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In a discussion with Paul Herzich (a fellow Friar; co-owner and co-founder of the first comedy club in New York City, Comedy U; and all-around cool guy and fascinating conversationalist) about comedy, we spoke about the difference between passion and obsession.  I believe that a comic cannot merely be passionate about comedy - he* must be obsessed with it.  This seems like an extreme position, so here are my thoughts on the matter:

Let’s use a particular woman in the place of comedy for the moment.  (This is an apt substitution, as there are a lot of parallels between comedy and relationships.  In fact, as I’ve told others, when I’m with a woman, I sometimes feel like I’m cheating on comedy.  But I digress.)  A woman’s husband is passionate about this woman.  A woman’s stalker is obsessed with this woman.  The healthier relationship is clearly between the woman and the man who is passionate rather than obsessive.  However, who knows more about the woman?  If I needed specific information about the woman, who would be more likely to have it?  In this instance, the stalker.  He probably knows her exact schedule, where she’s been, what her daily routine is, etc.  Because he’s obsessed, he’s more cognizant of these smaller details and more likely to forgo things pertaining to himself in pursuit of things pertaining to the woman.  In comedy, knowing more about the little things and being willing to sacrifice in order to obtain that kind of information is not only valuable - it’s necessary.

Comedy is too hard both commercially and artistically for the full-time comedian to be anything less than obsessed with it.  Let me break that down as well.  On the commercial side, comedy is an art form that can be difficult to make a living from - you have to sacrifice a lot to make comedy work as a career.  On the artistic side, comedy is a very demanding and difficult art form.  Comedy involves so many constantly changing variables that it requires a mammoth effort to perfect.  Only the obsessed are willing to sacrifice important things to do comedy and only the obsessed can devote the energy and time required to become a truly great comedian.

The interesting caveat here though is that the raw material of stand-up comedy is life.  If you are so obsessed with comedy that your life becomes entirely about stand-up comedy, you risk losing access to the raw materials out of which stand-up comedy is made.  As a result, the comedian must approach obsession without crossing the line into pathology.  That is where the real struggle lies.  The question is not the passionate comic’s - whether a sacrifice needs to be made - but the question of the obsessed comic - how much sacrifice will be made.

* Obviously, a comic can be female, but for the sake of clarity, I will use only the male pronoun (using “he/she” or “he or she” each time would clog up my sentences).

Tonight I did my 700th and 701st show of 2009.  I’d like to hit 730 before the year’s over (that’s 2*365, or 2 shows a night for every single night of the year); I think I’m mostly on track to getting there.

Getting up on stage so much has been the most important factor in my development as a comic.  Louis C.K. made the great observation about stand-up as an art: in each art form, the artist uses a particular instrument in order to create art (for example, the saxophone player uses his saxophone and the painter uses her paintbrush) - what separates stand-up comedy from every other art form, however, is that the stand-up comic’s instrument is the audience itself.

That explains a lot when you think about it.  For example, an artist will usually warm up their instrument (for example, the singer warms up her vocal cords, the saxophone player makes sure his saxophone is in order and warmed up).  In stand-up, we try to warm-up our audience (we refer to a properly warmed up audience as a “hot crowd”); it’s just us warming up our instrument.

An artist can’t practice his art if he doesn’t have his instrument.  (For example, you can’t really practice painting without a paintbrush or the saxophone without a saxophone.)  That means that in order to practice stand-up comedy, you need to be in front of an audience.  You can practice the saxophone without being in front of an audience because the instrument is the saxophone and not the audience itself.  That’s not so in stand-up.  As a result, stage time - the amount of time a comic spends in front of an audience (in other words, the amount of time a comic spends with his/her instrument) - is of tantamount importance in growing and developing as an artist.

In fact, one of the main reasons that I moved to New York was that there was so much more stage time available here than in Boston (where I really developed as a comic and found my voice).  Hitting a number like 700 helps remind me that I am meeting the goals I set for myself when I moved to Manhattan.  Can’t wait to do the next 700 shows!

Tonight’s the penultimate night of Stand-Up Comedy: LIVE at the SAGE THEATER, the weekly stand-up comedy show I’ve been producing for two and a half years.  It’s the longest-running, most successful weekly stand-up comedy show in Times Square, but our venue - the beautiful Sage Theater - is changing directions and shutting down as a theater.  As a result, we only have two more shows left before moving to a new venue (Sam, my co-producer, and I have been working tirelessly to find a new space, but haven’t finalized anything yet).

