I've always had an appreciation for comedians. Good ones, anyway.
"I Love Lucy" was one of my favorite TV shows growing up. Sure, I had a crush on Ricky Ricardo, but it was Lucy that held my full attention during every episode. Her timing was impeccable. Her facial expressions were priceless. Few stand-up comedians grab hold of me today as Lucy did all those years ago.
A good comic can transform the world. I believe that a good sense of humor and the ability to make others laugh is borne out of childhoods filled with loneliness, sadness and angst, however. That loneliness, that sadness, that angst can be transformed into good comedy if one has a propensity toward it.
I've heard many times that I should venture into the world of stand-up comedy, that I possess "the gift." Not only can I tell stories, people say, but I tell stories in a way that makes people want to listen. I have the ability to act out the characters through my face and my voice. Making people laugh and being the center of attention, in turn, makes me happy.
Jokes, however, are a different story. Sure, I can spin a funny yarn. But actual jokes don't really seem to exist anymore. Funny stories have replaced the knock knock joke and those silly questions followed by even sillier answers. After Princess Diana met her tragic fate, I made up my first actual joke. I don't remember it now, and I wonder if it was ever as funny as I remember it being. That said, here's my second original joke - one I made up Saturday night after a few beers and a couple tokes off a pipe in the presence of a group of friends, one of whom happens to have grown up Amish.
Q: How many Amish people does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Lightbulb? What's a lightbulb?
(Insert a nasal "wah wah wah" after the punchline)
I wonder if anyone at a comedy club would laugh at that one. Keep in mind the drink minimum.
Since I am career-challenged at this point, I am actually considering a venture into the world of stand-up comedy. I'm planning on writing a five-minute routine and trying it out on my closest friends. Who knows? Maybe, eventually, my loneliness, sadness and angst will finally be of good use to large numbers of people. It would certainly benefit me most in the event of a success. After all, all the world loves a clown.