Warming Up

I was on my way to a gig where I had just been correctly bumped from the headline slot for a surprise appearance by a much more successful comedian. Suddenly I was struck by the most obvious pun about his name, all the more surprising because it had never occurred to me before. And I had, to my memory, never heard it from anyone else. The thing with puns is that it is not really possible to come up with an original one, maybe just a new and surprising setting for it.

But here was my “joke” (and I am not saying it is a good one, the surprise is in its obviousness)

"My wife went to see a comedian.

A quick google shows that I am not the first to notice that Jimmy Carr said in a Jamaican accent sounds like Jamaica. But I can’t find anyone appropriating that old joke format to incorporate his name. So it’s a partial win. If you can ever call coming up with a pun a win.

Puns are absolutely my least favourite comedy format, though they can be funny if really clever or incredibly tortuous. They are usually intended as groaners and there are comedians who can pull them off (Jimmy Carr is one of them, later on he would have me laughing in spite of myself at some terrible gags delivered brilliantly - you know as well as some really good ones), but generally, they fall a bit flat for me. 

But mainly because they’re obvious or have occurred to you already, so it’s odd to see an adult trying them out on you. But I guess that makes the quest for a new or clever one all the more enjoyable. I believe that no particular format of comedy is any worse than another, it’s just some of them have been so well trodden it’s hard to come up with anything unique. Which is why I actually have more respect for the comics who manage to do puns and observational comedy successfully. Tim Vine is someone who makes me laugh almost more than any comedian and yet he operates almost exclusively within my least favourite comedy format. And as much as it’s easy to mock observational comedy (ironically more often or not by thinking you’re the only one to point out that the “have you ever noticed” formula is a bit hoary), any comedian who comes up with a new angle about daily life, given there are so many trying to do it, is pretty exceptional. Spotting something that we’ve all noticed, but never actually noticed we’ve noticed. That’s a skill.

I can’t do it, as the things I notice happening to me don’t usually happen to other people, meaning I often do a sort of anti-observational comedy. 

But I don’t think there is a type of comedy that is redundant, merely that it’s less impressive if you’re doing something that I’ve already seen. I am not one of those comedians who thinks only certain types of comedy are valid (coincidentally the types of comedy that they are good at usually).

I had a good gig, though I felt a bit out of breath and unfit during my spot, I hope because I was a bit nervous and hot and had eaten too much pre-show pizza. It was a reminder of the importance of looking after myself though. I’ve had a couple of weeks of eating and drinking more than usual and not having time for exercise. Jimmy, as the surprise headliner. Of course brought the house down. I enjoyed chatting with him backstage, though he’s so focused and professional in everything he does that he often makes me feel like an open spot trying to talk to one of the proper comedians. Which is maybe fair. He thinks of comedy from every angle, not just formulating lean one-liners, but also understanding the best places to tour to, how to keep things fresh and has a keen business brain. He works constantly and it’s mind-boggling to even try and work out how much money he must earn per year, even when he is properly paying his tax.

He’s very different to me in style and in outlook, but I admire him greatly. A lot of people with his level of TV exposure wouldn’t bother to gig any more, or of they did wouldn’t change their set. He’s constantly on the road and doing a new show every year and it’s full of one line jokes, which are much harder to write than seven or eight sprawling routines. 

And though I have a drive, it’s largely unfocused and not really about making money (though I like it when that happens) and I am useless at networking (as I proved after the gig when I sat awkwardly in a corner, quickly drank my drink and then got my taxi home, because I didn’t like to make the driver wait for me). I am a bit on awe of Jimmy’s ability to own the room backstage, but also know that I am never going to be that guy. 

When I see people like Carr and Tim Minchin and Steve Coogan at work and not at work I am able to accept that I don’t have what it takes to be that kind of star. And that I am not the best comedian in the world. But I am happy to try and be the best comedian I can be. Which obviously is a work in progress. And wasn’t helped by my Jimmy Carr joke. 

I was too shy to even run it past him, for fear that he’d roll his eyes and say he’d heard it a thousand times. Were I more ambitious I would probably have tried to sell it to him.