Blake Dowling
My recent topics in this space have been hurricanes, cybersecurity, and elections.
Let’s pump the brakes on those and take a trip into the world of stand-up comedy.
In 1987, I joined my friend Quinn Borland (he says it was not him, maybe Alex Harrell, Bobby Johnstone, or Merrill Whatley — records for that era are aging fast) for a walk through the woods from my house on Pinetree Drive to Circle West Shopping Center in Dothan, Alabama.
Our destination was Circle West Cinemas and the movie that night (only had one in those days), was Eddie Murphy’s “Raw.”
I did not know it was a stand-up comedy feature film, nor did I realize how foul-mouthed Murphy was.
Throw in a rowdy, sold-out crowd, and 13-year-old me was beyond blown away; my first stand-up comedy experience had I was hooked.
Plus, I learned lots of new words for school; everyone at Houston Academy thought they were Murphy that year (besides the faculty).
What a first introduction to stand-up! Eddie was and still is a master at his craft—just wow.
The Egg McMuffin bit? A classic.
A stand-up comic must possess a special kind of fearlessness. They walk out alone onstage. They do not have props, staging, sound and lights like a band might have, unless you are Carrot Top.
That is beyond impressive, and the opportunity to bomb is undoubtedly strong. As I got older, my education in comedy grew; the next stop was Saturday Night Live.
The original SNL cast (Aykroyd, Belushi, Murray) and their earlier work at Second City became legends and something I truly loved.
But in 1988, Dennis Miller, Dana Carvey and Phil Hartman led the cast.
Miller, especially, was a genius. Although I rarely got half his jokes, I can now Google them.
SNL did something truly unique with all that talent. They threw in a celeb host and a musical guest, and how can you go wrong? Actually, some seasons were atrocious, but that happens, I guess, with any 50-year run.
The following year, the comedy explosion continued, and I discovered Sam Kinison and Andrew Dice Clay. Stand-up comedy was now in its golden era, seemingly with no ceiling or limits. Sam and Dice were not Disney channel material, and if you don’t mind profanity, you can see one of his early shows here at Rodney Dangerfield’s club. Sam’s yelling bit worked every time.
Kinison even went further to ensure his acceptance by the masses. It was the anything-goes 80s, after all, so he formed a band with a bunch of rockers and put a song (a very predictable cover of “Wild Thing”) on his album.
That move, plus a video (also featuring superstar Tawney Kitaen — see Whitesnake) on the booming MTV network combined with a cameo in Dangerfield’s film “Back to School,” put Kinison in superstar status. His album sold over 500,000 units, going Gold, unheard of for a comedy album.
Besides Murphy, his minor hit “Party All the Time” put a little cringe in his brilliance.
As adulthood hit, new comedians emerged with the same spirit as these early pioneers (thankfully, minus the songs). We hit comedy clubs in Atlanta and Tallahassee often, and when I first watched “Three Sheets with Zane Lamprey,” I was floored. His antics and comic appeal as he traversed the globe, guzzling the local alcoholic beverages of choice of the places he visited were perfect.
Zane also had a stuffed monkey sidekick named Pleepleus. What else did you need?
These days, Zane is taking his comedy to the people, doing stand-up versus TV. He is heading to Florida this Fall, so come out and see this hopped-up act.
Then there was the evening I put on HBO — and a green-coat-wearing Katt Williams blew the doors off my Atlanta condo. His humor made Murphy look tame, and he will join us in Florida next year for what is sure to be a string of legendary performances.
What can you say about Katt? He is the man, and his comments on Puff Daddy’s legal situation are on point. Something like “don’t go to Diddy’s house” (good advice, sir).
Then, in recent years, of course, the comedy just keeps getting better.
Enter Theo Von, the master of the random look, movement, and all quirky delivery, and from right here in the Sunshine State, the shirtless legend, formerly known as the world’s No. 1 partier (according to Rolling Stone), The Machine, Bert Kreisher.
Theo is a one-of-a-kind comedian. Some of his humor is so sideways that it is very hard to describe, but it works. Here is one of his more normal bits on small towns and hamsters.
Theo is from Louisiana and started at age 19 on MTV, doing the show Road Rules. After that, he headed for Hollywood and eventually became one of the biggest stand-up stars, gaining notoriety for his text pranks. As a cyber expert, please don’t text strangers.
On the other hand, Bert was a Florida State student in these parts and embarked on a career of comic gold that included TV specials, movies, podcasts, travel shows, and just about everything else, including stand-up comedy at the heart of his craft. In the spirit of his Florida roots, he is donating the proceeds of his Bert Aid merch to assist in Florida hurricane recovery.
I was in school at the same time as Bert; our paths crossed a few times. I will say this: He earned the No. 1 party-guy ranking. His story of how to get a solid C in Spanish is now legendary and a major Hollywood film.
If you don’t know it, this animated version of the “Machine” bit is my favorite:
Comedy keeps the world moving.
Even in our darkest hours, a joke might just make everything OK — or better (for at least a second).
To those who make comedy their trade, we salute you. There are tons of stand-up shows headed our way and a gazillion comedy clubs in Florida if you haven’t seen one in a while.
As we sign off, I leave you with the line I once heard at a comedy club in Tallahassee (check out Florida’s top comedy clubs here).
The comedian walked out and said: “I got married later in life because I never met the lady that knew the six magic words. Those words are – ‘my family owns a liquor store.’”
Thanks, everyone, don’t forget to tip your bartenders.
