for a few years now and never once have I heard him use the N-word. The N-word is forbidden. It's so forbidden we can't even say the word when talking about the word, so we call it the N-word. The F-word is just naughty.

I remember John Cleese once saying in an interview that enforcing political correctness is making everyone conform to the sensibilities of the most sensitive and easily offended.

Trying to argue someone out of their sensitivities is pointless. Look at all the rednecks in the South trying to convince blacks they shouldn't be offended by the Confederate Flag. Never gonna happen. (And, BTW, I agree, the Confederate Flag is incredibly offensive when attached to a state flag.)

So what's a comic to do? I think the answer is to simply be aware of what an audiences' sensibilities are or are likely to be.

My most favorite joke of all the jokes I've ever written is my notorious "Swedish Ass Fucking Joke." I do not perform this joke for the tourists at my Times Square gig. Is it funny? Absolutely. Will it get a laugh from that crowd? Usually not. Another of my ass fucking jokes actually got "booed" at that gig once. Booed! No matter how funny I think the joke is, I'd be an idiot to ignore this.

So the lesson here is that a room full of pro-fat lesbian activists is not gonna go for the floral print muumuu jokes. Quell Shock! And no amount of explaining and justifying is going change their sensibilities.

Ah! It's just hit me. I am used to gauging how racy I can be with a conservative audience. I need to also gauge how satirical I can be on certain topics with a PC audience. Same concept. Different perspective. After all, giving up a few fat jokes is a small price to pay when they'll laugh at every one of my ass fucking jokes.

Getting back to the show ... it was fantastic ... my best show yet. I had planned to plan and rehearse the thing to death. But in the days leading up to it, I found I just wasn't in the mood. "I know this stuff."

I made a set list the morning of the show and reviewed the scripts for some of the bits I hadn't done in a while on the bus. That was it. And it was plenty.

I went in, relaxed and confident. The minor PC issue aside, this was an incredibly sympathetic audience. I knew I wouldn't have to "work" to "get" them.

The show just flowed naturally. I had a good time chatting with them. And I found a new intro bit I've been wanting to figure out. I have a bit to introduce being gay to straight audiences. Now I have a bit for gay audiences.

I did a lot of writing early this year. Based on some industry feedback I received, the second half of this year I've been trying to catch up the quality of my performance to the quality of my writing. I feel like I have now achieved that goal. A new standard has been set. The bar has been raised. I have a new, stable platform from which to build and grow.

I'm ready to take it to the next level. I'm ready for what's next.

The Rules

At last week's show I broke a simple rule ("Don't open with new material") and paid a predictable price (blank stares). Which made me realize a few things about creative "rules".

First, as they say, "learn the rules before you break them."

Creative rules aren't so much restrictions or prohibitions as they are the collected wisdom of those who have gone before. "Hey kid, do whatever you want, but thousands of artists before you have found that X, Y and Z. Do your own thing. But ignore this at your own peril."

The moral of the story ... if I'm gonna break the rules, I'll do it for a reason.

Putting the "Stand" in "Stand-Up"

My big show for the NY Underground Comedy Festival was this weekend. The pouring rain made for somewhat lower audience turn out, which was a shame. But it was still an OK crowd.

So what did I learn from this show? I learned this ....

I mother-fucking hate mother-fucking mic stands.

That's what I learned.

My usual style is to take the mic from the stand immediately when I get on stage and hold it in my right hand for my entire set. I like being free to roam around. And as I speak and pause, I like being able to raise and lower the mic.

The mic was cutting out, and the only way to prevent this from happening was to leave it in the stand. Leaving the mic in the stand made me feel completely immobilized. I felt like I was tied up and my feet were nailed to the floor.

I felt off base, off center. My confidence was undermined. None of my emotions were in the right places. So I felt like every single joke delivery was off.

Some of the other comics complained about the mic through their entire sets. I didn't want to succumb to that. I tried to adapt and cover as best I could. I certainly brought home the laughs. Maybe they noticed something was off. Maybe they didn't. I don't know. But I sure as hell felt the difference.

I guess it's time for me to finally get around to buying that mic and stand I've been thinking of getting so I can practice at home. I don't really want to work with the stand. But I think I should try to get more comfortable with one so it doesn't affect me so badly if something like this comes up again.

Aside from this relatively minor issue, it was a good show. And I now have an awesome credit to add to the resume.

Yay for me.

0+2=15

I'm having a streak of canceled or almost canceled shows. Last night we had two people in the audience. And they were both friends I had brought to the show myself.

Regardless, the show must and did go on. And it was fine. In fact, strangely enough, it was great.

Once again, something for which I've been striving and about which I've been thinking a lot finally happened in a easy and comfortable way as a natural progression of just doing my thing.

A couple comics flaked so there were only four of us. So I got some extra time.

Jamie Jackson introduced me and instead of getting on stage I sat down at the table directly across from my two friends.

"I was wondering, is there anything more awkward than doing a show, with no mic, for an audience of two people, both of them your personal friends? And I realized, yes! Doing a show, with no mic, for an audience of two people, both of them your personal friends sitting two feet in front of them. So how ya doing? You look great! It's great to be here! Let's hear it for your MC."

All this amused me, my friends and the other comics.

I then got up and actually stood on the stage and commented, "No matter what happens after this, no show can possibly be more awkward than that was. So it's all up from here."

After me the headliner started with "welcome to an evening of painfully intimate comedy".

I started my set light, threw in a current event joke, talked about my job, then, half-way through, did the Utah stuff, and finally ended strong with some gay stuff.

Bam!

There it was ... the 15 minute set I've been dreaming of doing on a New York stage.

I'm ready for the next level.

And the timing is perfect, because I have a few possibilities on the horizon for longer gigs.

As I often do, last night I got to share the stage with Nick Cobb. What a great guy. Funny, absolutely. But also just a genuinely likable, good-natured, decent fellow. A rarity in the biz.

Larger Than Life

Saturday's show went smashingly! I did my best crowd work ever.

Ever!

The club was about half full. There was a large group of forty-something soccer Moms from Virginia, Florida and other such places. They were rowdy, laughing loudly and heckling, but not in a mean spirited way. They were just participating aggressively. I engaged them, but was careful to not let them pull me too far off course.

I had lots of fun, spontaneous moments. The mic was cutting out so the show producer came up to fix it. I asked her to tell me the secret to making it work. She said, "You have to be careful, the bottom is really temperamental."

Without missing a beat I said, "They always are."

The room erupted. Talk about getting it handed to you on a silver platter. If a gay comic can't get a laugh out of that set up, just quit.

I was struck by how universally the straight crowd got the bottom joke. Everyone laughed. For this I'm grateful to Will & Grace. As much as I can't stand that show, every gay comic owes them a big "thank you" for giving America a gay vocabulary. I'm amazed I can make a "bottom" joke and even suburban housewives get it. Times are a changin'.

Twenty years ago, gay comic pioneers like Bob Smith and Kate Clinton had to define each of their terms as they went. Their acts were essentially the "coming out process" with jokes added to the explanations. I am deeply grateful for the ground work they have laid. And for the fact that I don't have to explain being gay to the audience. Their years of work, and the explosion of gay television, have literally built the stage upon which I stand.

This weekend I was able to work bits into my act in ways that looked spontaneous. The women brought up Tom Cruise. So I did my bit about him, "We had a meeting and we've decided ... since he's lost his fucking mind we don't want him anymore. You can have him. Tom Cruise is straight." It's a mediocre joke with nothing particularly original about it. But it got a big laugh because it looked impromptu.

I also tried out this bit that's been kicking around my head which involves picking a cute guy on a date with girl and having some fun at his expense. This worked fantastically well. It also helped bring some critical balance to the crowd work. He was sitting on the other side of the room from the group of women. So it helped bring that side of the room into the show. I like this bit a lot. It's what I wanted to do when I got into this ... talk to straight people from a gay point of view and show we're not that different.

