I’m not a big laugher. I mean, I do laugh from time to time at random things – but at jokes? It’s tough. I tend to listen pretty well to what is being said, how the words fit together, to the cadence, to the word choice, to the context and the intent – and in doing all of that, my brain is usually too busy to laugh. I analyze, squint my eyes a bit, and cock my head to the side like a dog who just saw a magic trick – but laughing can be hard to get to. I’m weird.
At open mics, a lot of times, I pull into my brain and dissect what’s happening on the stage, the mood, the environment, who’s there, what’s working, what’s not, how I’m going to get home, and bladder control. I can’t make myself laugh at stuff that I don’t find funny. I don’t have that skill in my toolbox.
Mostly, I think that I think a lot. I enjoy observing because I’m super-curious as to how things either fit together, or don’t. I do break from time to time and laugh at certain energies, and at things that surprise me. Not shock, but surprise. (I could talk about shock vs. surprise for awhile – but – that’s a different article.)
This isn’t just at shows either, it’s in life too. People have come up and said “I’ve noticed that you don’t laugh.” or “Everything okay? You’re squinting a lot.” And in the end, I think that I just like to stand around and let everything sieve through my brain so that I can then make fun of it. I am by far the most comfortable on stage in front of a crowd blibbling and blabbing because there, in theory, I’m not even supposed to laugh – even if there are times that I do – because, sometimes I get surprised by the words that just rushed out of my mouth, their cadence, and how they all fit together. I think comedy might be ruining me because it’s the only time that I feel comfortable and like I know what I’m supposed to be doing – even if I don’t always know exactly what I’ll be doing. Probably blibbling and blabbing.
(The debate on comics who laugh at themselves on stage being proper or not is also another article.)