I Am A Pro!

I will get shot down for this opening line! Well, not that one, this one: when everyone is laughing anyone could do my job!

The other week I posted on Facebook that I’d just had the worst performance of my life. It gained some attention, lots of colleagues getting in touch privately, some publicly, but most missed the point. I was offered sympathy for such a bad reaction from the crowd, offered excuses as to why the show had been badly received but they simply missed my point. It wasn’t the crowd, the room or the time. It was all me!

I was simply awful that night at 10.30. At 7.45 and 8.15 I’d been good. But even after two shows I just wasn’t on my game. I tried all the tricks I had learned to turn this performance around. They all failed. I was stumbling over lines, missing nuances out. I was sweating, my speech was rushed, my timing, wow, my timing wasn’t off it was non existent. The audience did laugh but not nearly enough and I couldn’t blame them. I could only blame myself. And I am happy with that pressure.

People say comedy is the hardest job in the world. It simply isn’t. In my opinion, I say ‘my opinion’ hoping this will stop another influx of messages from colleagues who will undoubtably disagree with me, stand up comedy isn’t even the hardest job in entertainment. Singers, magicians, jugglers all rely heavily on other people, other factors, that makes their task harder. Their show can be screwed up by bad sound, an inadequate band or a poorly chosen ‘volunteer’ from the audience. Not a comic. Not a proper stand up comedian.

For me, a proper stand up comedian is one who attempts to make the crowd laugh without props, a song or a dummy. A human and a mic, that’s really it.

I was doing a Warner hotel years ago and met up with the dancer who was looking after sound and lights that evening. I gave her the music for my play on and play off.

“Nothing else?” she asked.

“Nope that’s it!”. Confused she asked again, being more specific.

“No other cues for music, no songs, nothing else?”

“Nope!” I tried to assure her.

“So, what? You’re just going to stand there and talk for 45 minutes?”

Yep because I am a proper comedian.

I remember calling comedian Kevin Devane years ago excitedly telling him I’d died on my backside twice on a Seabourn ship but in both shows I still reached my 45 minutes.

“You’re a pro now!” He told me.

I never craved fame. My only ambition was to be thought of as a decent pro. Now, there are many ways to be a pro.

My last contract saw me sailing on Holland America. I do look forward to shows on these ships: the audiences are made up of many nationalities and the support from the crew is second to none. My first show was scheduled for the 5th of November. But it’s a ship and things change. Flexibility is key from everyone and anyone who is employed by a cruise company. At 6.46pm the phone in my cabin rang and as usual I considered not answering. I had a book in my hand and I could do without the interruption but I looked at the display and it read ‘Entertainment Director’ so I answered.

In short I had to do the show that night. It was at 7.30. I had 46 minutes. It wasn’t an issue because I am a pro.

The Entertainment Director arranged to have my shirts pressed while I did a quick sound check with the tech team. By 6.58 I was back in my cabin, showered, head shaved and had written my plan. I could easily do a show without a plan because I am a pro but I alway write a plan because I am a pro.

I wandered backstage just after twenty past seven and I was on stage getting laughs just after half past. My opening even included a story from a previous experience of being the last minute change.

Ironically that time I was also onboard another Holland America ship. I wish I could remember which damn ship it was…

It was just before lunch on a sea day and the weather changed dramatically. Enjoying a sandwich and the motion of the ocean I remembered it was the cast show that night and they’d not be able to work in those conditions so I finished what I was eating and headed to my cabin.  I pressed my suit and ironed a shirt, I shaved and aside from my plan (the plan never gets written more than 45 minutes before showtime) I was ready to go. It wasn’t even one o’clock.

Fast forward to just before 7 and my phone rang. No displays on the phone in those days so I answered. It was the Cruise Director.

“Paul, can you do a show tonight?”

“Of course, what time?”

“8”

“Oh, that’s about an hour, oh, erm, well, yeah, I guess…”

Naturally I was backstage by 7.45. I knew I’d be working so I was ready, I am a pro. And now I am the hero too. But the best was yet to come: the introduction from the CD.

Blah blah blah “Unfortunately due to the inclement weather we have had to postpone the cast show because the last thing we want is for any harm to come to our singers and dancers. So, please welcome comedian Paul Adams.”

But my favourite pro moment fulfilled a dream I had had for as long as I had been cruising: to board a ship from the Pilot boat via the rope ladder. Strangely it was on yet another Holland America ship but please don’t ask me the name of it.

I joined the ship in Dubrovnik having flown from London via Barcelona. My connecting flight was severely delayed and I landed in Croatia about the same sort of time that the ship had called for ‘all aboard’. Spotting a panicked looking port agent we ran to the car and raced along the twisting roads to the port.

The ship was there, still alongside.

Not quite, ropes were up and the vessel was a few feet from the dockside. And we still had port security to deal with.

Allowed to enter, we were now parked watching the ship sail away. Something I rarely get to do. It was then I spotted the Pilot boat. It was going to happen. I loaded my luggage first then jumped on, beaming!

Minutes later we were alongside the ship and the rope ladder had being lowered. Bag went first, showing you once again how high up the food chain of importance I was, am. Then it was my turn.

Cheered on by what had to be all the guests from their balconies or open decks I made my way, so slowly, up each ‘step’. Two security officers grabbed an arm each and I was safely through the door and aboard.

The Cruise Director greeted me with a handshake, “You’re on at 7!”

“What time is it now?”

“6.27!”

And so it was. Thirty three minutes later I was onstage, mic still in the stand opening with

“I never wanted to be one of those comedians who opened his show with ‘Wow, the trouble I had getting here.’

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  1. This is funny, of course, but also a really interesting account of how you approach stand up. I’m already looking forward to the next blog !

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