A Tale of Two Shows
It was the best of shows, it was the worst of shows, it was the age of college students, it was the age of geriatrics, it was the epoch of liveliness, it was the epoch of bingo, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of laughter, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had a snow shovel before us...
At first, I thought I'd describe two shows in their entirety, while drawing direct parallels from A Tale of Two Cities. Then, I got bored after a few lines. Instead, I'll tell the story in the form of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
Last week, I performed at the DC Improv, along with Dennis Regan and Jimmy Merritt. All of the shows were splendid. Thanks to everyone who came out. I don't throw around words like "splendid" willy-nilly.
I had to miss the Friday shows, due to a previously scheduled college show in Moorhead, MN, at Concordia College. Concordia is one mile from Fargo, ND. Yes, Fargo, like the movie. It looks just like that. A white, barren wasteland, full of nice people. I'm pretty sure everyone is white too. That has nothing to do with anything though.
On Thursday, my college agent (Bass-Schuler - Call them to get me to perform at your school) called and asked if I wanted to do an extra show for faculty and staff when I'm there. I'm not sure what the difference between faculty and staff is. But it doesn't matter. The staff show was to be at 7PM in Fargo. The student show would be at 9PM in Moorhead. For the staffaculty, I would only be doing 30 minutes. At the other show, I would be doing a minimum of an hour.
I was told that the staff would be in their mid-20s to mid-30s. That made sense, with it being a college, and a comedy show. Going in to the show, I knew it was an Evangelical Christian school, which means the show would have to be 100% clean. That wouldn't be a problem. I figured it would be like any other Catholic school I've done. Then I read that this school graduates more Evangelical Lutheran ministers than any school in the country. That's when I realized it's not just a traditionally religious school. This drive-in still shows movies. Still not a problem though. It just means that it's not the type of school that says they want a clean show, but don't really care about content.
I did a "clean" show at a college in PA last year. When I got there, I asked about specific content restrictions. They said, "Try not to say cunt. And don't say fuck a lot." Not a problem. This show would not be like that, however.
I arrived in Fargo at 6:40 for my 7PM show. It was in a ballroom at a Holiday Inn. Two female students greeted me in the lobby. They were cool. At the time, I thought they were members of the staffaculty and were a sample of what the show would be. Then I walked into the ballroom. There were about 150 people there. Seven people under the age of 40 were seated at one table. Two other people under 40 were seated at another table. The roughly 140 other people in attendance were between the ages of 70 and infinity, with many leaning toward infinity. I love old people. But not when I have to perform for them. I can't relate to them in any way. I threw out all my jokes about my Wayne Newton records skipping whenever I put them on the grammophone long ago.
The age of the audience, we'll call a hurdle. A big hurdle. Here comes another big hurdle, actually it wasn't like running the hurdles. It was more like doing the steeplechase while being shot at. They told me my set would be at 7:30, instead of 7. This change in plans was made to ensure that people ARE eating when I'm on stage. You never want people to be eating while you're performing, because they can't pay attention. Even if they are listening, you can't laugh with a mouth full of rice. Also, the tables were round, which meant that half of the audience wouldn't be facing me. Perfect. Just how I like it.
Dear Fargo,
Could you please throw one more obstacle in the way?
Love,
Ryan
Ryan,
How about if we do a five minute prayer right before your set?
Sincerely,
Fargo
P.S. Would you like to perform in front of a podium?
Far-Far,
That should do it.
One,
RC
Yes, a long prayer to get the crowd warmed up. The irony of this is that the minister was super-cool. If I lived in Fargo, I would be good friends with her. She's definitely the first member of clergy who I've heard say "fuck." That tells me that she's not too Jesus-y. I asked her about content. She told me not to worry about it, and that PG-13 would be fine. I disagreed. I asked if I could say "porn." She said that wouldn't be a problem. I still felt uncomfortable. I think there's an unwritten rule that you can't say porn within 30-minutes of a prayer. It's like the no-swimming after eating thing.
