I might be a little strange, but I've always been a pretty huge fan of laughing. Over the years, I've also come to enjoy public speaking. So guess what I did this past Thursday? Yep, combined the two passions and jumped feet first into performing some standup comedy. I was joined by two buddies in attacking the stage, and we organized quite the group of friends to come cheer us and and provide some much needed moral support.It was quite the experience standing up in front of 100+ wall-to-wall people armed only with my self-manufactured weapons of humor (I'll call my creations WMDs - Weapons of Mediocre Destruction). Now that I can say that I'm somewhat 'experienced', it is an excellent feeling to know that I took on the challenge. I guess there could be multitudes of reasons for doing something like this (and voluntarily exposing any vulnerability you may have to a group of complete strangers). Maybe people do it for a shot at fame? Just the rush of doing something crazy? A chance to pickup some comedy groupies? Winning cash and/or prizes? I guess my decision was influenced by a bit of all of it, and maybe even some other reasons.
What did I learn? Well, to be cliché, like anything, you can't really relate unless you have also done it. This was perhaps the first time in my life that I've even performed anything in front of strangers. So if you've at least done that, maybe you can relate to the feeling that there is none, and never will be, any kind of concrete consensus or absolute critique of your performance. Maybe you thought that it sucked. Maybe half of the crowd thought the same thing. Surely at least your friends will give you some sympathetic compliments. But, just maybe, some people actually genuinely enjoyed part of it. I've also come to a point in my life that I generally don't get anxious or nervous beforehand when giving a speech or taking part in some activity. Of course, you should always be prepared, but what purpose is served by getting worked up before you even start something? True, maybe you will die while participating in this activity. Maybe you will suffer a stroke and end up having to feed yourself through a tube for the rest of your life. But guess what, most likely, none of this will happen. And even if it does, why should you worry about it before it may even happen? Now you're stressed out, and you have a busted brain.
All of this is to say that we humans can control our emotions and even our states of mind prior to stepping out of our comfort zone, but we definitely can't always manage the after effects. It was a very strange feeling after delivering the set. I've always heard musicians say things like how they feel that with each live performance they give, they leave behind a bit of their soul. I always thought that must be some artist-load-of-BS, but maybe there's something to it. I felt as though I had just taken a huge mind dump on the stage, so of course you feel a little bit empty afterwards.
And another point - I have an even greater respect for professional comedians now. That's hard work! There are so many different aspects that you must consider - the preparation, delivery, strategy, timing, crowd management, human psychology, and the list goes on.. As I found, the venue and mood of the crowd are also so very key. And that's another thing that we can't manage. With my particular venue (i.e., a foreigner bar in Seoul, Korea) it seemed a bit like the crowd wasn't even really there to listen to comedy! It was just more like a typical night at the bar, temporarily interrupted by some assholes who wanted to grab a mic and hear themselves talk.
So that's it in a nutshell. Frustrating. Exhausting. Nerve wracking. Ambiguous. So much doubt, uncertainty, and so many opportunities to second-guess yourself. But, overall I'm glad to say that I've actually had the experience. I have tried several dozen times to upload a video of the performance, but the digital gods are not smiling on the practice. But if you're interested, and we're Facebook friends, check out the video there.
To keep the train rolling, shortly after that first time (exactly 3 nights later), my other buddy also wanted to give some standup a shot. A local bar holds an open mic for acoustic music on Sunday nights. I was doubtful that the owner would even allow a couple guys get up on the stage just to yammer. But we finally got the go ahead, and we opened up for the real talent. It actually did feel a little bit easier that second time, so maybe I'll keep trying this stuff..
