And Featuring ... Chris White
Chris White started out on the Wiseacres stage in August 2002, performing once a week at the Thursday open mic for more than half a year. These days he's a little more busy, traveling the East Coast and Midwest as a feature act. He has a reputation for clean (but dark) humor, and in addition to his onstage comedy, he also runs two web sites, Dcstandup.com and chriswhitesucks.com. He came up with the not-too-original idea of interviewing local feature acts, and since he'll be at the DC Improv from May 19-22 with John Witherspoon he decided to kick off the column by interviewing himself.
Wow, you’re interviewing yourself. Isn’t this just a direct ripoff of Brian Regan’s Web site?
What? I am SHOCKED. Shocked and appalled that you would even suggest such a thing. And ... hey, look over there!
Over where?
I guess it was just a bird. Never mind. Anyhow, you were asking me about my start in comedy?
No, I was accusing you of ...
I used to toy with the idea of stand-up in college, but I never had the guts to try. Then in the summer of 2002 The Washington Post ran an article in its Weekend section about local comedy clubs, and it had mention of a few open mics. I don’t know if it was boredom or what, but me and a few friends went to Wiseacres in Tyson’s to watch an open mic. It somehow didn’t seem as intimidating as I thought, plus I had the next week off from work, so I signed up and started working on a routine – stuff about my name, something about dancing at weddings, something about chaos theory – and I practiced it while I was on a day hike by myself in Shenandoah. I walked a 10 mile loop through the woods, talking to myself and various woodland creatures the whole way, doing the same seven minutes of material over and over. That night I got on stage to perform; my knees were shaking and I was scared to touch the mic. But I had my jokes down cold, so I got through it OK and had a pretty nice response. Enough to make me want to go back just about every week for the next seven months.
All I got out of that story is that you talk to yourself. Weirdo.
Oh yeah. I write my material on a computer, but I find that when I’m saying it out loud, different parts of my brain kick into gear and I think up new angles. When I worked in downtown DC at the Washington Post, I used to go for a walk every lunch hour that the weather was nice. As I walk I cycle jokes through my head, but once I get into it I forget where I am and start saying the jokes out loud. From there it’s only a short time until I start adding hand gestures. Once I was walking south on 16th St. on my way back to the office, and I noticed that a few women walking toward me on the sidewalk suddenly looked very scared and crossed the street in the middle of the block. I thought it was very strange behavior, until I realized that I was walking quickly towards them, muttering under my breath and waving my hands. They probably thought I was crazy. I’m guessing they were the ones who called the police officer that tasered me five minutes later.
How did that feel?
Like a party in my brain stem, and everyone was invited.
So where do you get all the ideas for your jokes? The Internet, right?
Honestly? I’ve tried sitting down with my chin resting on my fist for hours, trying to find something funny about a certain topic. It almost never works and it usually makes my chin sore. All of the funniest things in life seem to be spontaneous, with the possible exception of human combustion. Sometimes I overhear people talking at a supermarket; sometimes I’m talking to friends at a party; sometimes I’m watching TV with my girlfriend and we yell at a commercial. Whenever something or someone really makes me laugh, I make a mental note, and then when I get to my computer, I try to figure out a way to translate that moment into standup. That does take work – just telling a story about me having a conversation at a party would be boring. The trick is finding the crispity, crunchity humor center of a spontaneous moment, stripping out the boring real details and then replacing them with entertaining ones.
So, basically, you’re stealing all of the funniest jokes and comments made by the people around you.
Yup. Here’s a great example. One time, my mom and my aunt had a spontaneous and brilliant plan to convince my dad that he had rabies. It really happened, I had NOTHING to do with it, and it was one of the best practical jokes I think I’ll ever see. But the story ends with my dad finding out he doesn’t have rabies. Not very funny. So I take out any unimportant details, put myself into the story, and add a very surprising ending.
Which is … ?
Money up front. You’ll have to go to the Improv to find out.
You magnificent bastard. Your cruelty knows no bounds. But on to my next question: You seem to talk about family a lot. Why?
