Lately, I've decided to start putting together some material for a return to the comedy stage. Stand-up was something I did from 2010 to 2012 and once in Afghanistan, but haven't done it since. I miss it. It was fun and creative and getting laughs and smiles was a very cool feeling.
For the first time in a long time, in middle of January I got on stage at the Tampa Improv Open Mic Night. My three minutes on stage weren't great, but they weren't terrible either. Enough for me to get my footing back and get over the first time jitters.
Along with the stage time, I am also concentrating on writing. I'm dusting off some old concepts, formulating new punchlines, and updating my material. I am also bouncing ideas off some friends to get their reaction.
Unfortunately, over the last few months, I haven't heard from a good friend who dug my past stuff and with whom I had years of hilarious conversations. Even though she wasn't a comic herself, our sense of humor was so in line, she got my jokes better than most folks in the comedy scene. Hell, she even quoted one of my bits on Facebook.
But where there was once a continuous stream of laughter and text message tones, there is now silence. A deafening silence. The kind of silence you hear when you tell a joke to an empty room. Or worse, the type of silence you hear when you tell a joke to a room, and you know they heard, but you get no response.
I know I will perform comedy again. I know I will be back on stage. Although I'd like every one of my friends to be in the audience when I take the stage again, I'd be really happy to see her there, laughing at my material again.
