What some of you have been waiting for...

As it was getting closer to the Unboxed Voices variety show where I was to perform stand-up, I was worried that I didn't get enough practice in.  Wednesday evening, I went to Lisa Harmon's open mic -- Lisa's Clubhouse.  It seems to draw a more mature crowd (not referring to age) than some others I've endured.  Comedy open mic's are different than poetry or music open mic's.  For those blessed with estrogen, it can be an experience to endure.  But both times I've been to Lisa's Clubhouse, I didn't feel that way at all.  She has accurately called it the least or one of the least misogynistic open mic's in the city.  Says a lot about the state of things in general. 

  

Lisa was a good host.  She made everyone feel welcome.  She takes great photos of each comic.  She listens to everyone's set.  What I admire so much is her comfort (or at least a very convincing appearance of comfort) as the host.  Some of her lines were just terrific and so in the moment.  I loved, when speaking of blow jobs, how she referred to a semi-soft old man's cock being preferable to a young stiff one banging the back of your throat.  She had me laughing.  And I really appreciated her comeback when some man spoke of vaginas as something ugly.  "Whattaya think that veiny hairy wrinkled ball sac looks like?"  She had me dying.

 I met some others working on their craft, and I enjoyed most people's efforts.  I especially appreciated the work of Cassidy Kirch.  She took a chunk of how life is for women in a patriarchy and made it funny.  A couple of folks offered me their reaction to my set.  I was told I was thought-provoking and hilarious.  I left feeling once again encouraged.

Saturday night was the show, and I arrived with no time to spare.  I was told I was up next.  Of course I felt like oh shit no time for a sip of wine.  I found my buddy and his guest.  I gave him the camera and batteries for him to tape my performance.  I asked his guest to hold my coat and bag.  I got a cup of water, looked in the mirror, and then told the co-host I was ready.  It turned out they switched me with the musician who was going to originally go on after me.  So I sat and managed to get a wine before my time to get on stage.  But after two sips, I was up. 

The show was mostly music.  The audience was mainly 20s and 30s and some older.  I hoped very much my material would work with these folks.  I was starting with something "dirty" though it isn't really dirty as much as sexual.  But many people call that dirty.  None of my stuff makes people go "euwww," but sometimes it makes people go "oooohhhhh."  

 

I was able to enjoy being up there (sometimes I don't enjoy it until I'm off stage), I was able to be in the moment and say off the cuff things here and there, I was able to deal with an unexpected reaction twice, and stay connected with the audience.  I do realize I freaked out several men.  I hope they let it become a growing experience.  And ya know, it was International Women's Day, we've been the butt of jokes since forever, so if a few of ya can't handle a bit of leveling of the comedy stage, too fuckin' bad. 

One of the beautiful parts for me was it was like a reunion mixed in because people I've worked with in Unboxed Voices productions over the past two years were there.  My leading man from two summers back when I played Madame Ellipsis in "Ellipses" and my co-actor from a play I was in last summer (who was the first actor I was to kiss in a production) were both there.  The latter is a musician and played piano in the variety show.  His adult daughter was with him.  She enjoyed my comedy as did he.  He made a point of letting me know.  People who had been my directors in the previous two summers were there, and they definitely saw another side of me.  I felt new-found respect from some and new-found distance from others.

My best buddy taped me.  His date enjoyed the show very much.  She told me her view of the audience reactions.  I felt so glad I was up relatively early in the show, so I could enjoy the rest of it without worrying about my set. 

Outside of the Parkside Lounge, I practically drooled over the musician, who goes by the stage name Braxton Hicks, enjoying the evening with his adult daughter.  I told her a nice story about working in a play with her father.  Then I said, "I can't wait until my son and I can have evenings like you two."

 

The daughter asked, "How old is he?"  

 

"Twenty-two." 

 

"Give it time."