Saturday, May 16, 2009

A lesson for those graduating

"... and so the second penguin said, 'I thought YOU were bringing the compass.'"

Tom had nailed it. His timing, his enunciation, his syllabic emphasis, they were all perfect. All that remained was the ensuing waves of laughter.

He waited for what seemed like 15 seconds, although it was no more than three. No laughs. Not even a chuckle. "Tough crowd," he thought.

Just two weeks earlier, Tom had graduated from Hatfield University with a degree in accounting. While job interviews were on the horizon and he'd soon be a professional in the field, he really had no interest in it. He had compromised. When asked what he was interested in majoring in prior to his freshman year, he chose accounting not because he liked the idea of keeping track of numbers, but because it was as far as he had read on the alphabetic list of major programs. He was a smart kid. He had graduated from high school as an honors student, despite refusing to study for any exam for more than 30 minutes. He could have been successful in any major he had selected. He chose accounting, but crunching numbers was certainly not his dream.

Tom wanted to be a comedian. He always had. As a kid, Tom absorbed all the stand-up comedy he could, from old tapes of Bill Cosby to rising comedians on Comedy Central. He memorized their routines and mimicked their actions. He grew up craving a chance to be just like them; to be in front of a crowd and have them rolling with laughter. Today, he had his audience.

His penguin material had failed miserably, but he wasn't going to fret. That wasn't his "A" stuff, after all. It was time to dig deeper into his repertoire. He transitioned into a story about two blind politicians - a democrat and a republican. Politics were always comedy gold. He knew the key to a good joke was proper build up, so he spared few details. He delved into their political backgrounds. He articulated their facial expressions as they debated. He even mentioned the shine in their shoes. He glanced at the clock as he spoke of their political views on immigration. He knew his time on stage was winding down, but this would be worth it. It was all building up to his punchline, and he could not wait to be engulfed in laughter of those in the audience. As he spoke he recognized friends and family in the crowd, even old relatives he hadn't seen in years. This was his chance to shine.

"The democrat folded his arms and said, 'Well, I don't see it that way.'"

Yahtzee. Tom could not have told the joke any better. With his eyes on the crowd he saw a few small smiles and heard a couple faint laughs. It wasn't the wall-rumbling response he had hoped for, but he said a quick thanks anyway, and left the stage with a smile and a wave.

Minutes later, as Tom sat in the parking lot on the hood of his 1984 Caprice Classic, Tom's father approached. Tom had been running his routine back through his head, trying to figure out why the crowd's response had been so timid.

"Dad, what did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, son," Tom's father said. "As you go on, you'll learn that material goes over better in some places than others and that some audiences just aren't in the mood. Nevertheless, you got a few laughs. I saw a couple youngsters that were nearly cracking up."

"Yeah," Tom replied. "I guess I connected with a few folks, anyway. Maybe the problem was the acoustics, I'm not sure they were all that great in there."

"I think you're right," Tom's father said. "Now we just have to find another opportunity for you to do your routine... This time, maybe one that isn't the open mic at your great aunt's funeral."

- - - - -

The lesson, dear readers, is no matter what your diploma says, you should never abandon your dreams.

... But you can probably leave those dreams in the car while you're at a wake. They'll be fine as long as you leave the window open a crack.

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