This must be the place

See what happens when the NBA takes too much time off between games? Which is my lame intro and apology for the following personal post on the sports blog. Indulge me or not; the electrons will cost you the same.

Tonight, I did something I have wanted to do for, well, 20 years or more. I performed as a stand up comedian. (Yes, one more thing off the bucket list.)

It was at an open mic at a comedy club in the West Village. There might have been a dozen people in the room, all of whom performed after I did. I won't say which club, because I think I am going to go back to the room (soon?) to hone the act. It's actually a surprisingly supportive atmosphere, really; the people that bombed were tolerated, rather than ridiculed, and it felt nice, actually.

I went on first, which didn't help, raced through my material, skipped stuff, didn't improvise very much and all in all, I give myself about a 4 out of 10 for the gig. But I also did not panic, shake, laugh at my own jokes or bomb, all of which seemed more than possible, especially in the dozen-odd times I tried to talk myself out of doing it in the past few days. I got some laughs, didn't overstay my welcome, and when I closed by thanking the crowd for helping me pop my cherry, they seemed genuinely surprised.

It felt like a beginning, really. And while I felt very different from the others performing -- there was only one guy demonstratably older than me, and no one else mentioned spouses or wives, seeing how there were mostly in their early to mid 20s -- it didn't seem any different from most of the start-ups I've worked at, really. A gig's a gig, and it felt good to have a mic in my hands again. I've missed performing.

Of course, how long and how often I'll do this is another matter entirely. Etiquette and my own sense of stifling shame dictated that I stay for all of the other comedians, despite my very long commute to central New Jersey. It wasn't that hard. Some of the others were fun, and I think I learned some things from being in a close club for once, rather than watching a theater situation. As in the band days, an audience that wants to have a good time will, and one that has to be convinced has starting friction. Just like in the band days, really.

Anyway, five minutes of stage time cost me, basically, four hours, and my kids didn't see their Dad tonight. But I could see doing this every few weeks, when I've got new material, and getting to the point where I could inflict it on friends and coworkers. And after that... I have no idea. But it's kind of fun to find out.

Oh, and thanks to Alex Fossella for the relaxed vibe. I'm sure it would have gone worse without his good nature. (Bonus: he's actually very funny.)

We now return you to your previously scheduled sports blog.