I've been experimenting with moving my autobiographical material to the middle or end of my set, instead of the beginning. My thought here is that the audience is more likely to care about my back story once I've established a connection. I've also wanted to develop a set without any of the Utah stuff at all.

I tried that at my Caroline's gig many months ago. I had some cute stories, but the energy was too low and they desperately needed editing. I've come a long way since then.

Saturday night, with the revised election bit, the crowd work, picking on the straight guy ... just as I was about to go into the Utah stuff I got the light. So I went into my current sign off bit instead, "Gay is Trendy."

Boom!

Without even planning it, I had done a set with crowd work and a set without the Utah stuff. All that worry and it finally happened, naturally, all by itself, and it wasn't in the least bit scary.

A lot of crowd work is just having a nice catalog of bits at the ready. Then when someone says something that hooks into one of them, you're golden. So I've realized this is something that will come more and more naturally with time. It's also an incentive to write ... to build the catalog.

For months I've been striving to take my own, natural, loud, boisterous, life of the party personality on stage with me. It's finally working. Delilah, owner of the Laugh Lounge, challenged me to figure out who I want to be on stage. And she made a suggestion that has become my mantra ...

Larger Than Life.

Watching the show Saturday night I also got a lesson in what not to do. One of the comics allowed that group of about 15 women, who comprised half the audience to completely hijack their set. As this comic went deeper and deeper with the group, getting their names, learning where they were from, and even bringing one of their cell phones on stage, I watched the rest of the audience. They grew bored from being ignored. They became restless, shifting in their seats, their attention wandered, their eyes glazed over. One couple even left.

These were subtle things that only lasted for a few minutes. It wasn't a major thing. But I noticed them and made mental note.

Malicious hecklers want to steal the agenda outright. But even good-natured hecklers want to derail the agenda and make it about themselves.

Crowd work is fun. And audiences, as much as they may protest "don't pick on me," secretly like it when the show becomes about them.

But I believe a comic has a responsibility to include everyone and to deliver "the show" for which everyone came and for which everyone paid. The quiet, respectful people are every bit as entitled to "the show" as the loud, drunken table.

I feel good about the balance I struck between these competing priorities on Saturday night. And I had a good time to boot.

The weekend's two shows, the one that was canceled and the one that wasn't, combined to give me a major attitude adjustment. I am reinvigorated. My enthusiasm is renewed. And I'm deeply grateful for the opportunities I have to learn my craft and have fun doing it.

Building the Tower

To be on stage, there's a mental preparation process I go through. It starts in the shower. I always run my set at least once in the shower.

I like the shower. I often have good ideas in there. I'm not sure why the shower is so conducive to the creative process. But I think it has something to do with being naked and alone with hot water.

To do my thing, I need to be in a certain frame of mind. Performers call this mind set "being on". I sometimes think of this state of mind in a very literal way, as building a structure in my mind, a tower.

When I'm in a good mood, energized and looking forward to a show, the distance I need to go to achieve the right state of mind is short and the effort required to build my tower small.

When I'm a bad mood, the distance is light years and the effort gargantuan.

I've been in rather a sour mood lately. So when my show last week, the one with only three people, was almost canceled, I was almost relieved. Because still only 40 minutes before I went up, I hadn't finished building my tower. But once the show started, I finally pulled myself together, gave a good performance, enjoyed it and was glad to be there.

This weekend was to be a double-show weekend, a real treat. But I wasn't appreciating it.

It's been a frustrating week and I was pretty depressed last night. So the process of getting ready, mentally, felt like dragging a dead elephant through the streets while wrapped in chains.

But as I always do, I psyched myself up to the task at hand and was quite chipper by the time I arrived at the club. So I was genuinely disappointed when no one came and the show was canned.

The process of getting ready left me in a good mood, even without the show. So instead I went out for a beer. And I'm pleasantly surprised to find my good mood has endured through to this morning. I sort of expected it to collapse when the show was cancelled.

What have I learned?

1. Having a show taken away has made me realize how grateful I should be and am to have the opportunities to perform that I do.
2. With the right incentive, I have it within me, through sheer force of will, to turn a bad mood into a good mood if I really want to.
   

I'm looking forward to tonite's show.

My Promising Future in Voice Over

On Sunday night I went to Adam Sank's new show at Therapy Bar. (He blogged about it.) It was after the Emmy Awards and he had this whole intro bit with a little trophy and celebrity acceptance speech parody. I love how Adam is often willing to go way out on a limb to do customized intros for some of his gigs. It shows the audience that he is paying attention to the particulars of the evening and willing to go to special effort for them.

Adam had me read his intro into an off stage mic as part of the whole gag. After the show he came over to thank me for doing his intro. The audience member I was sitting next to said, "Oh, that was you? I thought it was a drag queen."

Perfect.

Three

I was sitting in the club with the show producer before my Joe Franklin gig this week. With 15 minutes to go the room was empty, which is unusual. Two guys came in, who had been barked (handed flyers on the street) and were a bit tentative.

"There's no one here. Hey, why should we come to the show?"

"Because we're funny!" I replied.

I find that this simple statement said with way too much enthusiasm, almost always gets a laugh. I think because it's just so strangely obvious. It's as if I'd said, "Look! I have a head!"

After a brief chat the guys left saying they'd return. I wasn't sure whether my banter had convinced them to come back or driven them away. But as they left one guy called out to the other, "That was the comic."

The comic?

I though about doing a 90 minute show myself and found the idea intriguing and daunting.

Someday.

The show almost didn't happen. At show time there was one person in the audience, a cute Venezuelan guy named Pedro ... naturally.

The producer held out a few minutes and the two guys came back. So with three, count 'em, three people she decided to proceed. Woo Hoo!

Because the room was so empty my comic buddy Jamie Jackson suggested we all sit in the audience seats, instead of huddling together in the corner like a bunch of wet puppies as we usually do. A good suggestion to be sure, but I said to Jamie, "you think by the end of the show the three people in the room who aren't comics won't notice that everyone else has gone up one at a time and told jokes?"

To which Jamie replied, "Maybe they'll panic and say 'I didn't know I was supposed to have jokes! I'm not prepared! Oh no!'"

This amused me greatly. I thought about using this on stage but decided against it since it wasn't my idea.

Jamie MC'ed the show. I always like having Jamie as the MC, which is a thankless job. He has truck loads of enthusiasm and really helps get things going. Is so much easier going on stage following Jamie's energy than to the dead air of some listless MCs.

The comic who went up right before me wasn't doing too well. The guy I'd chatted with before the show yelled out, "You suck! We want to see him!" And he pointed at me.

So that wasn't awkward at all.

So I went up. Three people. Nothing at stake. Nothing to lose. I had fun.

I tried a new joke about our local elections for Mayor that worked. It's an infantile bit making fun of one of the candidate's names, "Wiener". What a hack. Next I'll be doing "pull my finger" jokes. But must confess a feeling of deep satisfaction in getting the audience to chant "Wiener, Wiener, Wiener."

I tried rearranging my set a bit, moving the Utah autobiographical stuff into the middle instead of the front. This material either works or it doesn't. I've been racking my brains trying to figure out what the determining factor is. For a while I thought that it was mostly young audiences that didn't go for it. But some young audiences love it.

The one thing I have noticed is that audiences that don't go for the Utah stuff, nearly always go for the computer jokes, the more generic gay stuff and dick jokes.

One hypothesis that's been kicking around my head is that autobiographical material may work better after I've made them laugh a time or two. They're more likely to be interested in my back story once I've established a connection.

This sounds good on paper. I have no idea if it's correct. Playing around with the set order is my way of trying to figure this out.

Another possibility is that I might be doing something different with the delivery of which I'm not aware. There are just so many variables here. I'm pretty sure that connection, presentation, accessibility and relevance are the factors here. In time I expect the answers will come into focus.

I'm starting to be able to get a sense of an audience by watching how they react to the comics who go up before me. But it's tricky and I'm often wrong.

In the end, the only way I'm sure a bit will work is to do it and see what happens. If it's not working, lately I've been trying to adapt on the fly, to get out and do something else. I watch the pros do this with fluid mastery.

