David Everett Fisher


March 16, 2015 introspection

You Should Become A Comedian!

In real life I’m a funny guy. I’ve written a few blogs that I think were funny and other people told me they LOL’d – whatever that means. I love making people laugh. You can tell me I’m ugly and I’d just shrug my shoulders, you can tell me my fashion sense is dumb and I’d just smile, you can make fun of the books, music, movies and other things that I like and I wouldn’t really care, but tell me I’m not funny and I go to a dark place. Being funny and laughing is very important to me.

Then why ‘o’ why do I write such serious blogs all the time? Why wouldn’t I transfer my humor to the website?

I’ve tried. The problem with writing a funny blog is that I can’t see your reaction. I can’t hear your laughter or your groans. I can’t see if the direction I’m going with my joke is going well or not. I can be in the middle of a joke in front of people and see that I’m losing them, so I try to change direction and hope that I get them back.

When I write a funny blog I post it and then I sit there and wonder if people are laughing. I can’t hear anything. If I’m lucky someone sends a comment that is positive, but other than that I have no idea if what I wrote is at all funny.

It’s also hard to try to write funny. I would have to come up with something funny all the time and that becomes a lot of pressure. One of the reasons I have never tried being a comedian is the stress of coming up with new and fresh material all the time. I have a list of stuff I thought was funny and that I was going to turn into funny blogs, but either it doesn’t translate to the written word well or someone has already done it – better.

I appreciate all the kind words I have gotten for my serious blog posts. It means a lot when someone says that they related to my writing or I was able to capture someone else’s feeling into words. I like writing those blog posts, but when I hit publish, I don’t care if I’m getting any reactions like I would if I published a funny post.

I spoke in front of a lot of people a month or so ago and I was making a lot of people laugh. Everyone, but this one woman was cracking up. She had this frown on her face like I was a smelly dead rat in a pile of cheddar potato puke. It didn’t matter that over a hundred people were laughing hysterically to what I was saying, this one woman was the only person I noticed.

Actually that’s not true. There was a guy that I have a hard time making laugh and he was laughing, so I was at the top and the bottom at the same time.

The difference between making these people laugh and doing stand-up is that I knew all the people I was talking to. I knew my audience. I have a good idea how to make these people guffaw if I want to. Standing up in front of a bunch of strangers and just trying to make them laugh is horrifying. At least I could see if I bombed.

Once I went to a comedy club here in Portland and my friends had signed me up for the open mic part without telling me. All of the sudden I was standing up in front of a bunch of people I didn’t know and six friends who were already laughing because they totally got me. I bombed hard. I didn’t have anything prepared and all I knew then was how to make AA people laugh and these people wanted to enjoy their cocktails.

This other time my friend tried to set me up with a friend of his and we went bowling. She was attractive and nice, so I did what I thought I did best and I tried to make her laugh. She didn’t even crack a smile. I was destroyed. I’d rather hear that I was ugly or an idiot than see someone not being amused by my shenanigans.

For you extra serious people, yes my joking around is a total defense mechanism. I become the center of attention, but no one actually ‘knows’ the real me. You got me. You saw the tracks of my tears as I danced like a fool.

It is so much easier to just write how I really feel and let it go into the ether than say those things to someone. It’s difficult being intimate with people. I get the crazy idea that people would rather me be funny than serious when I’m around them. I could tell a few people I knew was uncomfortable with how sick I was.

I’ll try to bring back the funny on here. Life is just beginning to become more normal, so my serious topics are starting to run out.

7 to “You Should Become A Comedian!”

  1. Teresa says...

    OMG. I adore you. I just love reading every word you write. I would read anything you wrote all day long. More, please. Funny. Not funny. Whatever.

  2. Teresa says...

    P.S. You killed Judd at that event. He told me he was dying over the whole vaping and cancer shtick.

  3. meg says...

    I always hear your voice and candor in my head when I read your stuff. Regardless of the content. I almost never hear someone else’s voice in my head.
    It’s kind of special what you do.

  4. johnnynobueno says...

    I want to have your baby. It would be too dangerous for you, cause you have already had a C-section. LOL

  5. Kyle Robbins says...

    I respect you greatly Dave. I have enjoyed many laughs due to your “shenanigans”. Laughter is the best medicine and it’s what keeps me coming around our group of friends. And I can relate to every word in this blog. Thank you for being you brother.

  6. brae says...

    The past few days, I’ve been recreating the image of the bicyclist running into a pigeon. But I think the thing that gets me really laughing is imagining you laughing at the guy.
    Shit… I’m crying! I’m crying!

  7. Katherine says...

    Found your blog about your recent friendship with cancer. I have a dear friend just starting down that scary road. Appreciate your clear, honest, no holds barred, words. You are a gifted writer. Hope its ok to subscribe to your blog. My son lives in PDX, we enjoy the Timbers Army thing. A good friend manages the Splash Bar, used to work the Barrel Room.

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