Down the GI Tract of Comedy
I’ve been on Scott Shimamoto’s Joke Gym mailing list for years. I’m not sure when or why I signed up. Truth is, I used to lie awake at night dreaming up comedy routines, never writing them down, never acting upon the impulse to perform. For years. But now, I was talking to Scott, having a one-to-one as part of our business networking group, and the monthly Joke Gym open mic was happening down the street tonight. “You should come!” And not just watch. Perform! What the hell. That afternoon, I wrote up an embellished account of when that asshole in the convertible Audi chased me for five miles down the 101. And why we should always act on the first thought that pops into our head. I sat in my driveway, rehearsing, before going inside to get some real work done before the gig.
They don’t serve food at Pacific Plate, but you can order Doordash, which I did. Scott suggested going fourth. I had my script printed out in 16-point Garamond, double spaced. Big and easy to read. The second comic was clearly a professional, with a deep, booming voice, and well-choreographed gestures. Excellent timing. Soon, it was my turn, and I found myself up at the mic getting trampled by a herd of butterflies. My hands shook like an 8.9 earthquake busting through a field of jello, non-stop. I should’ve eaten. But the food didn’t arrive till I was on, and the Doordash driver yelling “Penny Katz! Penny Katz!” as I’m ranting about running the motherfucker Audi driver off a cliff into the LA River. I’m sure if I’d eaten, my hands wouldn’t have shaken like they’d taken on a life of their own. Somehow, I survived, and then later I learned there was a second round, and here I was with one round’s worth of material. When Scott called me up for round two, asking if I wanted to do it, I thought, “what the hell, I’ll wing it,” and that’s exactly what I did. No idea what I talked about, but I filled the three minutes and had a ball. By the time I woke up the following morning, I had three new concepts for bits, including the COVID POW, Dating Advice for Young Men, and going to school with Hitler’s grandkids. Looks like I’ll be back for more.
