by Kristin Nador/ @KristinNador
The days are new now. The children are grown and flown, and going from a four-bedroom house to an 850 square foot apartment in a different state, life’s pace has changed. It’s the beginning of the second act. I feel like it’s a season for trying new things, for being braver.
I’ve been missing Write Anywhere.
if you’re new to this blog, Write Anywhere is a challenge I give myself as I discover new and unusual places to write and get inspiration. I visit a spot, look for ways it inspires my creativity, and share my thoughts. I invite readers to join the challenge and find their own Write Anywhere places and spaces. Whether it’s writing, photography, painting, music, or any artistic expression, taking yourself out of your regular routine and looking at things in a different way can spark new ideas and take you along creative paths you hadn’t considered before.
It’s been several months since I’ve been able to get out of the house as my foot and hip heal. I have to rely on Keeper Hubby to shuttle me around, and boy, do I hate that scooter cart at Kroger. Hubby’s been great, but when you’re used to your independence, it can get you down a bit. Add to that fact I really want to explore my new Kentucky town, and I’ve been in a funk.
Keeper Hubby told me about an opportunity to attend a charity event at a place I’ve never been, and I jumped at the chance. Leave it to Hubby to find a way to cheer me up, and create a Write Anywhere experience at the same time. Another reason why he’s a Keeper.
Write Anywhere #77: Comedy Club
We were invited by one of Hubby’s co-workers to attend a fundraiser at a local comedy club. The proceeds went to medical bills for a comic’s daughter. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as we stood in a line snaking from the entrance to a ticket booth/bar waiting to purchase our one drink minimum, the festive atmosphere put me at ease. When the ushers seated us in two small chairs at a table next to the stage, I felt exposed to the rest of the crowd. How did the performers feel?
The lights dimmed, conversations hushed, and the emcee walked out into the spotlight.
The performances, by nature of the venue, were intimate and raw. One by one, each comic entered the arena and jousted with the audience, tailoring each bit by the audience’s reactions. Hubby got thrown into the theatrics, as one comic commented on his very serious grimace amidst the jokes. Extremely uncomfortable chairs have a tendency to do that to Keeper Hubby’s face.
The audience performed, too. Players included the professional laugh-ers, and those whose responses were tempered by the liquid humor obligingly delivered among the tables. Some scowled at the offensive jokes sparsely peppered among the mostly clean sets. A few had no reaction at all.
I laughed a lot, and it lifted my spirits.
And then it was over, and the same way the lines snaked in, they snaked back out.
I admire humor writing, because I am not a funny person. I can’t purposely write something funny. I tend to the serious, or even morose. My children would disagree; in daily life they think I am hilarious. As in, can-you-believe-mom-did that-hilarious.
One comic wove deep observations among his jokes, provoking reflection in the midst of the laughs. I wondered: how much time had he devoted to this two minute bit, that five minute piece? How many revisions, how many times did it fail before it clicked?
Comics are writers. Writers who have the guts to craft their funny little babies and let them fly. To soar or crash, but let them fly. They let others hear their words and receive immediate judgment. On the spot acceptance or rejection. Comedy seems a risky business because it’s so subjective. What I think is funny is not necessarily what you think is funny. Our humor is colored by our upbringing, experiences, even our mood at that moment. In my opinion, comedy is akin to spoken poetry: it’s a matter of trust. When you write words you can always hit the delete key or scrub them away with an eraser, but once spoken words leave your mouth, they live or die to the hearer in that moment. There is no erasing. Writers who speak their words have to trust their audience, and trust their own voice. They are brave conjurers of their craft. That impresses me.
I may not write anything that anyone thinks is funny, but my comedy club visit inspired me to try some new things with my writing, to be braver. It’s the season for bravery.