Well, first off I really love my family, and it’s a kick for me to work them (or fake versions of them) into jokes. (Same reason I like to joke about my girlfriend.) Second, I think audiences love hearing family stories, because they all have similar stories from their families, unless they are robots disguised as people and in that case, I refuse to cater my act to the metal overlords. Finally, my deceased grandfather left a will stating that if I make fun of my dad on stage 5,000 times before turning 30, I get $500 million dollars. The only catch is, I can’t tell anyone what I’m trying to do, or I lose the money. Wait … oh, crap.
Smooth. So if you had to describe your style of comedy, what would you call it?
I hate that question. Some people say it’s “smart” comedy but that’s a horrible description for an audience to hear. If people think that YOU think you’re smarter than they are, they automatically hate your guts. I guess if I had to put it any way, I’d say that I allow audiences to identify with the universal truths inherent in each story I tell before revealing a crucial detail which recasts the presented facts in an unexpected and farcical light, thereby inducing merriment.
You’re right. I now officially hate your guts.
I knew that you would.
Well, if you’re so smart, why did you go into full-time comedy? Didn’t you have a cushy office job?
Oh, I had a great job. Like I said before, I worked at the Washington Post. I was a fact-checker and editor for opinion columns for five years, and it was great. In the mornings, it was actually OK for me to put my feet on my desk and read the paper. I worked every day with all kinds of brilliant writers, and on top of that, our office was right next to the community room where the Post had all of its catered events. I got free food almost every week.
Uh, how do you edit opinions?
Well, if you think the logic in a column is faulty or underdeveloped, you talk to the writer about it. They get the final say on what runs, but it never hurts to ask. Most of the time, though, I just had to clean up typos and grammar.
Sounds exciting.
Oh it can be. Especially when you miss stuff.
Such as?
Imagine the worst possible typo for the phrase “public sector.” I missed that twice in five years.
If they didn’t fire you over that, why did you ever leave?
They moved our office away from the community room, so I stopped getting free pastries. I need free pastries.
For once, we agree. So, if you’re so into the news, why don’t you talk about politics on stage?
A lot of political humor is really condescending. I’m not militant, but I am a registered Republican, and I can’t tell you how many jokes I’ve heard that boil down to: “Anyone who is a Republican is a sub-human moron.” They aren’t really jokes – they’re thinly veiled anger from people who really DO think they’re smarter than you. It’s fine for us to disagree, but don’t tell me I’m a total idiot because I have a different worldview.
You’re a total idiot for different reasons.
Yes. Because I ate lead-based-paint chips as a child. Still do – they’re delicious.
Again, we agree. On your Dcstandup profile, you say your favorite artist is Stevie Wonder. Really?
I don’t joke about Stevie. Pre-1980, he was the man. Great voice, great lyrics, great musician. Everyone knows he plays piano and harmonica, but he played his own DRUMS on a lot of albums and was great at it. Plus, he has this kind of cheerful optimism in a lot of his songs about the whole world being united in peace and love. Even if the real world tells you different, it’s important to have people who dream about those things.
Oh, barf.
No, really. The world is crappy most of the time, but one of my favorite things about comedy is that it often gives us a chance to see the better side of human nature. Even if you’re the biggest cynic in the world it’s very cool to see 300 people from all different backgrounds laughing and smiling together. It makes the crappy parts seem … uh, less crappy.
Very eloquent, you pansy. Best album?
Early career, “Signed, Sealed & Delivered.” Post-Berry-Gordy-Smackdown … it’s probably a four-way tie, but I’ll say “Fulfillingness’ First Finale.” Ask for it by name.
Who else are you into?
I’ve played the trombone since fifth grade, and through that, I ended up listening to all kinds of genres. But if I had to pick a few … get all the “Parliament” albums. They’re great to listen to in the car, and they actually tell a story. A completely incoherent story, but that’s half the fun. Tom Waits is also really, really good, especially if you are planning on becoming an alcoholic burnout and want to know what it’s like beforehand.
OK, time to wrap this up. Any final thoughts?
Come see the show. I really think it’s going to be great. The emcee is a very funny guy named Bey Wesley and the headliner, John Witherspoon, is basically a comedy legend. In the middle, I will do 25 minutes of the best comedic juggling known to man.
Wait, juggling?
Gotta go. Bye.
Chris White is at the DC Improv from May 19-22. For more information, visit www.dcimprov.com.