My two security blankets on stage have always been the microphone and my script. Doing crowd work, frankly, terrifies me. So I have usually stuck to my script. It's safe. But the more comfortable I get, the more chances I'm willing to take. And the more willing I am to deviate from the fucking sacred script.

I'm actually pretty loose about my set list these days. Little by little I am engaging the audience more, being chatty, reacting to comments and things that happen in the room ... just trying to be present and aware.

I'm also getting more comfortable with the idea of abruptly switching gears. If a bit is not engaging the audience, I'm the only one who will know if I decide not to finish it and start something new. In this regard I've decided that connection is far more important than continuity ... at least at a regular gig. At an audition gig, structure and continuity have a more important role.

Back to Pedro ... I wished I'd tortured him with my pathetic broken Spanish.

"Yo tomo uno refresco en el cafe con el burro con los huevos mas gigante en el mundo y una puta con queso."

"I have a refreshment in the cafe with a donkey with the most gigantic balls in the world and a whore with cheese."

This is something I do to my mother and three siblings who actually speak fluent Spanish and I think it would have been funny. But after trying the election stuff and bantering with the audience I ran out of time.

Ah well. Next time.

Opposites Attract

Under the title, "I Hate Gay Men," fellow gay comic and sexy little vixen, Adam Sank, mentioned in his blog the problem that gay comics have with gay audiences. Put simply, gay audiences are not impressed by gay comics. "Yeah, whatever fag boy. We've heard it all before."

I have experienced this myself. I have bombed in front of gay crowds as badly as anyone has ever bombed. So I don't pretend to be an expert on this. But I do have a few thoughts about this, about which I will now proceed to ramble.

Straight audiences see us as fun, cosmopolitan, catty, outrageous ... whatever. Especially tourists, "Oh goody! A gay comic! I loooooove Will & Grace!" We get extra credit from straight crowds just for being gay. 95% of the crowds I play are straight and I'm usually the token homo on the bill. So I have fun with that status and get extra laughs for it.

But the flip side is that our own people really make us work. They're inherently bored by us, because they are us and we are them. There's nothing intriguing about being gay for them.

The same is sometimes true in reverse for straight girl comics, who can have a tough time with mainstream crowds. If they're ugly, the guys hate them. And if they're pretty, the girls hate them. (It ain't PC, but it's true.) But gay male audiences love girl comics. Witness the force of nature that is Margaret Cho and her eight billon gay fans. Girl comics get extra credit from gay men for being themselves. "You go girl!"

I find that just realizing these dynamics can help.

Some of my gay material is constructed to play to the audience's reaction of, "Oh neato! He's gay!" And when I play straight rooms a lot, I get used having that there. When that feeling isn't there, that means of establishing a connection doesn't work. That doesn't mean the bits can't work. It just means there needs to be a shift in attitude and delivery.

I find that if I just switch inside my own head from "Look at me, I'm gay, Wheeeee!" to, "OK, we're all gay here, so let's relate," sometimes it's enough.

Gay comic Michael Brill is an absolute master at this. Every time I play a show with him at Don't Tell Mama's I learn from him. I watch him on stage with something approaching awe. He can connect to any audience, gay or straight, guys or gals, time and again.

If I'm having a tough time connecting to a particular crowd I'll play to the girls first. As a gay comic, I can use that gay guy/straight girl bond to bring the girls in. In fact, whether or not I'm having a tough time, I usually play to girls first, even if it's just for 30-60 seconds.

Guys out on dates with girls wanna get laid after the show. And most girls hate homophobic guys. So if the guy is a jerk, he's not gettin' any.

"Ooooo! Isn't he fabulous, honey?"

"Yeah, sure, baby. Whatever. Have I told you how great your tits look in that outfit?"

So girls bring their guys with them. This is still true when the guys are gay. Get the fag hags and you'll get their fags with them.

So, yeah, gay crowds are tricky for a gay comic.

But, "Ve hov vays ov making you laugh."

Tough Crowd

The crowd at Joe Franklin's Comedy Club last night was tough, tough, tough. They just weren't givin' it up, to anyone, for anything. The headliner was black albino, Victor Varnado, a guy whose unique style and stories I quite enjoy. They didn't even perk up for the headline act, something I've never seen before. Usually no matter how stingy a crowd is, they'll finally start getting into it once they've gotten their two drinks in them ... not these folks.

I think part of a the problem is that the light in the room is too bright. There's a good reason comedy clubs are usually dark. If people feel like they're being too-closely watched, they get self conscious. If they're self conscious, they won't laugh. In fact, like a geisha they'll actually intentionally stifle their own laughter because the don't want to be seen laughing. I saw some of them doing that last night.

I gently mentioned the lighting to the show producer afterwards and she agreed. In fact, she's way ahead of me. She said dimmers are being installed, which I think will help the atmosphere immensely. It's a small thing, but it's one of the many factors that determine whether a show works or not.

Despite the crowd's low energy, I enjoyed myself. Leighann Lord's attitude rings in my ears, "They're facing the stage and they're paying attention. I can work with that."

And so can I.

I dragged a few good laughs out of them and tried a few new things I've been wanting to do.

One of them is a simple little audience participation gag that worked far better than I'd ever hoped it could. In fact, them being only barely engaged made it work even better.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how material that actively engages the audience usually gets the strongest response of anything. That's why crowd work, works.

I was also thinking this week about two things: how I enjoyed having fun at the expense of last week's hecklers, and how one of my girl comic friends at the show was teasing me for the white silk pants I often wear to perform.

I combined these two things into the following little practical joke on the audience.

I did two short bits, including the opening bit about my new clothes, and then I said,

"I have a theory I'm hoping you folks will help me out with. I think comedy show audiences can be divided into two groups. So group one, by applause please, everyone who's already figured out that I'm your token homo comic for the night."

[A smattering of chuckles and two people clapped timidly.]

"And the second group, by applause please, blind retards."

[Big laughs, nods of recognition and most of the rest of the audience applauds.]

"You sir, you couldn't figure it out?! How much help did you need?! I'm wearing white pants and the gayest shirt ever! I got this shirt because the costume department for Will & Grace thought it was just too flamboyant!"

The bit worked really well, but for exactly the opposite reason I thought it would.

I expected almost everyone would respond to the first question, leaving only a couple people to pick on with the second question. Instead, only a couple people responded to the first question. So by refusing to participate, they put themselves into the second category without knowing what it would be. So part two worked as a kind of "Gotcha!"

I like this bit a lot and plan to make it part of my regular set whenever I'm the only gay comic in a show with a straight crowd. I think it will play especially well with the tourists.

Speaking of Leighan, she mentioned me in her blog recently. She commented on me, commenting on her. And now I'm commenting on that. Oh the circle of love just goes 'round and 'round.

Own It.

Last night was my usual gig, Monkey's In The Atrium at Joe Franklin's Comedy Club.

Another show, another chance to learn, another set of new insights.

Mr. Joe Franklin himself was there. I thought I recognized him when he came in with his business associates. But I wasn't sure and then forgot about him until after my set when the MC pointed him out. He stood, smiled and waved to the crowd. He seemed every bit the classy old show biz guy from the Milton Berle era.

Joe Franklin pretty much invented the TV talk show. And The Joe Franklin Show still holds the record for longest running TV show with a single host, 40 years. The Tonight Show has run longer, but not with the same host.

Many of the other comics waited and angled for their chance to meet Mr. Franklin after the show. I use to do that with politicians when I was in my early 20s. A lot of desperate young talent see someone famous and think, "he's famous, maybe he can make me famous." But for the most part, talent doesn't have opportunities to give talent. Producers have opportunities for talent. So I decided to leave the sweet old guy alone.

I hadn't done a show in two weeks. My own personal goal is to be on stage at least once a week. But with the premier of Sacred Underwear two weeks ago and the double-header weekend three weeks ago, I figured this break in my schedule was fine.

