The Class Clown Goes Pro
It’s so refreshing to know how different we all are. We are all different in our cultures, home life and experiences that we’re made into these kinds of people that are different from the other thousands of people we’ve met in our lives. Though, I think we learn lots of things and can always better ourselves, some of us can’t do certain things or think like the person next to them. Me? I SUCK at math. Algebra 2 pretty much made me her bitch. Yes, she’s definitely a girl because only girls can make me cry. I know this because in elementary school a girl pushed me down a jungle gym and made me cry in front of people for the first time. She laughed at me. Well, she now has three children, doesn’t know the father to any of them and is currently in prison. WHO’S LAUGHING NOW REBECCA. Scraped knees heel. Arrest records are forever.
Anyway, I think I have a gift and it’s really the only thing I’ve ever identified with. Being funny. My family says that I’ve always had an energy that almost radiates comedy, but I think it really just kicked in when I got to high school and matured into college. I ran into an old classmate at a bar and had a quick conversation with him. I told him that I’m really involved in Improv at my school and love performing and making people laugh and he goes, “Oh yeah. You were always good at doing that kind of stuff in high school.” Even though I try to forget high school (especially the Algebra 2), I remember always trying to get a laugh and being goofy and weird and everything else in-between just to get a smile.
Now, I would never call myself “the class clown” because I’d like to think I’m a little more clever than that. Billy Crystal once said, “In high school, I was the class comedian as opposed to the class clown. The difference is the class clown is the guy who drops his pants at the football game; The class comedian is the guy who talked him into it.” Even though my underwear may be cool and make my ass look great, an entire student section doesn’t need to see (or wince) at that. Blech.
As a kid I never understood how people AREN’T funny. I seriously don’t understand how very few people are wired to want (and be able to) make someone laugh during almost every part of their day. I’m different. Not a Two Chainz kinda different though. To me, there is not a sound better than someone’s laugh… well, most of the time. Some of you seriously sound like you’re straight out of the new Jurassic Park movie with your “laugh”. More like a mating call to me. I’m flattered.
I didn’t talk about my 2015 on any blogs or social media like everyone else, even though I think 2015 was an amazing year for my relationship with myself. 2015 is where I realized one of my callings and it’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid. Making people laugh. I’ll admit… I’m funny. I know I am. I hope you don’t think that is me bragging about being awesome and better than you because it’s not. I tell jokes and make people spit their Sprite over themselves. It’s. What. I. Do. I was always taught to be humble through everything I do and this isn’t any different.
If you are funny, understand that you are blessed and not everyone is like you. Be the class clown and embrace it. Also, not everyone thinks I’m funny. If you are trying to be funny and someone “doesn’t get it” or isn’t amused, they’re going to call you a douche. I’ve been called a douche before and let me tell you… it feels great. Proud douche. Douche 4 Life. Someone doesn’t think you’re funny? Pssssht. Follow them home and make their mom laugh. There is no greater revenge in my book than making the mother of your enemy laugh. I’m cynical. Trust me, your mom likes it.
The point is that we’re all given gifts and society likes to smash those gifts down so you can “fit in.” We’re all supposed to be the same person and contribute to society in the same way and live happy, boring lives, watching Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix every Sunday with your significant other and then you die and people say nice things about your boring life and that’s it. Booya. Run-on sentences. That’s not the plan for me. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know where I’ve been. Maybe I’ll be in Chicago, following a career/lifestyle in Improv. Maybe I’ll be home in Indianapolis, following the footsteps of my parents on the fire department. Hell, maybe I’ll even buy a truck and be the dude that makes elephant ears at carnivals (you’re welcome). No matter what I decide to do, it’ll be okay… because I’m done with Algebra 2.