20160521 (laugh)

If I'm ever down on my luck I'll still have my buck.

Wish I could find my files

About my brief stint at standup.

The tape of my five minutes 

Of onstage glory disappeared

Some time ago without any

Effort on my part. The written

Script is nowhere to be found. 

I admit I may have expunged 

The records myself and buried

The memory where consciousness

Refuses to go—there is that 

Possibility—but why? Ever since

I first saw Steven Wright and

Jay Leno in local concerts I

Pegged standup as “What I really

Wanted to do with my life (if 

Only I hadn’t strapped myself

With a wife and family).” Would

I have ever taken the leap had 

They evaporated magically? 

The closest I came to being

That unburdened and free

From security dependence

Was after I had retired and 

After Jean’s death. I started

With poetry performances at

Various area bookstores and 

Coffee shops occasionally 

Throwing in some bits I

Considered experimentally

Humorous. Since the audiences

Didn’t immediately boo or 

Throw used toilet tissue in

My direction I thought I 

Might be onto something.

One night at a coffee shop

On Fairmount Circle I told

The crowd I had grown tired 

Of  performing for free. I said

That after the bit I would circle

Their tables to pick up single 

Dollars they were to place before

Them if I had genuinely made 

Them laugh. No big deal. I wasn’t

Getting rich on their dollars

And they weren’t losing big

At a dollar a head. I think I 

Sang the Jabberwocky to an

Original melody, followed

That with some invented

Lyrics to Jingle Bells but

Lauding the exploits of Genghis

Kahn, did a couple visual

Gags one of which involved

Hurling a tennis racquet up the

Aisle ("Hey, you kids. Stop that 

Racket"), and concluded with

Brief recountings of things

That were happening in my 

Life at the time (here another

Memory block). Son-of-a-gun

They laughed and applauded 

To my amazement. I did a little

Schmoozing with the girls at the

Table with the best response,

Snagging the bucks as I went.

Somewhere in among my 

Disheveled treasures is the 

Frame for my first dollar

Earned in comedy. Soon 

Afterward I found a local

Writer and performer who

Taught a “Comedy 101”

And I was off.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016