Discover a New Life of Vocal Desperation or Possibly Even, Actual Fun

Henry David Thoreaux might be most famous for saying "Most men live lives of quiet desperation."

I didn't realise the truth of that until I recently signed up for a stand-up comedy course. Is that a joke? Maybe, I'd need an open spot somewhere to find out.

Actually, I didn't really realise about the quiet desperation until I was about half-way through the course, with 5 actual live gigs under my belt and there was the possibility in view of not being able to do anymore (my day job at that time was thinking of sending me to Bournemouth). I realised that I'd been living it and really didn't want to go back to it. I was simply having too much. Even though at that point I'd done a grand total of 21minutes of stand-up (my first gig was a minute long).

There were a few other things that I hadn't realised before I started the course. I hadn't realised that London is pretty much the centre of the stand-up comedy world (except in August when everybody who has anything to do with comedy is in Edinburgh). I hadn't realised how easy it is to get a 5 minute open spot at somewhere like the Lion's Den on Shaftsbury Avenue. And I hadn't realise what a slippery, ephemeral thing is the skill of making people laugh, how utterly awesome you'll feel when you get it right and how low and shitty you'll feel when you don't.

The course I signed up for is called 'Stand Up or Die' and details can be found via the tutor for the course Logan Murray (google him, you'll find his website). Logan is a great tutor for a couple of reasons. Firstly, he treats you like adults, rather than students who may well turn out to be more talented than he is. Secondly, and I suppose relatedly, if he's in anyway bitter about not being a cosmic megastar, unlike some of the people he's worked with and taught, he's doesn't let it show. The course crucially creates a safe place to try out daft ideas and behaviour. So safe and so encouraging that you start to think - hey, I might just be funny enough to stand on a stage and make people laugh.

Logan pushes two related ideas on the course. All creativity comes from play - and by playing games you can achieve "paperless writing" i.e. you don't have to sit at a desk to sweat blood to get material for a routine - you can achieve the same, or even a better result by farting about playing games with your mates.

Those are the bits that I can consciously recall, but there's clearly something else going on. Because between session 4 and 8 just about all of us started gigging. Finding open spots around London and trailing out to pubs in forlorn parts to wait all night, sober, for a five minute spot. And by the end of the course and the final showcase last week, even those few on the course that, if you'd held a gun to my head, I might admit were a bit weak, even those, seemed to have found either a new material or a new attitude to their material that made them capable of making people laugh.

As it turns out, I am being sent away from the world centre of comedy (not to Bournemouth, but to Kansas City Missouri!) I'm not sure that I'll be able to gig there (they do have one comedy club that claims to have an open mic night) but I will certainly make the most of any return visits, and who knows, while I'm out there I might pick up some material.

As Henry David Thoreau also said "In thw Wilderness is Our Salvation"
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