The comedians’ job is go where nowhere else wants to go. Comedy in all of its ability to divide us can bind us. A welcome relief.
Good times could have been great or even grand. I’m interrogated:
“Why’d ya start stand up?”
I comply, “I haven’t really. Think of it like punching cement.”
They further delve, “Are you still in it?”
I answer, “I’m the best.”
Then finally the coup de gras, “How do you get started?”
A beat. “It starts with a current.” In retrospect the word “frequency” is better suited.
I smile a smile so big I cannot close my mouth : Limp wristed chuckle. Laughter blooming? Laugh out loud? The fragility & breakable nature of the proverbial joke. When we are pondering the meaning or substance day-to-day after a joke is told to us or after a joke is read: pondering where it was going? If it was going, or will go, anywhere? If the shaft or brunt or message or essence of a joke punches you as a punchline should the proceeding day? Here is one for the rafters … Here is one for the ages … A skeleton walks into a bar & asks for a shot & a rag.
Braggart braggadocious witty catechism? Or is it catechist? I never remember … I mean I always forget!
Throw shade. Tongues stock full of bite marks for all the words held back.