It's been 22 weeks since the last time I went more than a week without getting on stage. And since my first time on stage, I've only ever gone more than a week without performing 3 times.

I don't like going more than a week without performing. I find if I'm not moving forwards, I'm sliding backwards. When I've had breaks before, I've felt rusty on stage.

Now that didn't happen as much last night. But I did find I needed more mental prep than usual, because of the break. And I also found I was slightly nervous before going up, although I was fine once I got on stage.

Back in January, standing off stage before my first big show at Gotham Comedy, my coach Jim Mendrinos gave me one last little bit encouragement. He looked me in the eye and spoke softly, quietly, but with a certain intensity that made me remember the moment. He simply said,

"Own it."

Jim is such a class act. He is commanding on stage, with a comic presence so large it feels it could not only fill the stage. It feels it could fill the world. He possesses a considerable intellect. But never once have I seen him abuse it, a temptation smart people succumb to all to easily. Jim uses his insights to enlighten those around him, to lift them up, never to dominate or demean.

There is so much wisdom in the advice he gave me that it's taken me months to understand some of it.

When Jim told me to "own it." I thanked him and told him I would. And I smiled a little smile. "Own it," is such a straight guy expression. And that's all I thought of it at the time.

Last night I realized the deeper meaning of "Own it."

Upon returning to the club that has grown to feel like home for me, I thought, "I belong here. This my club and my show. I own it. That my stage. I own it. Those minutes are my time. I own it.

I seized the stage with new levels of confidence and a powerful sense of ownership.

And not a moment too soon.

Last night there were three hecklers sitting right in front, stage right. These drunk, obnoxious, rednecks were giving all the comics a hard time. I went up third. And I wasn't about to let those shit heads take my time and my show and my laughs from me. Those thing are mine. I own it.

Knowing the powder keg I was about to set off, I introduced myself as "your token fag comic for the night." They started in right off the bat. They interrupted, they called me "queer", they feigned revulsion, they talked non-stop during my set.

The audience was already against these guys. So they were with me. I know they wanted to see someone put them in their place. I was just the fag for the job.

Hecklers want to take my time, my stage, my laughs, my audience and my show from me.

So I destroyed them.

I talk about straight guys in my act. Usually I do it in the tone of a good-natured ribbing. Last night I changed the tone to pointed, sharp and condescending. I made the hecklers the specific, direct butts of my jokes. They were the dumb guys with no imagination. They were the fat guys with huge asses. They were the guys with repressed urges. When I mention guys who can't get any, I pointed to each of the three of them one at a time, without looking at them.

I turned my back to them and then talked about them to the rest of the crowd. I used body language and eye contact to create a mood of "you and me folks, you and me, us together against them."

The audience loved it.

At the end of my set, I made one of my usual jokes about giving blow jobs and one of them cringed and loudly said something like, "Oh, God, Yuck!" I saw my opportunity to go in for the kill.

"I'd like you to think about that, sir. As you're drifting off to sleep tonight. I'd like you think about how much dick the gay comic has sucked." The crowd went crazy as he looked more and more uncomfortable and more and more revolved. I continued to twist the knife. "That my parting thought for you. That image is my gift to you, sir."

Like a gladiator from his arena, I walked off stage as the victor, with the crowd cheering and the bodies of the vanquished lying broken and bleeding in the dirt.

FINAL SCORE

Fag Comic: 3
Rednecks: 0

God I love comedy.

I'm A Player! ... And A Monkey!

Joe Franklin Comedy Club, Monkeys In The Atrium Stand-Up has added me to their list of regular players. How lovely!

I'm delighted to be in such talented company.

Check it out!

"You Think Too Much"

I have heard this more than a few times in my life.

Recently I've been hearing it in reference to my on-stage persona.

"Just stop thinking and relax."

This strikes me as some of the most trite, useless, counter-productive advice ever given.

I can't.

"Just stop thinking."

Harumph!

My little noggin approaches life as a series of puzzles and riddles. I love figuring things out, knowing why things are the way they are and what makes stuff and people tick. I always have.

As a kid, one of my favorite books was The Way Things Work, An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Technology. I still have my copy. It's nearly 600 magnificent pages of technical diagrams and detailed explanations of ... well ... the way things work ... things from elevators to mirrors, from TVs to the Doppler Effect.

The book was translated from the original volume, Wie funktioniert das? (How Does It Work?). As you might expect from it's German origins, it has a marvelous precision and clarity. It take science to the level of art.

If I could "just stop thinking" I might be a more relaxed person, but I wouldn't be Dale Sorenson. I don't know who I would be.

I cannot be other than that which I am.

But that's not to say I can't relax. I can and often do.

And I've realized something liberating about myself.

I will never be a person who can just stop thinking and relax. (Witness the exhaustive navel gazing that is this blog.) But there is something I can do.

I can finish thinking and relax.

Once I've started thinking about something, the only way for me to stop thinking is to come back out the other side. When I reach a conclusion, realization or insight, when I solve the riddle or choose a course of action, then and only then can my brain relax and I can get on with my life.

I finally reached this point with my performance. I'm in a period of explosive growth. It's exhilarating and a tad overwhelming. But I feel I've finally figured out a thing or two and I've been able to relax.

This weekend I decided to be my usual, loud, boisterous, opinionated, larger than life, self. The moment that happened, I had two great shows. And then I remembered something, comedy is fun.

I had a nice career milestone this weekend. For the first time ever, I had shows both Friday and Saturday nights. What fun! And it was very interesting to be able to compare two shows so close together.

Friday night I did Poole Party. Saturday Night I was at Monkeys In The Atrium Stand-Up at Joe Franklin Comedy.

In his book, Zen and the Art of Stand-Up Comedy, Jay Sankey advises the comic to adopt a gently detached attitude toward the ups and downs of different shows and different audiences.

I did this and voila! I relaxed. And I had fun.

Now that's not to say I didn't care. I do ... very much. But I stopped seeing the audiences' response as validations or rejections of me personally. And I started seeing it as, "this material connects to them, this material doesn't."

Fuck whether they like me or not. I like myself quite enough for everyone in the room.

This attitude allowed me to keep my cool, to remain myself, and to truly see what was happening while I was on stage and adapt.

For the first half of the show the audience at Poole Party was so sedate I wondered if they'd just dropped by Don't Tell Mamas because they thought it would be a great place for a nap. It was another in my recent series of joke-to-joke audiences.

They were also distinctly prudish, which is unusual for this venue. So I lowered my expectations, reluctantly omitted my beloved ass fucking jokes and mostly stuck to my greatest hits. Two short new jokes got nothin'. Which was not surprising. But I still got good laughs and had a good time.

The run of low energy audiences ended Saturday night. It was a full house and they were hot. Hot! The energy was up. Everyone was having a good time. As I waited for my turn I got more and more excited. "This gonna be awesome." And it was.

I went up without a strict set list. I knew what I was going to use to open and close. But I didn't have how much of which topics I was gonna do cast in stone. I just started doing my thing. When they liked it, I did more of my thing. When they didn't. I moved on.

My loose structure allowed me to play with them. I was chatty. I improvised a line or two. I tried a couple new ideas, which I hadn't written down. (The horror!) They worked. Two of them worked so well I'm going to edit them in as permanent parts of current bits.

I had a blast. They had a blast. And significantly, I felt like the same person waiting to go on, being on stage and coming off stage after.

I believe it was Jay Leno who once said, "You do stand-up, and you do stand-up, and you do stand-up, and you do stand-up, and you do stand-up and then one day you wake up and realize that the person you are off stage and the person you are on stage are the same person."

For me, that day was Saturday.

Sequence Sets the Tone

Last week I was chatting with an artist friend of mine, Joe Maller, about my current audition set (which you can see on my recordings page). Joe is both a creative genius and a tech genius, perceptive and intuitive. His insights never cease to absolutely blow me away. I wanna be Joe when I grow up. He pointed out something subtle but significant about the set.

