From Open Mic to Comedy Gold: My Secret to Getting Better
The art of turning bombs into belly laughs
The bar was not ideal for comedy: two patrons with their backs facing the mic, one bartender BRRRRRing the blender, and nearly twenty other comics all thinking, “I’m better than you.”
It has been about a year since I attended open mic (for reasons I’ll explain in another story), and instinct kicked in.
“Please welcome the very funny comic, Ryan D!” I heard a few claps as my hand gripped the microphone, pulling it from the stand that I moved back behind me. Front and center is where I like to be — facing the lions like any good tamer.
PRACTICING AGAINST THE WALL
Hitting open mics reminds me of my younger years as an up-and-coming tennis player. I would spend my high school summers hitting the ball against a wall in a large parking lot. Bricks and parking lots have this in common: they are uneven.
If a ball hits the corner of the brick, it’ll take a weird bounce. And when the ball returns and hits a crack in the parking lot — I’ll be diving.
The unexpected nuances of ricocheting and warbling taught me to quickly adjust my form. I would have returned a wonky shot if I had not learned from the sudden shift of…
