If you want to build a ship —
Why I was wrong, and why it feels so right
The beloved Improv troupe slash family unit I play in, The Latecomers, are mostly stand-up comedians.There, I said it: they’re stand-up comics first, and improv players second.
(Very funny stand ups, though: Sam Jacky Wayne)
And I was OK with that.
But Improv isn’t their main shtick; Improv is a side-hustle, a multi-class, a little piece on the side, a little bit of fun on the weekends and maybe Thursday nights, but never the main event.
If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and give orders.
Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.
I remember when shows were mostly one-liners, puns and gags and quips and comebacks and heckles and heckle-put-downs. I remember a lot of jokes, but no scenes.
And I was OK with that.
But, surprisingly, mysteriously, without really understanding or knowing why, someone taught them to long for the sea: the sea of long-form, of stories, of involved characters and reactions and delight and wonder. The C for Characters.
Tonight, there was salt in the air, and it felt like we heard the call of the sea.
Ahoy.
