HMC Open Mike night, 7/30/09

Open Mike Night last week not a total success, but was a fine learning experience.

Upon entrance to the venue, I found the place packed with loud, snockered golfers, carousing loudly and working their way up Highway 4 towards other bars and their next DUI. I bravely and dumbly set up my equipment and started my set, with darn little notice from the assemblage. After a few muddled jokes, I tardily realized that it wasn't a good night for it, and took a seat at the bar to wait it out.

If there's one thing a student of comedy is never short on, it's advice from people who don't know anything about comedy. For example, I've recently had the un-brilliant and well-meaning counsel that I should get up and perform some of Bill Cosby's material or George Carlin's, just to get people going. Granted, this was on a night that my own original material wasn't slaying the crowd, but it wasn't so bad as to resort comedic plagarism. Non-comics don't understand that this course of action is tantamount to spitting on your mother. I tried to explain that it's far better to fail with your own material than succeed with stolen material, but I guess it amounts to a cultural thing. It's like the Matrix - no one can be "told" what the Matrix is; you have to experience the relevant importance of the issue at hand before understanding it.

With that said, I did get one nugget of useful tutelage from an 80 year-old Russian barfly who otherwise tells the same stories like a reel-to-reel tape stuck on "loop." She said: "Joov got to grab dem! Dey ain't gonna listen unless joo grab dem!" And she was right.

My comedy style is dry, clever and conversational, but is not multi-dimensional, loud or intrusive. I've got very few short, punchy bits, and absolutely no setup/punch, street-joke-type material. That's just my style. However, it occurred to me even before the mummy's advice if I were to attempt to scale the attention summit that this crowd presented, some assertive, brief and ribald zingers would have been the tools to pull from the toolbox. It's a stretch for me, but hey, I can stretch. Food for thought.

Not having those particular tools at hand, I chilled out until the crowd dissipated. It was unfortunate, but I considered the venue's view: one of the larger purposes of an Open Mike Night is to gets some butts into the venue's seats on a slow night. If the place is already rolling with a crowd that isn't into it, why force amateur night on them and chase paying customers out of the joint?

The evening eventually rolled on with my comedic material and a few musicians who sat and drank in the bar for most of the two hours allotted for Open Mike Night, only to get their instruments out and start playing five minutes from the end of my available time. I let them run long through a few songs, but I had to cut it short and pack up, as I had miles to go before I slept. They grumbled disappointedly, but unlike them I couldn't indulge myself in a short drive home, loaded to the gills; Captain Killjoy had an hour drive, an equipment unload and work the next day to look forward to, so he packed up his shit and left. So be it.