There used to be a complicated transition between my Utah jokes and my computer jokes that set up a major change in persona. The theme was "from reviled to revered" and made the point that the things for which I was persecuted for in my childhood, being gay and a nerd, are now things that are cool and valued in society (to a point and in NYC, anyway). This has been cut down to a one line pithy segue. This is great for time, but has creating a sudden, jarring shift from "feel-my-pain" victim to condescending "know-it-all" with no warning.

I was thinking of trying to put some of the transition back in to address this, then realized I can fix it with something incredibly simple. If I do "dumb questions" before I do the "being a consultant" bit the shift in tone will be more gradual. Suffering dumb questions still has a component of victimization to it, but starts building towards the arrogance of the consultant stuff.

It's nice when, every now and then, a problem turns out to have an easy solution.

What Plays? What Doesn't?

I had my regular Joe Franklin Comedy, Monkeys In The Atrium Stand-Up gig on Saturday night. It was another young crowd, but a fair number of middle-aged folks, too.

It was also another "joke-to-joke" audience. These audiences are engaged, having a good time, but not raucous. They decide for each joke, one at a time, whether they like it or not. {A} jokes get laughs. {B} jokes get a few muted chuckles. And {C} jokes get coughs.

I'm starting to develop a feel for what an audience will go for, just by looking at their faces and watching other comics play. This is one of the little light bulbs that has come on for me recently. Dimly and flickering at first, but it's a start.

For example, at this show I thought, "technology jokes and dick jokes will play well with this crowd and my Utah jokes won't." I was right.

So I decided to keep the Utah jokes to short versions, four quick bits to set up who I am and then move on after about 2 minutes. I was doing the Utah jokes, and they were doing fairly to poorly. I was thinking, "can't wait to get to the stuff they'll like." But then something weird happened. All sudden I found myself doing long versions of the jokes and then doing bits I hadn't even planned to do.

What the fuck?

I remember thinking on stage, what am I doing? Why are these words coming out of my mouth? What's worse, I wasn't talking to them. I was talking at them. I dug myself a nice little hole so that when I finally got to the computer jokes, it took me about a minute to dig myself back out. After that, the rest of the set, the majority of the set, was fine. "Passwords" and "Gay is Trendy" killed.

I got off stage and racked my brains. Why did I do more of the material that wasn't working instead of less?!?!

Then it finally hit me.

I was scared of the bit that was supposed to come after the Utah bits and before the computer bit ... my ex-boyfriend jokes. These jokes cast me as a fairly crass character. It's a rather risky bit and I've never done it at Joe Franklin. It's killed a few times. And it has bombed as badly as I've ever bombed twice. I could see they were pretty sure they didn't like me. And I was sub-consciously afraid that the ex-boyfriend jokes would finally push them over the edge.

I ended up not doing them, the right decision. But instead of just moving on to something I thought would work, I stalled by doing more Utah jokes.

This is a case of my "always have a set list" work ethic backfiring. I'm going to start being more casual about my set list. I plan to continue to have one, but I plan to be more flexible.

I'm also thinking about putting together a set with no Utah jokes at all and wondering how I would introduce myself if I don't do the Utah stuff. I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea or not.

Now, this analysis aside, the show was fine. The show producer was pleased, as always, to have me in there. Many audience members went out of their way to shake my hand, thank me and compliment me on the way out. So I'm the only one who knows about my silly little set list blues.

I continue to struggle with not being too hard on myself.

A dear friend said to me at dinner tonite, "stop trying to be perfect."

Good advice.

Comedy Work Ethics

Leighann Lord, a comedian I've mentioned here before, who I just adore, on reading my blog recently commented to me that I had a good work ethic. In addition to this being a delightful compliment from someone I greatly respect, it got me thinking. What exactly are my work ethics as comic?

Since long before I thought about doing comedy myself, for years, I have enjoyed stand-up at the clubs here in New York City. Now that I'm a comic, these places have changed for me. They're no longer just places of entertainment for me, they are my workplace. Don't get me wrong. They're a workplace I cherish! But they're my workplace just the same.

So here are my rules for myself. As with all sets of ideals, they are lofty. I am certain I will not live up to them all the time. But I will strive to abide by these as best as I'm able.

MY COMEDY WORK ETHICS

1. I will maintain a professional image and demeanor at all times.
   
2. I will not step foot in a comedy club, whether I'm booked or not, without being dressed to perform.
3. I will dress to perform, as recommended by my second coach Jim Mendrinos, "a little better than you dress for a date." This dress code is part of a larger ethic.
   
4. The audience has come for "a show". Dressing well is part of showing my appreciation to the audience for coming to see me in person, instead of staying home and watching Comedy Central.
   
5. Regardless of the size of the audience or the status of the venue, I will give my all. I will perform to the best of my ability, with the best energy I have to give.
   
6. I will seek to bring the best and strongest aspects of my personality on stage.
   
7. I also feel an obligation to the club management to deliver. Yes, I will try new material. But I will also ensure I deliver the laughs. That means being aware of what's happening in the room before I go on, during the show. It means being aware of the composition and attitude of the audience. It means responding to how they are reacting to material. It means adapting as best as I'm able to the situation and using every means at my disposal to deliver the laughs.
8. I will be prepared. New material will have been written down, edited and rehearsed before it is performed the first time.
   
9. I will be prepared. I will have a written set list before I go on stage, every time. I will do my best to commit my set list to memory. I will not refer to my set list nor will I use notes on stage unless unusual circumstances make it absolutely necessary.
10. Benjamin Franklin said, "Let thy discontents be thy secrets." I will keep petty complaints to myself. I will be appreciative to management for the opportunity to perform, courteous to the staff, and respectful of the venue and other the acts.
11. I will make an effort to learn people's names.
    
12. I will seek the advice and opinions of those with experience. I will be open to constructive criticism. I will listen to notes and feedback with an open mind, without interrupting, offering excuses or making objections. After receiving notes I will write them down. I reflect and consider their merits after leaving the club.
13. I will be confident.
    
14. I will be humble. (Confidence and humility are not incompatible. True confidence is quiet, understated. True confidence knows its own strengths and weaknesses and through humility is open to improvements. Arrogance leaves no room for either humility or improvement. Arrogance is actually insecurity pretending to be confidence.)
    
15. And not to be forgotten, I have obligations to myself. In my act, I will talk about things about which I care, matters of consequence. If I fulfill the obligation I have to the audience to deliver the laughs I earn the right to have an agenda. I may be political. I may tell stories. I'm entitled to do whatever I want, as long as I deliver "the show" as my first priority.
    
16. I will try something new at every performance. I will learn something new at every performance. "Something new" may mean new material. Or it may simply be a new attitude, a new emotion, a new vocal inflection, or even something as small as new body language. But no matter how small, I will seek to move forward artistically with every show.
    
17. I will trust my own judgment and instincts.
    
18. I will remember the reasons why I became a comic and let that passion drive me.
    
19. I will remember that while I am on stage, the goal of comedy is not fame, glamour or money, but to bring some laughter into the lives of my audience. And when I am successful at that goal, I will share in their pleasure.
    
20. I will cut myself some slack. I will forgive myself my failures. I will allow myself to be ... in a word ... human.
    
21. And last, but first in importance, and necessary to fulfill everything above, I will enjoy myself.

Good grief! 21! This list turned out to be so much longer than I expected. I could spend my whole life trying to live up to these. I guess I'll get started.

No doubt these will change over time. But they strike me as plenty for now.

Laugh Lounge Audition Report

Last night was my audition show at the Laugh Lounge. It was definitely a long shot audition. Laugh Lounge doesn't have as many shows. So they don't have as many spots. And it's very competitive.

I know a number of comics who have gone for this audition and none have been passed. So I didn't really expect to pass myself. But it's was a chance to be seen by management, to get on their radar and to get industry feedback. So I was determined to put my best stuff forward, to give it my all and to enjoy myself.