I went up for the set. The young people were laughing the whole time, and were cool. The only problem was that the young people made up roughly 6.5% of the crowd. I surprisingly got a decent amount of laughs at the beginning. Don't get me wrong. I was still bombing. But it wasn't silent. Then I saw a handheld wireless mic on a shelf on the podium. I grabbed it, after announcing to the crowd that it would be time for a mic switch. Guess what? The mic didn't work. I put it back on the shelf, and went back into a joke. Then the mic rolled off the shelf and hit the stage with a huge thud. "The mic definitely won't work now," I said, to the second-biggest laugh of the night. I bent down to pick the mic up to put it back on the shelf. When I did that, a snow shovel fell out of the podium. That was not a typo. A fucking snow shovel. So I picked it up, and there I stood with a mic in one hand and a snow shovel in the other, and said, "Only in Fargo would there be a snow shovel in a podium." This killed. But I didn't mean it as a joke. It was actually said out of frustration.
Other highlights from the set:
During a joke in which I quoted someone saying, "If English is good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for us," A couple people booed. There is nothing boo-able about it though. Flabbergasted, I finished the joke to a an acceptable amount of laughter, which means it wasn't quiet enough for me to contemplate suicide.
The next part of the joke involves me mentioning a sex-ed class. When I said "sex-ed," a couple people got up and left the room. I wanted to say, "Oh, you're the parents of the kids who opt out of sex-ed, and your kids get pregnant when they're 17? Nice to meet you." But then I would be scared for my safety, provided anyone in the audience could walk on their own.
I finished my set and carried the snow shovel off stage with me, overhead, like a sword, after a victorious battle. I sat down, and waited for my food, so I could leave for the next show. Next up was the school president. While sincerely stating, "I get nervous when I have to follow a funny person," an elderly man with a southern accent, and sitting right behind me, shouted, "You won't have a problem with that!" I was heckled after my set, by an elderly man. Rock-motherfuckin'-bottom.
An hour and a half later, I performed at the school, for over 400 students. It was awesome, and made up for performing for the students' great-grandparents. Uff-da.
At first, I thought I'd describe two shows in their entirety, while drawing direct parallels from A Tale of Two Cities. Then, I got bored after a few lines. Instead, I'll tell the story in the form of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
Last week, I performed at the DC Improv, along with Dennis Regan and Jimmy Merritt. All of the shows were splendid. Thanks to everyone who came out. I don't throw around words like "splendid" willy-nilly.
I had to miss the Friday shows, due to a previously scheduled college show in Moorhead, MN, at Concordia College. Concordia is one mile from Fargo, ND. Yes, Fargo, like the movie. It looks just like that. A white, barren wasteland, full of nice people. I'm pretty sure everyone is white too. That has nothing to do with anything though.
On Thursday, my college agent (Bass-Schuler - Call them to get me to perform at your school) called and asked if I wanted to do an extra show for faculty and staff when I'm there. I'm not sure what the difference between faculty and staff is. But it doesn't matter. The staff show was to be at 7PM in Fargo. The student show would be at 9PM in Moorhead. For the staffaculty, I would only be doing 30 minutes. At the other show, I would be doing a minimum of an hour.
I was told that the staff would be in their mid-20s to mid-30s. That made sense, with it being a college, and a comedy show. Going in to the show, I knew it was an Evangelical Christian school, which means the show would have to be 100% clean. That wouldn't be a problem. I figured it would be like any other Catholic school I've done. Then I read that this school graduates more Evangelical Lutheran ministers than any school in the country. That's when I realized it's not just a traditionally religious school. This drive-in still shows movies. Still not a problem though. It just means that it's not the type of school that says they want a clean show, but don't really care about content.
I did a "clean" show at a college in PA last year. When I got there, I asked about specific content restrictions. They said, "Try not to say cunt. And don't say fuck a lot." Not a problem. This show would not be like that, however.
