When I was 17, I thought being a stand-up comedian was the coolest thing in the world. I used to spend countless hours after school watching and even rewatching specials by Richard Pryor, Bill Hicks and John Mulaney. It wasn’t long until I decided I wanted to try it out myself.

So, about a week after I turned 18, I went to the Ore Dock during an open mic night and tried out a set. It was pretty bad, and while my friend who tagged along did his best to be polite, I was aware of how unfunny I was.

But I did not stop there. I kept going to open mic nights all around town. I knew I wasn’t funny, but I had to learn what worked and what I should never repeat. I would spend time between classes writing out jokes. I would revisit old material, cut out the parts that were too long, and even restructure some for a faster setup and a smoother punchline.

For a couple months during my freshman year, I would hit Digs every Thursday night to work out material at their open mic. There were so many bombs. The most common feeling I had when doing stand-up comedy was failure. I remember a couple nights where people looked at me disapprovingly, like they were trying to grab a couple drinks and I was taking up the entire room and being as annoying as possible. The worst part of it all was that they were right. I was being wildly annoying.

But then there were nights where I would be in the lineup for the Breakwall Comedy group, and I’d be at an event strictly advertised as a stand-up show. Those weren’t always perfect, and my first set there was pretty awkward, but I had some of my best nights performing there. 

I was always best at pretending to be angry on stage. I was 18 when I started, and often put next to people at least a few years older than me, so the appearance of an angry kid on stage usually earned a few sympathy points.

There were plenty of other places where I worked with the Breakwall Comedy crew, some even a little outside the box. The group leader’s backyard. The basement of an office building. Once I even did an open mic at a house party. The market for stand-up comedy in the Upper Peninsula was so low that having to be creative for venues was pretty normal. 

Around my junior year of college, I started to check out a little bit more. I didn’t enjoy being on stage as much, and I was having a hard time writing jokes. By my senior year, you could count the number of times I did stand-up with one hand. Every now and then I’ll open up a word document and try to write some material out, but I always find it all unfunny.

There’s still stuff I’ll remember though. I’ll never forget the first time I made $20 from doing stand-up. I’ll never forget the feeling of having laughter follow every line you say, or even the one time I got recognized at The Vierling.

Sometimes I think I might try taking a shot at it again, but I never seem to have it in me. Sometimes I think doing stand-up brought me to studying journalism, simply because of all the editing I used to do in my free time.