As you may know, with all the “buzz” going on in the “blogosphere” and the “Twitterverse” and “FacebookLand,” I’m going to be doing a stand-up comedy show on March 9 at the Des Moines Social Club. Along with Omaha comedian Zach Peterson. Tickets are ON SALE NOW.
Ever since I announced this comedy show, I’ve been getting a lot of questions from people. Questions like:
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
and
“Why are you doing this to yourself?”
and
“You should probably see someone about your emotional issues.” (OK, that last one isn’t a question.)
So I gave it some thought. Here are the top 5 reasons why I’m doing stand-up comedy:
Because I probably need therapy, but my insurance won’t cover it:
I’m prone to melancholia, anxiety and curmudgeon-hood, but nothing makes me happier than making people laugh. Some of my favorite memories in life are the times where I got to be part of a room full of people laughing. There’s nothing else like it. It’s such a rush. It gives me endorphins like no legal drugs possibly could.
Because I’m socially isolated and emotionally needy:
As a freelance writer, I spend a lot of time sitting at home by myself wearing pajamas (some days I go the extra mile and wear pants) and I don’t get to talk to other people very often. So rather than take the smaller step of joining a co-working space or hanging out at a coffee shop, I’d rather go all-in and tell jokes to over 100 people. (Right? There will be at least 100 people at this show, right everybody? Please come to my show. I need this. You have no idea how much I need this.)
Because I must:
It’s just something I need to do. The idea came into my head like a miniature meteorite plummeting out of the sky and bonking me in the brain: “You should do stand-up comedy.” I want to do stand-up comedy for the same reason Sir Edmund Hillary wanted to climb Mount Everest: “Because it’s there – and because I need to get out of the house and spend some time away from my wife and kids.”
Because I want to make memories:
As a father of two small children, I spend a lot of time contemplating my own eventual death. Time just keeps speeding up on me, and before long I’m going to start rapidly aging and deteriorating and collapsing into dust like the guy at the end of “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” who chose the wrong chalice to drink from.
The guy who "chose poorly" at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
Remember that scene? The guy who thought he was drinking from the Holy Grail and would be rewarded with Eternal Life, but then it turns out he quickly disintegrated into a pile of bones?
I’ve never seen such an accurate onscreen depiction of the aging process.
"He chose poorly"
So before long, that’s going to be me. And before I die, I want to make some more memories from doing the things I love best. Someday when I’m on my deathbed, some of my fondest memories will be the times when I got to perform, make people laugh, make people think, and bask in the adulation of an audience.
Is this attitude entirely emotionally healthy? No. But that’s who I am.
Because I just don’t give a damn anymore:
Being a stand-up comedian can be tough. People might not laugh. They might heckle me. They might be offended by my jokes, throw garbage at me or threaten me with bodily harm. At this point, I don’t care. I’m 32 years old, I’m a grown man, and I don’t have, need or want a regular job anymore so I don’t have to worry about the Corporate Thought Police judging me for the things I say onstage.
So if you’re reading this, and you’re going to be within driving distance of the Des Moines Social Club on March 9, please BUY TICKETS and come to my stand-up comedy show. I promise not to collapse into dust until after the show is over.