Next week is going to be a bittersweet moment (I might get emotional, having invested so much time and energy into our show) but tonight should just be a blast.  I always love the second-to-last time for things - it’s not sad (there’s one more chance after this one) but there’s still that heightened sense of appreciation, knowing that things are coming to a close.

The show starts at 10 PM, tickets are FREE (no cover AND no drink minimum), and features Joe DeRosa (Comedy Central), Joe DeVito (Last Comic Standing), Louis Katz (HBO), Baratunde Thurston (The Onion), Sam Morril (Friars Club), and me.  The Sage Theater is located at 711 7th Ave., betw. 47th and 48th St.

Hope to see you there!

Two of my roommates from college visited this week.  It was not only a blast to reconnect with close friends and see them again, but also a reminder of life outside of the comedy industry.  It was great to wake up in the morning, go to museums, eat at restaurants - all stuff I’ve kind of given up on since dedicated my life to doing stand-up.  I also forgot what it was like to have really heady, intellectual conversations with people on important topics.  I’m not saying comics aren’t smart, but the conversations I used to enjoy in Harvard’s dining halls were definitely on an intellectual level that I rarely find now in my daily life.  I definitely want to start seeking smart people out more (maybe hang out at museums, salons, book clubs?) and to do more intellectually-stimulating activities (to do: get NYC library card,  subscribe to the New Yorker).

In a weird way, being with non-comedy people was better for my comedy than being with non-comedy people: free from the monotony of my daily cycle of wake-write-go to club-perform-go home-write-sleep-repeat, I was able to get more really original and unique ideas for jokes in this last week than in the last few weeks combined.  Guess I need to work on that work-life balance more - I think it will be better for both my work and my life!

Thought I’d fill you in on what I’ve been up to, life-wise.  It’s been very exciting (and very, very busy).  I’ve had 1 night off this entire month (the month before I had 2, although 1 of those nights off to go to an open mike and workshop new stuff), not including today (does it count as a day off if I have to go to temple and can’t eat?), so I have been performing non-stop.  People just starting out in comedy have asked me for advice and I’ve started telling them what I was told when I was starting out: “There are three things you need: stage time, stage time, stage time.”  As Louis C.K. said, the stand-up comedian’s instrument is the audience, so the only way to get better is to be in front of an audience (use your instrument) as much as possible.

I’ve also been to more meetings with industry this month than most months prior.  Comedians tend to be nocturnal, performing through the night and sleeping through the day, whereas the comedy industry functions on a normal 9-to-5 schedule, so these meetings tend to really through off my sleep cycle (let’s just say I’ve been taking lots of midday naps).  (Plus, it’s nice to see the sun once in a while!)  Still, all of these meetings have been really exciting and it’s cool to see that people in the industry are taking interest in what I’ve been up to.

There have been a lot of really fun gigs this month, too, including a show on a boat (much thanks to Jonathan for setting that up!).  That show was a real test of my ability to hold an audience’s attention - if you can get an audience to laugh, applaud, and give you all of their attention while cruising past Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and other boats, then grabbing an audiences’ attention in a comedy club is a relative cakewalk.

Some big things are a brewin’, so here’s hoping for an even more exciting October!

F. Scott Fitzgerald

(Thanks to J.)

I love this quote.  I think it applies to all art, including comedy.  In many ways, comedy - and art - is about finding the universal in the personal.

I had the honor of performing at magician Larry Week’s 90th birthday party.  (For a detailed write-up, including pictures of Larry and a brief bio of his many accomplishments, click here.)

I got to roast him a little during my set and here are a few of my favorites from the jokes I’d written for the occassion:

“It’s nice to know that Larry is here in spirit.”

“I’m not saying that Larry is old - I’m just saying that he is SO FUCKING OLD.”

“You were born 9 years before SLICED BREAD was invented.”  (That’s actually true - Larry was born in 1919 and sliced bread wasn’t sold until 1928.)

“When Larry was a boy, there were some people who didn’t think women should have rights and there were some people…who weren’t born yet.”

It was really cool to honor Larry (who’s a sweetheart and loved the roast/performance) and to see, once again, how much support magicians give each other.  Really a beautiful night.  (All capped off with a fun set at the New York Comedy Club, where I really just let it rip in a way I hope happens more - felt really comfortable and relaxed, in control, and crushed my way through the set.)