At Yourself: Stand-up Comedy

Matthew 5:39 - "... turn to him the other also."

Two of my friends, my sister, and I all went on a double date to a BYU-sponsored stand-up comedy event! IT WAS SICK!

The guy in the center is the MC. He changed into the shirt halfway through. It was so bizarre, he had the following comedian he introduced completely speechless before the beginning of his act.

There are a lot of directions I could take this sort of post, though. First off, I could talk about how impressed I was by how the comedians shined their light, thereby uplifting us with good humor. I could also talk about their willingness to get up there in the first place, overcoming any anxieties and qualms to bless their audience.

Honestly, I do so many of those in a week, I'm starting to suspect this blog is turning into a self-parody.

Thankfully, a couple of the comedians gave me the opportunity to throw down a different sort of post. The experience was quite anecdotal, and will probably be remembered among the four of us date-goers for quite some time. Either way, I may misquote someone or fail to describe an action properly, but the below account is nonetheless true to form.

As we were settling down in the front-row seats, mi amigo said something along the lines of, "You know, if they pick anyone to take up there to make fun of, it's probably going to be Zac." I doubted such a thing would happen, but the rest of our group murmured their assent.

Sure enough, about halfway through the show, the MC asked for a volunteer. Wisely, nobody raised their hands. I nudged mi amiga, suggesting that she go up. Without warning, the MC pointed at me. "You!" he said. "Come on up here!"

I remembered the conversation from the beginning of the show. My voice was flat.

"Are you serious."

Taking it in stride, I went up and joined the MC on the stage, unable to contain my trademark cheesy grin. I was informed that I would be participating in a trivia contest against a Mr. Hobbs, who would be the night's next comedian. Whoever got the first three answers won the game.

Sure enough, Mr. Hobbs came up, and I was asked my name, upon which the microphone was lovingly shoved into my gut, chin, and nose before finally settling unsettlingly close to my mouth. The audience chuckled heartily.

"Zac," I said.

"Sure, whatever, I'm going to call you precious," the MC said. Laughter again, not only from myself. "All right, first question. Because Precious is our guest, he gets to go first, right? So, Precious; in what year was Mr. Hobbs born?"

I'm terrible at guessing ages, as many can attest, but I thought "1990" was a good guess. Mr. Hobbs was so touched by the gesture, he interrupted the MC to shake my hand and say thank you.

"Precious, you're incorrect!" the MC said. "Mr. Hobbs, can you steal?"

"1985," came the reply.

"Correct!" the MC declared. "Because Precious is trailing behind, he gets to go first for the next question." The microphone was again lovingly rubbed all over my face before landing somewhere near my lips. Still, the laughter continued. "Precious, what was the name of Mr. Hobbs' favorite childhood stuffed animal?"

I thought I was really clever with this one. "Calvin."

I actually got some impressed cheers from the crowd with that one. I was a little distracted by the wandering microphone exploring my face, but I think even Mr. Hobbs himself was surprised. The MC, however, was not. "I'm sorry, Precious, but that is incorrect! Mr. Hobbs, will you steal?"

Mr. Hobbs, of course, did, leaving me trailing two points behind with one point to victory.

"And the final question." The MC was smirking to himself. "Again, because Precious is behind, he gets to start." The microphone resumed its tender embrace with my facial orifices. "Precious, what is the pin number for Mr. Hobbs' garage door? I'll give you a hint."

Oh, I thought. That's surprising.

"It's four numbers."

Ah.

Well, I'd already heard one four-digit number tonight, so given certain experiences in my life, I went with it again. "1985," I said.

Mr. Hobbs' eyes widened, and he started laughing. The MC was unfazed. "So close!" he said grandly. "Seriously, so close. What is it, Mr. Hobbs?"

Mr. Hobbs, still laughing, answered, "1984."

So, given a fixed competition obviously at my expense, I walked away feeling pretty good about my performance.

Anyway, I tell this story just to illustrate, mainly, how much fun I had laughing at myself. It would have been a lot more uncomfortable for me and for everyone else had I not gone along with everything and even tried to get a few jabs in here and there myself. As it was, it proved a memorable experience for everyone, one of which I was grateful to be a part.

As you go about this week, try to find reasons to laugh at yourself, too. You don't have to be in a crowd to do it; just remember none of us are perfect, and laugh! I'm fully prepared to be laughing hysterically at my English exam grade that will posted in the upcoming week; rather than focus on my failure, I'm determined enough to focus on maintaining my good spirits throughout. And that, in the end, is all that matters.

So! My challenge for you this week is to get out there and laugh! I expect to see a lot of smiles out there this week! Go get 'em!

And here's Mr. Hobbs. It was unfortunate I totally failed to get a picture of us on stage together, but here's a nice body shot instead!