I've made some major changes to my industry audition set since my Stand-Up NY audition a month ago. I took out the royal wedding joke. It's a good joke. But it has become dated and it's not about me. So it really shouldn't be in an audition set. I always knew this. I just didn't have anything better to use instead. Now I do.

I had planned for a while to replace the royal wedding joke with the 80s jokes. But lessons I've learned from blogging about that bit changed my mind.

One of the notes I got a month ago was "too much Mormon" and "too regional," meaning mainstream audiences don't get some of the references. I agreed with this completely.

So I took out some of the longer and more obscure ex-Mormon jokes. This made room for two totally new bits that have been doing really well, "People and Their Passwords" and "Gay is Trendy".

These changes have brought balance to the set. I have always wanted to feature three themes in my comedy: gay, technology and ex-Mormon. These are, after all, things that define me and make me unique. They are what make me stand out from the crowd.

The audience was small, 10 people with modest energy. My set went pretty well. But I felt my performance was a notch down from my Stand-Up NY audition last month.

I was getting good laughs. But rather than having a conversation with the audience (which is what most modern comics strive for) it had a bit of the feeling of me talking and them watching. They were enjoying watching. And I was enjoying talking. I didn't quite establish as much of a connection as I've had with other audiences. It just didn't quite feel ... hmmmm ... personal, perhaps.

I attribute this to two things. Because about half of the set was new material, I was in my head a bit. Not a lot, but a bit. And second, it is oh, so difficult to establish this connection with the audience in only five minutes. I find that even just a seven minute set is substantially easier than five minutes. But the mark of a good comic is that he can establish a connection immediately, no matter the length of the set. This is something I've known for a few months and have been striving to achieve.

The books I've read and coaches I've had all recommend a strong opening joke that can get a strong laugh quickly. The audience is always worried that a comic might suck. Showing them that you don't suck allows them relax. Which, in turn, allows the comic to relax. This is one of the keys to beginning to establish this connection. And so the opening joke is actually more for the comic than for the audience.

I did not pass the audition. But like I wrote, I didn't expect to. I actually consider last night to have been a smashing success. I was using it as a dress rehearsal for my next Stand-Up NY audition in a month. Stand-Up NY has more shows and more spots to offer. So I've got a better chance there.

After the show I met with the owner, Delilah, for feedback. I found her to be very pleasant and extremely helpful. I felt we had an excellent rapport. She had so many positive things to say that I feel like a bit of a braggart publishing them all here. But I've worked hard and I've earned this praise.

I'm blessed with a good memory for words. So here are the highlights, as best as I can remember.

---

DELILAH'S NOTES

You're a good writer. You understand the setup and the punch. Some comics' writing never gets as good as yours.

You clearly have a brain in your head. Your comedy is intellectual. That's an advantage and you should continue to use it.

You know what you want to talk about. You have good themes. It's very good that you have thought about what themes you want to use and the balance between them. You've had this particular upbringing, gay in a religious environment. And you've decided to use it which makes you different.

You're confident in your sexuality. And I don't mean gay.

Lots of comics don't know who they are ... straight comics. They're not confident in their sexuality. I see them and wonder, are you the good girl or the slut? Are you a man's man? Who are you?

You clearly know who you are in life. And you have to know who you are in life before you can know who you want to be on stage.

Your performance needs to catch up to your writing. Hanging out up here at the bar, I've seen you show more personality than you showed on stage. You were a bit timid on stage.

I'd like to see you be more biting and perhaps more flamboyant. I'd like to see you use your intellect more. You've got it. Use it. Think, "larger than life."

But, no one can tell you who you should be on stage. That has to come from you.

You're still figuring out who you want to be on stage. This will come naturally over time.

The computer jokes are good but maybe went on a little long. Choose the strongest ones and cut it down.

(And I've saved the best for last ....)

[once you've grown some more] I'd put you in a gay show. But I'm looking for black comics who can play a white room. I'm looking for gay comics who can play a straight room. I want to have a good mix of different comics.

I think you could have crossover appeal.

---

!!! WOW !!!

That last comment has me doing little victory dances! I'm delighted! I'm ecstatic! It is absolutely what I want and the goal I've been striving toward.

I do gay shows occasionally. Hey! I love the gays! But 95% of the rooms I play are 90% straight. I write to a straight audience.

When I started this, I said I wanted to talk to straight people about their sexuality from a gay point of view. I said I wanted to show them that we're all pretty much the same. Lust is lust. Selfishness is selfishness. Love is love. And ex-lovers all say the same stupid stuff.

Now I'm mostly still working on writing about myself, telling my story. But I've started writing material toward this goal of making the audience relate to my sexuality, even though I'm gay and they're mostly not. The "Gay is Trendy" is a bit about that.

As with my Stand-Up NY audition, the feedback was overwhelmingly positive and encouraging. And the constructive criticism was very helpful and not particularly surprising.

Delilah said she'd see me again in 6 months ... which is industry code for "we like you, kid, but you're not there yet."

Regardless, this experience has been energizing. I reaffirms that I'm on the right track. I know what I'm doing. I know where I'm going.

Man oh man do I love this!

Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!

80s Jokes - Part 4

(If you're just joining this series already in progress, please use the links at the right to jump to the intro.)

There were about 30 people in the crowd Saturday night at Joe Franklin Comedy Club, which is great turn out for that club. They were a real challenge. I've gotten more laughs in that room from a crowd half the size. And boy oh boy did I learn a lot.

80s Jokes -- Version 4.0 -- Transcript

As you can tell by my hair the 80s are back. {N}

Which is a big relief for me because I've been listening to the same Duran Duran and Pet Shop Boys albums for 20 years. But now that it's come back 'round. I'm cool again. The New York Times said so. {N}

I love pop music. Vapid Boys Bands, Boobalicious Britney, Christina Skank-u-lara. {N} Whatever her name is.

I like my pop stars thin, gorgeous and without a single thought in their pretty little heads. {C}

As far as I'm concerned, the most brilliant song lyrics ever written, Samantha Fox, Naughty Girls Need Love Too. {N}

So when grunge and rap took over 15 years ago, boy was I pissed off. This was me during the 90s....

[fingers in ears, eyes clenched shut ... chanting loudly like a kid who doesn't want to listen]

"LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! [singing] I know what boys like. I know what boys want." {N}

RUNNING TIME -- 0:55

Notes

I'm not posting the sound file because, well, there are no laughs on it. As you can see from the transcript, the bit got only one small chuckle. By the end of the act out, I felt like I'd walked the plank. So I ran as fast as my little comedy feet would carry me back to proven material, which started getting the laughs.

So what happened?

The crowd was one of the youngest I've ever played. Table after table was full of 18-22 year old kids. And the kids don't go for the 80s jokes, at least not these kids. Which isn't surprising. Just looking at them I could tell they all listen to rap and hip hop ... Puff Daddy, or P Diddy, whatever ... M&M and Biggie Smallie. Even though I don't think the bit requires a love or even knowledge of 80s culture, they simply didn't relate to it.

Connecting to very young audiences is much harder because they don't have as much life experience and therefore don't relate to as much. They know music, getting drunk and trying to get laid ... and for a lot of them, that's it. And they have very short attention spans.

The previous audiences for these jokes were more late 20-somethings and 30-somethings. I think they're the right people for this bit.

I conceived this as an intro bit ... something light that's about me ... that I can do before the heavier stuff about my childhood. While I think the bit is good, I'm starting to think it may not be strong enough to be an intro bit.

An intro bit must work reliably with all audiences. This bit seems to be more of a niche bit.

The good news is that all three of my other new bits killed with the young audience. One even got an applause break, one of the only ones of the whole nite. They especially loved all my computer jokes. The kids always do. And my new Gay is Trendy bit did very well with them. Because it connects to their current pop culture. So it actually turned out to be a great set.

Conclusions

Leighann Lord (www.veryfunnylady.com) headlined the show Saturday. She's a brilliant lady who just oozes class. We were talking shop after the show and she said of our somewhat stingy audience, "They were facing the stage and they were paying attention. I can work with that." What a perfect attitude!

