Trying to Find Humor in 2018. Dipping to the 80s to Make Sense of Laughter Right Now

Last night, friends and I went to a country club for a radio-sponsored comedy show, just to do something different and to have a new adventure to put into our pockets. I've been to 100s of comedy shows, mostly at the Comedy Caravan in Kentucky, but it has been a long time since I've been to a show. Usually, you find a way to laugh at whoever is making the jokes and, even if the humor is uncomfortable, you find a way to chuckle. Last night's show, although it had glimmers of possibility, was a dying event. I don't even have the names of the comedians, but I do know I felt horrible for the last guy, the headliner, as he tried to find a way to connect with the audience.

It didn't happen.

I started thinking about Billy Crystal, Robin Williams, and Whoopie Goldberg performances in the 80s - the HBO specials with Steven Wright and George Collin, the Pee Herman routines, and I remember sitting around with my family and laughing. I also remember the wackiness of Emo Phillips and Tudy Tenuta in the late 80s and how their ridiculousness somehow figured out the pulse of the nation. Even Steve Martin seemed to find a way to make people follow him as times changed.

That didn't happen last night. The guys went offensive and inappropriate, sometimes gathering a chuckle, but more often that not hitting something that was supposed to be funny, but only hit the funny bones of an ignorant few. Yes, it was a mostly white, working class audience in a country club, but they seemed to have no grasp of audience or what it would take to make people laugh.

I started thinking, "Do we have humor for this generation?" It seems to be sort of obvious what one might go after, but they seemed to be struggling. Perhaps it's because the nation doesn't know if it wants to laugh right now or cry. Everyone wanted an escape, but with news as it is, social chaos at the forefront, and absolute crass diction centralized from government offices, the jokes just didn't work like the comedians wanted.

I felt like a dud and rather than get into a chuckling mode, most of us sort of got irritated and angry. I wondered, "Where's the humor?"

I guess I'm wondering that at large, too. "Where's the humor?"

Leo and I talked about the art form of comedy and wondered if, after a set, comedians go back stage to assess their craft. It's a tricky career, too, because you can never read an audience or figure out what will amuse them.

I'm thinking that things have become too tense, and no one thinks the clownsmanship of the real world is funny anymore. Whereas laughter was an escape, people seem to be looking for more punch and commentary in the jokes. Sexist and racist humor doesn't fly, even in an audience of mostly white people. It just wasn't funny. It was frat-boy obnoxious.

There were a few jokes that were clever and thought-provoking, but making humor of the #MeToo movement is destined to make people squirm. A night of laughter turned into a night of discomfort. It might have been the spicy chicken wings, but I think the acid stomach came from the fact that I the comedians weren't funny. They came across as @$$holes.

Bring back Tenuta and her ridiculous Goddess routine. The absurdity worked, and we need that right now. I'm going to be processing the uneasy feeling I felt for a while. It just didn't work and, well, I'm wondering why....perhaps humor of yesterday is no longer relevant or appropriate for right now. It's just dumb, clueless, and stupid. Hard to laugh when you listen to the vitriol of radio pundits and the people who support them.