Day 18 - Comedy As A Crutch

For most of my life, I've been the "funny guy". Mostly observational humour, but always quick with the wit, and graced with a good sense of timing that most people neglect to hone. This developed very early on in my life, as I was picked on in school for various reasons. I wasn't a fat kid, I was actually into sports and remained fairly active. I was a bookworm, was taller than most of my classmates, and was a year (or more) younger than all of them. Quite a dastardly combination for a child. For the lack of a better term, I was a "nerd". I used to go to school early to fiddle around on those newfangled Apple II computers, stay late to hang out in the library, and after I'd finished my homework it was time for video games. Uh, yeah. Nerd alert.

So obviously I was the target for much ridicule in my younger years, and my defense mechanism seemed to be self-depricating humour. If they'd verbally bash me, I'd simply agree with what they had to say and move along. They eventually would tire of it and do the same. Looking back, this may have been a bit of a detriment to my self-esteem, but what can you do? This quickly developed into a very dry and witty observational style of humour, a good mix of Canadian and British influence. By the time the childhood ridicule had subsided, I had become a full-fledged "funny guy".

As grade school, and then high school, faded into memory, could I maintain the same "funny guy" status with new groups of friends? Oh yeah, I was a seasoned pro. Problem being, I was forcing myself to mix in some of that self-deprication again, because my weight was starting to creep in the wrong direction. I would draw attention to my obvious physical shortcomings, perhaps in hopes of putting the group or individual at ease about how "comfortable" I was with my appearance. Of course, the opposite was true. I couldn't stand how I looked, and no matter how often I reminded myself of it, I would never stop to think about how to improve it. Just hit up another party, gathering, or event, and be entertaining, usually at my own expense.

Soon, I was the "funny fat guy". Not necessarily doing the "funny fat guy" routine, you know, wearing clothes that are a few sizes too small, spastic bursts of high energy followed by fits of wheezing, falling over furniture, that sort of thing. I stuck to what I knew (although I think I've fallen over my share of furniture), in an attempt to give the impression that I was a jolly person, a large man with a hearty laugh. In reality, though, I was miserable, and it can be directly related to the size I had achieved. When I had an audience I'd instantly be "on", but when the dust settled, there was no way to cheer up the clown. It took some time, but I realized it didn't have to be this way. I was disguising my true feelings, concealing myself behind a cloak of silliness and laughter.

I was definitely born to entertain. Be it performing music in the studio or on stage, entertaining an audience with stories, jokes and quick wit, or writing and publishing my life's struggles and successes for the world to peruse, I aim to please. The difference now is that I'm not using it as front for my own lack of self-esteem. I entertain because I am able to, and it now compliments my perspective on life, rather than masking it. For the first time in a long time, I now feel I can truly be myself without the emotional discomfort that once accompanied being myself.