I've seen comics on stage who are doing badly start bitching at the audience. They then wonder why they bomb.

It's easy when they're drunk and boisterous. It's harder when they're subdued and skeptical. Saturday was a challenging show. Several comics did very badly. But I made it work, as Leighann did after me. And for that I'm pretty proud of myself.

These 80s jokes are cute. They aren't devastating brilliant. But they're effective with certain audiences. They should probably go later in a set, not at the beginning.

I have a certain fondness for these jokes. But being fond of one's own material is a deadly trap. This writing excercise is really helping me be much more objective about these jokes.

I will try this block again when the crowd seems right.

Bonus Lesson

Another thing happened that was a nice bit of progress for me.

Because my stage time is so precious, I tend to rehearse and plan quite a lot. If I'm rambling and unfocused, I can do maybe 4-5 bits. If I'm focused and tight, I can do 7-8 bits.

So I did my set, exactly as I planned, and then something happened for which I wasn't prepared. I didn't get the light (the signal that time's up) and I fell off the end of my set. When this has happened in the past, I've had a tendency to panic and just leap off stage.

"Uhhhhh ... thank you, goodnight!"

But I looked at the producer, she was paying attention and smiling, I kept checking and she wasn't signaling. So I kept going.

I started doing old bits I had taken out to make room for the new bits. After each one I checked again, still no signal. So I'd do another. The transitions were a tad rough for my own standards. But that's minor. The audience didn't notice or care. And I had a few too many um's and ah's while I quickly decided what to do next. Again, minor. They didn't care. And because they were proven old bits I was doing, they were working nicely.

So by keeping my cool I got to do three extra bits and had a great 10 minute set.

I don't know if the producer left me up longer by accident. Or because I was doing well on kind of a tricky night so she wanted to give the audience a few more minutes with me. But it doesn't matter. What matters is I am learning to be aware of what's happening and adapt rapidly on stage.

I can feel the pace at which I'm learning accelerating. All these little light bulbs are starting to click on in my mind. Books I've read and advice I've received are coming into focus in new and exciting ways.

For example, I've long known that the order of bits matters. And that certain subjects do and don't work with certain audiences. But until recently this has been an abstract concept. I'm starting to learn how these concepts apply directly to me, my audiences and my bits.

It's thrilling.

But it's also a little frustrating. I need stage time. The faster I can get it, the faster I'll learn.

Most importantly, I'm starting to get a certain confidence in what I'm doing. I'm starting to feel like I have some control over what happens when I'm on stage and that I can reliably deliver the laughs.

Like I said ... it's thrilling.

80s Jokes - Part 3

(If you're just joining this series already in progress, please use the links at the right to jump to the intro.)

OK. At long last I'm going to do what should have been done at the start.

80s Jokes -- Version 3.0 -- Written Script

As you can tell by my hair the 80s are back.

Which is a big relief for me because I've been listening to the same Duran Duran and Pet Shop Boys albums for 20 years. But now that it's come back 'round. I'm cool again. The New York Times said so.

I love pop music. Vapid Boys Bands, Britney Boobalicious, Christina Skank-u-lara.

I like my pop stars thin, gorgeous and without a single thought in their pretty little heads.

So when grunge and rap took over 15 years ago, boy was I pissed off. This was me during the 90s....

[fingers in ears, eyes clenched shut ... chanting loudly like a kid who doesn't want to listen]

"LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! [singing] I know what boys like. I know what boys want."

RUNNING TIME -- 0:40

Notes & Conclusions

After 15 minutes of writing it's 40% shorter and 300% better.

It's got a cute intro, The proven New York Times joke, the celebrity name thing, which I think will do better now that it stands on its own, a rewrite on the "vapid" concept, and the proven finish. All the fluff and useless tags are gone.

See, Dale? Writing is a good thing.

The next performance for this bit will be tomorrow night back at Joe Franklin Comedy Club for a "real" audience.

80s Jokes - Part 2

Still not having written it down, but having rehearsed it a fair amount, I did the 80s bit for the second time. Here's the recording.

DaleSorenson_80s_Jokes2.mp3

80s Jokes -- Version 2.0 -- Transcript
Performance at Stand-Up NY Open Mic

As you can tell by my hair the 80s are back. {N}

Which is a big relief for me because I've been listening to the same Cyndi Lauper and Pet Shop Boys albums for 20 years. {N} But now it's come 'round again. I'm cool. The New York Times said so. {B}

Must be true if The New York Times said so. {N}

I'm 36-year-old. I don't care who knows. I love pop music. Boy bands, Britney Boobalicious {N}, Christina Skank-u-lara {N} ... whatever her name is ... bring 'em on. I love it. I love my pop stars pretty and my pop music vapid. {N}

Because when I'm in the mood to dance the last thing I want is a lecture from some politically-correct millionaire about how I'm personally responsible for destroying the environment and slaughtering baby seals. {N}

So the 90s came along and rap music, R&B took over the radio stations, MTV. I was so pissed off. This was me during the 90s ... [fingers in ears, eyes clenched shut, face in a grimace ... chanting loudly like a kid who doesn't want to listen] "LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! [singing] I know what boys like. I know what boys want. {B}

RUNNING TIME -- 1:00

Notes

In making this second transcript here's what I've noticed.

Once again, I thought it went well. And once again I'm wrong, for different reasons.

There are laughs in this bit. But except for the last one, not a single one of them is where I seem to think they should be. Notice how the bold punchlines are consistently followed by {N} no audience reaction. And that the laughs that are there {B} are consistently not after punchlines.

This points even more to the need for the bit to be written down and edited. Which I'm going to do next.

One happy little accident, rearranging some of the opening lines produced a laugh I wasn't expecting, "I'm cool. The New York Times said so." So I'm definitely keeping that.

Because this was an open mic, the audience was mostly other comics. This is bad. It is bad because comics don't laugh at the same things "real" audiences laugh at. As a result, a comic gets a distorted view of his material at an open mic.

Comics like two things, sleazy and clever. They don't like cute. The joke about my hair and the two singers names I play with are definitely cute jokes. So they got nothing from the comics. But I believe a real audience will like these. I'll confirm this the next time I do this bit.

Conclusion

The bit is starting to work, in spite of me doing everything I can to screw it up.

I'm going to edit it based on where it's actually getting laughs and where I think there is still potential.

80s Jokes - Part 1

Introduction

I conceived this bit while riding the subway to a gig. I'd had a bad day and was listening to Backstreet Boys to put me in a good mood. (No, I'm not kidding.) And I started thinking about how I love pop music, 80s pop in particular.

Below is a transcript of how I did the bit the first time, before I'd committed anything to paper. Things that are meant to be punchlines are bold. The audience tells me if they actually are punchlines or not. Often with a first draft, I write things that I think are jokes and they turn out not to be. Occasionally the audience will tell me that something I didn't know was a joke, something I've written that I thought was merely setup or a segue, is actually funny in its own right. It doesn't happen often. But it's always a delight when it does, because I feel like these "accidental" jokes are free.

Audience reactions are rated in {braces}.

{A} Big laugh
{B} Modest laugh
{C} Small chuckles
{N} No laughs

Here's the recording. Right click to save the file to your drive. Mac users hold down the Control key and click to save.

DaleSorenson_80s_Jokes1.mp3

80s Jokes -- Version 1.0 -- Concept Transcript
Performance at Joe Franklin Comedy Club

So it's official now, the New York Times said it, so it must be true, the 80s are back.

Oh my God, I'm so excited, I nearly wet myself. {C}

I've been listening to the same Pet Shop Boys and Duran Duran albums for 20 years so now it come back around and I'm cool again. {N}

Which is so awesome because I love pop music. Boy bands, Britney Boobalicious {C}, Christina Skank-u-lara {C} ... whatever her name is ... bring it on. All of them. I like my pop stars pretty and my pop music vapid. {N}

Because when I'm in the mood to have fun the last thing I want is a lecture from some millionaire about how I'm personally responsible for clubbing baby seals and ruining the environment. {C} I wanna have some fun.