I arrived in Fargo at 6:40 for my 7PM show. It was in a ballroom at a Holiday Inn. Two female students greeted me in the lobby. They were cool. At the time, I thought they were members of the staffaculty and were a sample of what the show would be. Then I walked into the ballroom. There were about 150 people there. Seven people under the age of 40 were seated at one table. Two other people under 40 were seated at another table. The roughly 140 other people in attendance were between the ages of 70 and infinity, with many leaning toward infinity. I love old people. But not when I have to perform for them. I can't relate to them in any way. I threw out all my jokes about my Wayne Newton records skipping whenever I put them on the grammophone long ago.
The age of the audience, we'll call a hurdle. A big hurdle. Here comes another big hurdle, actually it wasn't like running the hurdles. It was more like doing the steeplechase while being shot at. They told me my set would be at 7:30, instead of 7. This change in plans was made to ensure that people ARE eating when I'm on stage. You never want people to be eating while you're performing, because they can't pay attention. Even if they are listening, you can't laugh with a mouth full of rice. Also, the tables were round, which meant that half of the audience wouldn't be facing me. Perfect. Just how I like it.
Dear Fargo,
Could you please throw one more obstacle in the way?
Love,
Ryan
Ryan,
How about if we do a five minute prayer right before your set?
Sincerely,
Fargo
P.S. Would you like to perform in front of a podium?
Far-Far,
That should do it.
One,
RC
Yes, a long prayer to get the crowd warmed up. The irony of this is that the minister was super-cool. If I lived in Fargo, I would be good friends with her. She's definitely the first member of clergy who I've heard say "fuck." That tells me that she's not too Jesus-y. I asked her about content. She told me not to worry about it, and that PG-13 would be fine. I disagreed. I asked if I could say "porn." She said that wouldn't be a problem. I still felt uncomfortable. I think there's an unwritten rule that you can't say porn within 30-minutes of a prayer. It's like the no-swimming after eating thing.
I went up for the set. The young people were laughing the whole time, and were cool. The only problem was that the young people made up roughly 6.5% of the crowd. I surprisingly got a decent amount of laughs at the beginning. Don't get me wrong. I was still bombing. But it wasn't silent. Then I saw a handheld wireless mic on a shelf on the podium. I grabbed it, after announcing to the crowd that it would be time for a mic switch. Guess what? The mic didn't work. I put it back on the shelf, and went back into a joke. Then the mic rolled off the shelf and hit the stage with a huge thud. "The mic definitely won't work now," I said, to the second-biggest laugh of the night. I bent down to pick the mic up to put it back on the shelf. When I did that, a snow shovel fell out of the podium. That was not a typo. A fucking snow shovel. So I picked it up, and there I stood with a mic in one hand and a snow shovel in the other, and said, "Only in Fargo would there be a snow shovel in a podium." This killed. But I didn't mean it as a joke. It was actually said out of frustration.
Other highlights from the set:
During a joke in which I quoted someone saying, "If English is good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for us," A couple people booed. There is nothing boo-able about it though. Flabbergasted, I finished the joke to a an acceptable amount of laughter, which means it wasn't quiet enough for me to contemplate suicide.
The next part of the joke involves me mentioning a sex-ed class. When I said "sex-ed," a couple people got up and left the room. I wanted to say, "Oh, you're the parents of the kids who opt out of sex-ed, and your kids get pregnant when they're 17? Nice to meet you." But then I would be scared for my safety, provided anyone in the audience could walk on their own.
I finished my set and carried the snow shovel off stage with me, overhead, like a sword, after a victorious battle. I sat down, and waited for my food, so I could leave for the next show. Next up was the school president. While sincerely stating, "I get nervous when I have to follow a funny person," an elderly man with a southern accent, and sitting right behind me, shouted, "You won't have a problem with that!" I was heckled after my set, by an elderly man. Rock-motherfuckin'-bottom.
An hour and a half later, I performed at the school, for over 400 students. It was awesome, and made up for performing for the students' great-grandparents. Uff-da.
posted by ryanconnercomedy at 4:14 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home