Elf and Z-Wolf?
I wanted to start by saying that the numbers “eleven” and “twelve” in the German language are “elf” and “zwölf.” How is there not a German show for preteens where an Elf and a Z-Wolf(?) join up and fight crime or some shit?
(To be fair, if the show existed in Germany right now, I would not know about it.)
This isn’t going well so far. This is my blog, and if you’re reading this, you’re reading it.
Greetings:
Hello, friends. Welcome back. So far, each post has gone down in readers, and the Venmo payments I requested, ($59.99 per week, regardless of whether I post) have not been bearing fruit. It’s disheartening because at this rate, I’ll never be sponsored by Stamps.com, Blue Apron, Seat Geek, Nature Box, Square Cash, or any other millennial advertiser. Sad!
2 Sets @ The Creek and the Cave
I’m learning that just like I had hoped, the repetition of sets is allowing me to see what jokes and setups feel right over the course of a few weeks. For me and many others, the Creek and the Cave in Long Island City provides a good space for this. Though I wrote about it skeptically at first, I’m starting to have a real affinity for it’s charms as a place to “workout.”
That being said, there are still times when it feels like first-timers are thrown to the wolves for being a too nervous. These are usually folks who jog up when their name is called, and anxiously speed-through the first 2 sentences they have prepared in their notebook. “So I got dumped” or “So I was on the subway.” For the most part, though, the regulars have a confident vibe that even if their material doesn’t get hearty laughs, they’re part of something that is bigger than the one mic. By continuing to show up, I too am starting to feel like it’s my “home mic” of sorts. (I’ve even started to introduce myself to more people and welcome some new Dans.)
I’d also like to clarify that I don’t make the observation about first-timers to shit on other comics — it’s just a pattern I’ve seen where the room feels stiff when the performer is. My vulnerability, as someone who sometimes does poorly just like everyone else, is a tick where I overcompensate by pretending I’m at ease. — I sort of introduce myself in a sing-songy way: “ I’m soo happy to be here” and “hiii, look at us! We’re here!” Once I listen back, I hear it as a little disingenuous, which is maybe the word I’m most afraid of being labeled as a comic (…besides, of course, “unfunny.”) After this sort of higher-pitched opening, I usually then settle down into a slow, more conversational, storytelling mode. (Finding this tone and groove is a place I really enjoy, and there’s nothing like good laughs to help you remember what you’re supposed to say next.)
Overall, I see sets 10 and 11 as one in the same: both are under 3 minutes, at the Creek, during the same week, on similar material. As always, I was not just working on changing the words and tone, but getting out of my own way and being myself, which is hopefully warm, candid, and funny. (..right?)
10. Creek and the Cave — 2.5 minutes, 3/23/17
Mr. 3000
Basketball Coach
Black and White Cookie
Jeremy Lin (ran out of time)
11. Creek and the Cave — 3 minutes, 3/27/17
Mr. 3000
Black and White Cookie
The Sets: Rather than breaking down each set, I thought I’d group each bit: how they came about, changed from set-to-set, and the direction I might take them going forward.
With regards to these short sets, I’ll add that when I have only 2–3 minutes, I try to get in at least 2 “comedy ideas.” That means I can either try 2 totally new bits, 2 older bits in a new way, or one of each. I usually go with one new bit and one reworked bit, and I almost always try and connect them, either with a some sort of contextual transition or, ideally, a joke! (I’ve never heard of someone leaving a comedy show and raving about Chris Rock’s “contextual transitions,” but I still like the idea of a set sort of coming from one organic idea. In this set, it was “sports and kids,” and “the broader topic of racism!” — you know, real fodder for comedy!)
Connections: Now obviously the goal of a mic is simple: To see if an idea you thought of, while you were alone, can be funny to a room of strangers. That’s it. It’s unambiguous. That being said, connective tissue in a set, or just talking about things that relate to one another, can sometimes help with that. (I for one find it easier to remember my material if it flows, logically, from one thing to the next — easier to remember means more confidence and genuine ease, which can — though not always — lead to something being funny.) One way I’ve been able to make connections with some of my bits is that, once per month I have a reminder in my phone to “WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN.”