And the 90s came along and what'd we get? We got grunge and rap. This was me during the nineties ... [fingers in ears, eyes clenched shut, face in a grimace ... chanting loudly like a kid who doesn't want to listen] "LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! LA! {C} [singing] I know what boys like. I know what boys want. {B}

So it's all come back around. Samantha Fox is back in. "Naughty Girls Need Love Too". {N}

RUNNING TIME -- 1:20

Notes

In making this transcript I'm struck by several things. After the performance, I actually thought this was a pretty good bit. I was wrong, wrong, wrong. It was, in fact, terrible. I'm actually embarrassed by how bad this is. So much so that I'm having second thoughts about publishing it here because I don't want anyone to see how utterly wretched this is. I can't believe I actually said on stage "Oh my God, I'm so excited, I nearly wet myself." Cringe! Groan!

The only reason I'm not pulling the plug on this, is that as I write this, I've already done this bit a second time and I know the story gets better. Now it's not that I'm being a self-flagelating sniveling performing artist here. ("I suck! It's terrible! I'm a hack! Please validate me.") This bit is a good concept. But the execution was wreched this first time.

Second, I wrote "Britney Boobalicious" and "Christina Skank-u-lara" to be funny, but then didn't treat them as jokes. I stepped on my laughs. (That's comic speak for talking over the audience laughing instead of pausing to let them laugh.) I treated them as setup for "Pretty and Vapid," which didn't get a laugh. And by stepping on my laughs I cut what could have been "B" laughs down to "C" laughs. You can hear it in the recording. Timing is everything.

I got nothing on the environment joke. Not sure what's wrong there. Perhaps it's just not funny. I'll give it another chance with another audience.

I like the reference to the Samantha Fox song title. But it didn't get a laugh. If I want to keep this reference, I'll have to rework it.

Finally, like virtually all of my bits when they're first written, it's rambling and unfocused. It goes on too long and I'm trying to get too many laughs from the concept so that by the time I'm done, the well has run dry.

Conclusions

All of the problems with this bit have one very simple solution.

It needs to be written down.

I often don't write a bit down until I've tried it to see if it gets laughs. Because I think to myself, "writing is a lot of work. I don't want to invest the time to write if it turns out the bit isn't worth it."

This is lazy. But more importantly, it is absolutely dead wrong.

Writing down a 1 minute bit isn't that much work. And I can't possibly hope to discover whether a bit has potential until I've refined it.

Not writing and just peforming off the top of my head is a bad, bad habit.

It stops now.

Part of the reason for this blog is to get me in the habit of writing often and to make it natural for me. It's already working. Just look at what I've learned here.

I am, by nature, chatty and opinionated. When it comes to ideas and writing, these traits serve me well. But once I've got a long rambling idea, the editor needs to take over. The editor needs to shorten it, refine it and set it free from the extra words that bog it down.

Davinci once said that the statue is already there inside the block of stone and all he needed to do is chip away the extra bits to set it free. The same applies to comedy. The bit is there, inside all the rambling. And it's dying to be set free.

From bad beginnings, good things can still grow.

Stay tuned....

80s Jokes - Intro

Since I said this blog would be a creative diary, I thought I'd actually document something creative here. I've written a new bit about how much I love 80s music. As I work this bit out in the coming weeks, I plan to post the evolution of the script here, including comments on audience reaction. Hopefully you'll find this interesting. And hopefully I'll have some new insights from this exercise. Your comments are welcome.

New Comedy Video

I posted my latest comedy demo video today.

http://www.dalesorenson.com/comedy/recordings/

It's my performance from my recent, Round 1 Audition at Stand-Up NY. (Thanks again to everyone who came out to support me.) The club management gave me some very positive feedback and also some useful critiques. While there are definitely things I plan to change and improve about this, my industry audition set, I'm very proud of it. It's my best material and best performance to date.

The best validation I got from the feedback after the audition wasn't the nice things they said about what they liked (and they did like quite a bit), but that the constructive criticism they had was all stuff I expected and agreed with. That means that my instincts about what I'm doing are right and that I'm on the right track. That's huge. And it's far more important to me than specific comments about liking specific jokes.

Based on this performance, the management wants to see me again in a few months. Stay tuned ....

Holy Shit! You're Reading This!

People are actually reading this! And not just my Mom. My sister too!

It's almost like there are these people in the world who, somehow, I don't know, maybe ... share my blood or something? ... I know that sounds freaky ... and therefore are interested in what I write. I wonder how this weird, almost biological connection came to be. I'll have to research this strange psychic phenomenon.

I went to an open-mic tonite (more in a moment), had dinner with my good buddy Murray came home and there were 11 comments and messages waiting.

Thanks for the comments, everyone. And I'm glad to hear that so many of you are making backups.

So since I said this would be a creative journal, here are some thoughts about tonite's show.

I morn the death of the Tuesday Motel at the Village Lantern. Even though I haven't been there in a while, Matt O'Brien ran such a great, friendly, supportive room that when it closed recently I was quite sad. I cut my teeth on open-mics there.

So having some regular gigs and some polished material these days, I haven't done an open-mic in a while. To be honest, I'd gotten kinda sick of them.

Murray said he wanted to see me perform and he was only in town tonite. So, not having a gig tonite, it had to be an open-mic. Danielle, the lovely woman who runs the Stand-Up NY open-mic, had invited me to do her room, so I decided to give it a try.

Doing this show tonite reminded me of the things I actually like about open mics.

At a regular show, I feel I owe the club and the audience, a certain minimum performance. Sure, I can be spontaneous and I can try new stuff. I do at every show. But the bulk of my set at a regular gig is going to be proven material.

At an open mic, I don't owe anyone anything. So I can do whatever I want. I had three new bits, about 6 minutes of all new material, I've really been wanting to try out. It would have taken me three shows to try out these three bits. But at the open mic, I was able to find out what works and what doesn't very quickly. I came away with a very useful recording (I record everything) and ideas about how I'm going to edit this raw material.

My coaches Dan, Jim, Frank (love you guys) have all taught me to learn something from every performance.

So here's tonite's lesson. In addition to learning some specific things about this specific material, I am reminded that it is occasionally a good thing for a comic to drop into an open mic every now and then, even when he doesn't have to.

Me! Me! Me! Look at Me!

Is there anything more self indulgent than a blog? The idea that one's passing thoughts and momentary passions are so important they should be documented and published with the expectation that the world waits with baited breath to read them, is beyond hubris.

It's arrogant. It's egotistical. It's all I've ever wanted.

I've hesitated doing this for some time, because I've known there's only one person in the world absolutely guaranteed to read this.

Hi, Mom.

But then, it's lovely to know that I've got a Mom who's interested in what I have to say ... no matter how banal. That's the great thing about Moms. They find one's thoughts and activities interesting when no else will.

Why blog?

1. It's a writing exercise. An author and creative mentor of mine, Jim Mendrinos, is adamant that writers should write, even if only a little, every day. Since I may not be inspired to be funny every day, this is something else I can write. Although I'm certain I won't do this every day, it will move me a little closer to that goal.
2. This will be a creative journal. I plan to use this to document things I learn about comedy and performing, for my own benefit, if no one else's.
3. This will also, no doubt, end up being an outlet for various rants that are so inane, that my friends will not sit still for them. So I'll dump them here. You're welcome.

My inspirations for this ridiculous endeavor are two comics, friends of mine, artists who I greatly admire, Kelli Dunham and Adam Sank. I find their blogs to be witty and insightful.

The title for this blog, "Obnoxious & Inappropriate," came to me years ago, in the wee hours of the morning, while out drinking with my dear friend Paola. I wrote it down and thought it would make a good title for my memoirs. Since I don't seem to have written those yet, I'm using it here. I've always thought it captures the delicate essence of my personality and subtle nuances of the almost imperceptible effects I have on people and environments around me.

"Obnoxious & Inappropriate" ... it's how I hope to one day be remembered.