Jokes

Eleven days ago, I graced the stage of The Funny Stop for the last time. (The club closed March 30th.) It was a bittersweet night. Seventeen friends came out to see me. I was as nervous and unprepared as always, and it still went well. I ended my performance with a story of the Owner who passed away a few years ago.

This is one of many ways I feel old, understand the speed of time, and have floods of regrets about ways I have squandered much. Sure, I can blame it on age, immaturity, mental illness, substance abuse, and the typical wildness of being young. But only in times like this do I realize how precious life is, how much the little moments matter the most, and how wild and unpredictable life is and can be.

The Funny Stop was my home. It was the home of so many new friends I made the last sixteen years. It was the place I began my comedy journey. It was the place I stepped out of my comfort zone and tried something new. It was the place I learned that performance high is the best there is. It was a place I found myself when I wasn’t even looking. And I will forever be grateful for the friends who pushed me there. It gave me a love I never dreamed of. It gave me an outlet. It fed my soul. It gave me life.

It also gave me bravery to stand in front of other strange crowds in places I had never been. And I never prepare. I don’t write jokes. And for the most part, I have absolutely no clue what I will say until I hear it with everyone else. That’s why I don’t drink when I do comedy. I want to know and remember what comes out of my mouth–especially if it works. I’ve used a few lines multiple times.

As I said, I don’t write material. I don’t have to. Life can be quite funny if you sit and think. There’s always a punchline if you look hard enough. And if I’m being honest, God gave me the ability to take normal happenings of everyday and bring them to life. God gave me the ability to tell stories. And I will be forever grateful.

Now to anyone who’s been to a show or even seen some video footage, one might argue that God did not give me that mouth. Technically, He did. It’s that free will that gets me in trouble. It’s that free will that hinders us all. I digress.

Back to comedy. I had no aspirations of ever stepping on a stage. I had no dreams of telling my life in that way. I wasn’t someone who had a favorite comedian or even watched comedy. And actually, I had my friends take me to an amateur show before I ever attempted it. I needed to see what it was all about. It wasn’t in my cards before, but God had other plans.

There’s something to be said about standing in front of 270 people wanting you to entertain them for an hour. That’s 540 eyes on you. It’s nerve wracking and scary to say the least. But the thrill and the challenge get you going. I once had a show that went so well, I had to stop talking three different times because the laughter was so loud that you couldn’t even hear me on the mic. That adrenaline kept me up for three days. It was amazing. It was a feeling I will never forget. And when I am old and my faculties have left me, I hope I have flashbacks. I hope when my loved ones are gathered around to say goodbye, I am overcome with a few of those moments. Because laughter is powerful. Stories are powerful. And when you can reach them with both? It is the best feeling in the entire world.

My grandmother had a best friend from childhood named Sonny. She moved to Texas and lived with her daughter. I met her shortly before graduating college with my first Master’s Degree when she came home for a visit upon the passing of her mother. She was an intellectual and highly intelligent. And strong, independent, and funny. We hit it off immediately. I loved talking to her. It was the quickest visit I ever had at my grandma’s. (Sonny later sent me a card with a check for $100 after I graduated. How sweet and generous was that? She had only met me once.)

Sonny had a hard life–like all the ladies her age seemed to. And at some point, as she had gotten older, it became increasingly difficult and seemingly impossible. She finally retired from her job and moved in with her daughter. I’m not sure why she had to, but she did. And her days of driving her BMW convertible came to an end. And the days of taking care of herself faded. She became severely depressed. Hospitalized several times. Before she knew about it, grandma would call her, but the communication became worse over time. She was no longer hearing from her. A couple years had gone by before Sonny’s daughter called grandma to tell her of Sonny’s condition and the seriousness of it. Grandma would call Sonny’s daughter to get updates.

I became heartbroken when I learned of all of this–not only for Sonny but also for my grandma who was losing one of her best friends. I was also sad for me. I was quite fond of that lady. She was classy, highly intelligent, eloquent in her speech, funny, kind, and generous. Her strength and independence were admirable. It was sad to hear she was slipping away.

I felt called to do something. I wanted to help. But what could I do? I did the only thing I knew. I wrote her a letter and told her of things I said at one of my comedy shows. I was hoping maybe she would snap out of it. (Her depression got so bad that she had to go through shock therapy.) I was hoping she would come alive again. I was hoping she would have the ability to crawl out of that deep, dark hole and call grandma once more. I prayed it would happen.

And as I type this, a few tears are welling up in my eyes. God answered my prayer. Several weeks later, when I went to visit my grandma, (which I did very often) she was so excited to tell me that Sonny was doing a little better. She said Sonny got my letter and read it and was able to laugh again. She was able to breathe and feel alive again–even if for a short time. She was able to call grandma again.

I never felt so humbled. So happy to be used. So alive in my purpose. So thankful for the gift of writing and the ability to tell stories in a funny way. It was then that I realized the power of laughter. It was then I realized the greatness of these gifts. It was then I became truly thankful for God giving me a gift I never asked for and answering prayers in an immediate and positive way.

Sonny didn’t live much longer, but for a short time, my grandma had her best friend back. It was great to hear and wonderful to see my grandma happy. I will never forget the feelings I was flooded with when I heard of her short return. And I will never take the gift of storytelling or making people laugh for granted again. It is powerful. It can bring people back and in turn, bring you back, too.

I hope Sonny was there to greet my other grandma and the others I’ve lost. I hope she remembers me. And I hope one day we can catch up again.

Thank God for small moments, friends who push you, and bravery when you need it. Thank God for the gifts we do not ask for, answered prayers when we need them, and the wisdom He shows us through those gifts and prayers. Thank God for laughter, jokes, and the ability to tell stories. To God be all the glory. Amen.