The Saint

I was less than a week out from a very important comedy show, and I was jumpy. I'd been hitting open mikes in anticipation, trying to get the right mix for my set list, and working on my stage presence. I've been doing open mikes for some years now, but I still get a bad case of Tin Man Syndrome, and this will just not do for a show I produce in my own back yard.

As is my way, when faced with a nagging, persistent problem that requires swift and consistent effort, I lolly-gagged on Facebook. As it turns out, it was the best thing for me to do.

A noted comic in the region (who shall remain nameless) hit me up for a chat session. He is much more active and experienced in comedy than I am, so when he talks, I listen. It didn't take long for me to bring up my pre-game jitters and "oil can!" performance lament. "Your problem is a simple," he said. "You're not comfortable with your material." He went on describe what I had suspected in the back of my mind, but couldn't bring into focus: I was tentative and timid in performing, because I either hadn't memorized my material sufficiently, or didn't feel strong about it for other reasons.

I set about writing up a set list, dumping the weaker bits, and trimming and strengthening the rest. With that done, I drilled on the remainder, wearing grooves in my brain so that one word led to the next, and to the next, and so on. I've done this before, but for some reason had allowed complacency to rob me of what little discipline I'd had.

I've never met the guy, save through online contact, but he has yet to refuse an opportunity to lend a hand. Usually just a nudge in the right direction, helping me to stay on track, but sometimes more, taking an extended period of time to share his experiences and viewpoint. He's been so open and positive, I've taken to calling him "The Saint," for his nearly inexhaustible patience and willingness to offer ideas and expertise. Early on in my comedy works in the area, I was put off by some experiences I'd had: a few folks were stingy with information, reluctant to help or even backed out on gentleman's agreements. Some of this is to be expected of course; you can't expect people to fall all over themselves to embrace someone they've never met. Still, the circumstances were off-putting, and I had started to become disillusioned with the stories I'd heard about comedians collaborating on projects, tuning up each other's material and helping each other find work.

Luckily, I found that as I became less "the new guy," several active performers in the area began to share their opinions and insights. As I make small efforts here and there to contribute in my own small ways, a kind of karma has kicked into gear - seriously disturbing my cynical view of humans and the universe. Troubling, that.

I've thanked several in my circle for their contributions, The Saint most often and most earnestly. As time wears on, I can feel a positive sort of debit system building, keeping me on the lookout for the opportunity to do a good turn, especially (but not only) to those who've shown me some grace.

After a particularly time-consuming bull session, I asked The Saint what I could do to repay him for his time and selfessness. He replied with a continued invitation to hit him up for advice in the future and to: "Just pay it forward, man." Is it any wonder I call him "The Saint?"