More than 30 years ago – in 1984 to be precise – I auditioned at The Comic Strip in New York City. I was young and naive, and I didn’t realize that – while stand up comics appear to be talking off-the-cuff – they actually memorize scripted material. Sure, they may go rogue on occasion – like when someone shouts a comment from the audience – but for the most part, their material is pre-written – precisely worded so that every syllable counts.
Unsuspecting 20-year-old me “winged it” at my audition at The Comic Strip. I told my most hilarious stories – like the babysitting nightmare I wrote about in Goodbye Jell-O Brick Road. I had a few cheap tricks in my back pocket, in case nobody laughed … an impression of fallopian tubes … an impersonation of Marie Osmond with pins in her eyes. But for the most part, I ad libbed. And much to my amazement, the club asked me back.
We’re talking The Comic Strip, where many now-famous comedians began their careers – Chris Rock, Jerry Seinfeld, Eddie Murphy, Ray Romano, Adam Sandler … and the powers that be saw something in me and asked me back.
And I never went.
Trying to be funny, without the safety net of an actual script, was terrifying. My knees were shaking, my palms were sweating, my heart was racing. Not only didn’t I believe I could recreate my improvised routine; I didn’t think I could withstand such a traumatic experience again.
That’s okay, I thought. What I really want is musical theater, anyway. I’ll find another way to make people laugh.
I tried to get into show business for two years, but lacked the required demeanor. I believe I had the talent, but I couldn’t stop thinking about “someday.” What if I never made it? What if I woke up in 20 years and I was still a nobody, with no fallback career or regular paycheck?
Back in the early eighties, there just weren’t any parts for short ethnic girls of size. There was no Hairspray. There was no Les Mis. Even the townspeople in Fiddler on the Roof looked like Sophia Vergara. There wasn’t an ugly person in Anatevka. And there was basically one TV role out there for a young large girl – Natalie on The Facts of Life – and that part was taken. The only agent who ever agreed to meet with me told me to go find something else to do for 20 years; I was uncastable.
So I pursued a master’s in journalism. And today I make a living as a writer … corporate gigs by day, humor writing as an outlet.
In the many years since the early eighties, I’ve been told on countless occasions that I’d be a great stand up comedienne. I’ve always shrugged it off, believing I could never – would never – put myself through that agony again.
But all through the late ’80s and ’90s, when stand up comedians were getting lucrative television deals, I couldn’t help wondering what might have been. Would I have made it as a comedienne? Could that have been my ticket to making people laugh in a sitcom or Broadway musical? Look at Rosie O’Donnell. She’s not even much of a singer and got to play Rizzo in Grease, not to mention her successful talk show. Once again, I think I missed the boat.
So after years of coulda, woulda, shoulda, I decided to find out once and for all if I can cut the comedy mustard. I recently returned from the Erma Bombeck Writer’s Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, where I got the chance to try my hand at stand up comedy for the first time … surrounded by the support of other mostly-middle-aged funny people from every genre – novelists, essayists, columnists, sitcom writers, public speakers and screenwriters. It was a phenomenal experience.
I was one of a dozen conference attendees chosen to try a four-minute stand up set on Saturday night, at the conclusion of the conference. So it was a safe environment to try something I had wondered about for three decades.
My biggest fear wasn’t that I wouldn’t be funny; it was that my midlife memory would vacate the premises, and I’d find myself under a spotlight with no idea what on earth my next line was. Unlike in the theater (where actors routinely “save” each other), with comedy, you’re on your own. There is no one to rescue you but yourself. That’s what makes it so daunting for a newbie.
People who know me can’t understand how a gregarious talker and actress can be terrified of anything that slightly resembles public speaking. Give me a costume and a character – blackout my teeth for Bloody Mary or put me in smeared lipstick and a dress with a hole in the armpit for Miss Hannigan – and I can perform in front of hundreds of people, no problem. But make me stand in front of 10 coworkers or sing at a recital – any situation where all eyes are on me, not a character, and I get so verklempt I can barely remember my own name.
In the summer of 2014, I was asked to read one of my own pieces in front of an audience at a big blogging conference in San Jose, and my hands were shaking so badly, when I got off the stage someone asked me if I had Parkinson’s.
So just over a year ago, I decided to join Toastmasters to become more comfortable being myself in front of a crowd. Toastmasters offers regular opportunities to get up in front of a group and give short speeches on topics of your choice. You start out with five- to seven-minute speeches that each concentrate on a different element of being a good presenter. In one speech, you might focus on your body movement; in another, you might focus on your voice – varying your pitch, tone and rate of speaking to achieve a maximum effect. You get “dinged” with a penny in a tin cup when you use verbal crutches such as “um,” “uh,” “so,” “anyway,” and you quickly learn to both think on your feet and to think before you speak. I’m not sure when it happened, but sometime during this past year, my hands stopped shaking. One day I gave a speech and noticed the tremors were gone.
