Going to a comedy club is a crap shoot, and I know that going in. Many of the comics are local — especially the ones who serve as emcee. One, in fact, has appeared several times. He hails from Jacksonville’s west side and specializes in “trailer park humor.” Humor? Okay, that’s a stretch. But the “emcee” guys all seem to be cut from the same cloth. They dress the same, they have “that walk,” and they seem to write their jokes together. Jokes? Another stretch. Yet they fill that void in the show that allows the late arrivals to find their seats without missing anything important. And they make whoever performs next seem so much better. Well, sometimes.
Don’t get me wrong. We get very good acts (even great acts) here on a regular basis. Some, although not names known by everyone in the general public, are clearly professional and very skilled. I am always happy when I show up for one of those. Again, you just don’t know until you get there. Then there are the nationally known headliners that we get from time to time. Richard Jeni was here a few years back, for example. The club is small, so tickets go quickly for the big acts. Sadly, I missed Richard Jeni for that very reason.
This past weekend we had David Alan Grier. I was able to score tickets for the Friday night show. Again, a local emcee guy dressed like he had just been in a fight staggered out and attempted a few erection jokes before bringing out a British guy whose name I did not get. He did a 20-minute set that killed. I would, in fact, like to see him again. And then David Alan Grier took the stage. The expression, “hit the ground running,” has never been so apt! He was upbeat, sharp, witty, impulsive, raw and sometimes downright filthy — but absolutely hilarious for some 45 minutes. And therein I saw that undefinable, yet undeniable, difference between the true professionals and the others. Grier, by his own admission, had “twenty minutes of dick jokes.” But what comic doesn’t? Emcee guy tried the dick route and came up flaccid. Grier, on the other hand, kept us in stitches.
I won’t belabor the point. Support you local comedy clubs — even the local comics. Sometimes their badness actually makes them funny. And you’ll occasionally find a diamond in the rough. Either way, laughter is a joy well worth the price of admission and the one-drink minimum. So lighten up a bit and go!
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