When this reminder flashes on my phone, I’m supposed to aggregate every bit I have done on stage onto one notebook page, and look at the big picture: “What do I generally talk about on stage? What connects these thoughts?” This exercise is essentially me pretending someone sent me a text that says “LOUIE CK NEEDS AN OPENER, HOW MANY MINUTES CAN YOU DO?”
The connections I’ve seen in the 1 time I’ve done this have been: sports vs musicals, food, stories of being a kid, teaching, living in Scotland, and relationships. I’d eventually like to tell longer stories, and I think having continuity and a “plan” for each set can be really helpful as I hopefully build a larger narrative built from tested and rewritten bits.
Mr. 3000:
For these sets, I wanted to work through a story from middle school. On one rainy day, my friend Nick and I saw Bernie Mac’s baseball movie, Mr. 3000 twice, in one day, in theaters. (The 1 pm matinee, hibachi dinner for a last-minute birthday invite, and then the 8pm screening. We loved it both times.)
Plus Mr. 3000
Plus Mr. 3000….
Gives you…Mr. 6000!
The biggest reaction I got for this bit was when I related Nick and I seeing this movie back to the context of where we grew up. I mentioned I’m from a place called “Garden City,” which was super white. The joke that worked was “seeing Mr. 3000, twice in one day in theaters, was the most black people I had ever seen in one day.” Now, part of that is obviously not a “good thing” because it’s about the reality of how American communities look. But, I think there’s an uncomfortable and silly truth in realizing that, because of a Bernie Mac movie, I was growing up and seeing more of the world.
Returning to this bit in the second mic, I actually did it worse. I included new details that weren’t helpful, because what’s funny is not the details of what Nick and I did that day, but the context of us seeing this movie as 11 year olds in the town we were raised in. (Editor’s note: I’ haven’t really been doing this bit since, but I’d like to now that I’ve been thinking more about the context of it. I’d like to because I think there’s something there.)
The Black and White Cookie:
I returned to this bit from when I did it at Local 138 for mic number 9. Basically, it’s that friends are funnier than comics, Seinfeld had this old bit, a kid in middle school tried to teach us about comedy using this bit, we came up with this stupid theory about the black and white cookie.
A few parts of it worked this time: “I’m not here to re-litigate old Seinfeld bits” got a bit of a chuckle, but the biggest laugh was when I started to intellectualize the stupidity of this cookie and said “okay, no bit, the Seinfeld bit doesn’t make any sense because the cookie underneath is vanilla, and so it represents systemic racism. It looks like an even split, but the cookie is constructed with vanilla interests in mind!” Again — I’m not in love with this yet, but I think there’s something to it. (Editor’s Note: I’m still trying to make it work and build to some good laughs at how stupid this is. One thing that I’ve tried is starting the bit with “So I have a lot of opinions about the Black and White Cookie.” (But that’s a recent discovery and this set is from a month ago, so it takes a while!)
Also found a cool photo of Seinfeld at the Creek! (He’s at the upstairs stage…the mic happens in the basement…)
Final Bit:
As you can see from set 10, I did have one final joke about going to college with Jeremy Lin’s brother, (and trying to play pickup basketball with him.) Spoiler alert: he said “no.” BUT I couldn’t fit it in my allotted time. (And I haven’t tried the joke since — -so it couldn’t have been that good…right?)
I initially thought I could burn through 4 sets in one post, but taking some time off from the blog made me a bit slow with figuring out how to organize this post. The next one will be about my first time doing 2 sets in one night and, not to give anything away, but things didn’t exactly go according to plan.
Until next time, see you later Nick, Mom, Uncle Donny, Schmid, Chelsea, Smandel, Colin, Rudkin and the other-people-who-I-suspect-read-this-blog-regularly-but-am-not-sure-enough-to-include-their-names-in-this-goodbye-paragraph!
@gjmollica for tweets
gjmollica@gmail.com for angry e-mails regarding your love for me (or the blog,) and how you should have been included in the goodbye list.