On stand up comedy night at the Erma conference, I was dead last in the line up. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of humor and wanted the middle-aged lady with memory issues to sit in fear for as long as humanly possible. It wasn’t my turn until after 11 p.m. – two hours past my peak. I had a cheat sheet, and I had to look at it a couple of times, but the audience laughed, and when it was over, I was so proud of myself for walking through a 30-year fear. That was the best part of the experience: silently saying “Die, fear!” What a metaphor that is for my life. What else have I tabled because I’m afraid? And what will I tackle next?
Encouraged by my reception at the Erma conference, I signed up for a stand up workshop at McCurdy’s comedy club in Sarasota, FL. The workshop culminated with a five-minute set at the club (one whole minute more of material!) Again, I was dead last, so I had to sit for an hour and a half in a state of panic. But people laughed – people who didn’t know me. And this time, it felt a little more comfortable. I fell into more of a rhythm with the audience.
Two times trying stand up does not a comedienne make. I did so much better the second time, but comics learn from playback tapes, just like football players. I see lots of things I want to improve. For some reason, for instance, when I’m in funny mode, I contort my posture into that of Quasi Moto. I’m also not comfortable with a mic. And while I thought I was speaking slowly, the video reveals that I still talk at a New York pace and step on my own laughs.
I’m definitely not comfortable interacting with the audience yet. An actor/director friend says that comes from being more secure with my routine. When you’re worried about your next line, you can’t chat with the audience, because you fear you’ll never find your way back to your material. You have to get your material down, so you can “be present.”
I also wore a flowy top that added about 40 pounds (I kid you not!). So I learned that my husband is right (darn it; he always is!). As a big girl, my inclination is to wear loose things that hide my shape … but they actually do make me look heavier! Live and learn.
But here it is: my second attempt at stand up comedy. I cannot begin to tell you what it takes for me to put this out there. I look at this and all I see is my weight … and the things I did wrong. I know I have a long way to go. But I’m sharing this with you – raw as it is – because I’m so proud of myself for trying this, after all this time. And I’m a perfectionist that needs to let go and stop waiting for everything to be flawless all the time. So here it is: warts and all. And I ask you:
What are you afraid of? And how might it change your life to finally conquer your fear?
BRAVA, Darling!! Hysterical perfection!!!
Oh my gosh. Thank you! You are so kind!!!
This was fantastic. Great routine! I can relate to your discomfort, apprehension and lack of confidence when standing up in front of a group to be yourself. I’m a late bloomer and finally faced my fears and did some improv interactive plays while in my mid 40’s. It was my first time doing this and I was scared as hell, but soooo glad I did it. Learned a lot about myself. Keep making us laugh…you’re an inspiration and you look great!
I’ve been dying to try improv! I’ve met a lot of people that have told me it’s the best training there is for being able to think on your feet. Kathy Kinney (Mimi on The Drew Carey Show) stressed the importance of improv training for a comedian, when I met her at the Erma Bombeck conference a month ago. That’s awesome that you faced your fear and tried it. I can’t rave enough about Toastmasters, too. It’s a different kind of thinking on your feet. A handful of people give speeches each week, but everyone else is called upon during the meeting to speak. There is always a Table Topics section, where members are chosen to stand and answer random questions. It’s scary and nerve-wracking, but I’m getting a little better at it. The moral of both of our stories: It’s never too late to work on your skills and fears and to reinvent yourself! Thank you so much for the positive words!
You are AMAZING!!! LOVE…LOVE…LOVE!!!!
Thank you, Cyndi! I hope to get better and better! I have lots of ideas for new material!
Parri- I love this post! And you killed it on comedy night! You are a natural. I’m so proud of you.
You are so sweet. And I am so grateful to have such a supportive friend in my life!
Awesome Parri!
Thanks my friend! Like I said, definitely not flawless, but I’m proud of myself.
I love you Parri! Your honesty and ambition are lovely. You inspire me too. As I turn 70 next week I realize I’m not ready to just play bingo, bunco and eat food I don’t like at gardening clubs, etc. I might need to sign up for Laura Scott’s coaching!
You are the youngest 70-year-old I ever met. It’s NEVER to late to learn new things. Look at you, becoming a humorous speaker at Toastmasters!At Erma, they told us that humorous keynote speakers can earn quite a pretty penny. Thank you for all of your support! And for being such a ray of sunshine in my life! And for helping me keep my mind sharp by being my Words With Friends buddy
Bravo, Parri! So much improved after only 2 tries, and you made me laugh out loud, again. You seemed much more comfortable on stage this time and slowed it down a bit–you totally rocked it! I’m so, so proud of you. Once again you are metamorphosing and I’m loving the transition. Keep it up, Girlfriend! I can’t wait till your next set. 🙂
Thank you so much for your support, my friend! It does seem like my life can go in a lot o different directions right now. I’m just going to pursue my many passions and see where it leads me! I really appreciate how I always know you’re in my corner!
Parri, I laughed so hard at this, Hubs ran down the all to find out “who I was talking to” in my office! I replayed it for him. We watched it twice, and laughed our faces off both times! You are HILARIOUS. More, more, more, please!!
Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I’m glad I could start your day with a smile!
That’s my girl! Bravo!
Thank you!
Nice job, Parri. Always fun to keep track of everyone and see how we’re growing and what paths our lives are taking. Who would have thought 25-30 years ago we would all be where we are today? So nice to see you living one of your dreams, and being successful to boot! Hugs to Jim!!
Thank you, Elena! Lots of changes here, but I’m not ready to go public yet on my blog! Lori will tell you. And yes. That’s the wonderful thing about old friends … you get to see them keep reinventing themselves and pivoting in new directions. I hope you are well! Thank you so much for the support and positive feedback.
So funny. Loved every minute. You killed it.
Thank you, Stacey! How many times do you think we have to do this, before it becomes less nerve-wracking? Right now, I’m not ready to interact with the audience! I’m too busy trying to remember my next line. LOL.
Parri, this is wonderful – you are great. I look forward to watching your career take off after this. And, sorry I didn’t wait to see you at EBWW – I would have loved it. Good luck!
Thank you so much, Pam! That means a lot! I just loved my experience at Erma. I left so inspired and ready to conquer the world. … and truly believing that you’re never too old to be what you might have been!
So proud of you! You were terrific!!
Thanks, Linda. Definitely a little easier the second time. Still terrifying!!!
I missed going to the EB workshop this year. And now I’m brokenhearted because I missed seeing you live. Thank you for sharing this. Parri, you frikkin’ rock! I’d pay to see you do standup.
Wow! What a compliment. I’m honored that you think of me as worthy of a cover charge. LOL. I have a long way to go, and it’s still absolutely terrifying. But I’m hoping it gets easier and I can relax enough to start enjoying myself. We missed you at Erma, too! Thank you so much for all of your support and kind words.
This is fantastic! And part of the reason it’s so funny is because I can relate to every thing you said!
Getting older is terrifying, isn’t it? The memory … the body … all that deterioration. If we don’t laugh, we’ll cry!
You were amazing!!!!! Just amazing!!
Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! Terrifying, though. Absolutely terrifying!
Bread sticks are a gateway to baguettes!
Bwahahahahahahaha!
Girl i peed a little lol
Wo! That may be the ultimate compliment! Thank you!!!
You should add a ‘poise pad advisory’ light*, medium** or heavy***
Funny! Maybe you should be a comedienne, too!
I always say God has a sense of humor and I’m a huge source of His entertainment lol
Go, Parri! First of all, you were REALLY great! You are a natural! Really, truly. Yes it takes incredible work to get better, but you are hysterical. Loved it.
Also–I so identify with your story.
Thank you so much, Ivy. This is terriying, for sure, and I’m not really sure why I’m putting myself through this. But it is oddly exciting at the same time. I hope once I have my material more downpat, I’ll be able to relax and have more fun!
Absolutely great Parri. Super proud of you on your journey! Fabuloso😝
Thank you so much for such kind words!
Parri,
You crushed it! I knew you could and would! You seemed very relaxed and in control of the situation. You can tell you have worked on slowing down the pace! I am amazed how you can rapid-fire off your descriptions without stumbling.
Great material, as always! I think you need to start working on another minute or two! The requests are going to start coming!
You are, indeed, cover-charge-worthy!
P.S. You might consider changing the line about waking up before you “go-go” to “HOPING you wake up…”. It could get a few extra laughs and possibly draw some protest from Enuresis Sufferers Anonymous. Think of the extra publicity!
Wow. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to get the seal of approval from the funniest guy at Toastmasters … winner of the humor trophy!!! You make me laugh every time you get up there. And I am so grateful to our club for helping me get better and better and lose my shakes!
Heard about you through Vikki Caflin – so glad I clicked through – I laughed my head off (and accidentally pee’d a bit:- no one will notice 🙂
I’m so glad you found me! Thank you so much for your positive words! I’m pee-worthy. YAY!
Parri, not only is your subject matter incredibly funny, but your expressions, inflection, and gestures are spot on! You did good, girl!
Thank you so much, Jana!
I had no idea! You’ve found your calling, Parri. That’s good stuff!
Thank you so much!
(((Fabulous stuff.
I enjoyed every single word out of your mouth.
Thank you for the giggle! x
Hope you do this again!!
Thank you so much! Terrifying as it is, I’m determined to do this again and hope to get better and better! I appreciate your kind words and positive feedback!
Love it Parri! Great material, great expressions, great job at facing those fears!
XOXO Sarah
Thank you, Sarah!
I just found your card in the bag I used for shlepping things to and fro and I laughed just thinking about your routine. They put you on last because you were by far the funniest person in our class at McCurdys (by far! Like from here to the moon and back). Everyone who came to see me loved you! They thought you were a professional comic. BTW, I have the same problem on stage.; my husband said I looked like I was trying to make myself into the letter C I was so hunched over. Since they didn’t film the first half of my set they have offered me a free class, but I can’t imagine a class without you. You made me laugh. I love you blog. I hope to see you on stage again soon.