Funny Things You Can Do With Balloons...

Balloons are the best thing in the world to a kid.  Heck, to an adult.

I deal with balloons so much, I forget how special they are, I forget people don't see them much.

The first time someone showed me how to make a balloon animal, I thought it was the neatest thing in all creation.  I couldn't believe that I knew how to do something so cool.  I showed everyone my 3 balloons.

You can get huge laughs by playing into the amazement people have with balloons.  One of my biggest laugh getters is just blowing up a balloon and forgetting to tie it.  With slight variation, I blow up a balloon and forget to tie it 10 or 12 times in a row.  Each laugh bigger and bigger.

The key to a repetitive routine is slight variation.  I blow it up just a little and let it go.  I blow it up half way and try and tie it but it's too late.  I blow it up all the way and can't get it tied.  I blow it up all the way but this time very quickly.  It's all the same.  The comedy is not realizing I'm doing the same thing because I think I'm trying it in a different way.  It's the same as Charlie Chaplin trying to eat different things, then eating his shoe.

Then the knots.  Trying to tie the balloon before I blow it up.  Tying the balloon like a pretzel and being very pleased with myself for being so smart, then letting it go.  Tying it around my finger and then I can't get it off, like it's a booger.  Then tying it on the other finger...

If you want bigger laughs, the simpler the better.  The simplicity of blowing up and tying a balloon is a comedy gem.  Every kid has blown up a balloon, or tried.  A skinny balloon is unusual, that's the fun.

Like all routines,  it's about character.  A routine forgetting how to tie a balloon can be just frustrating and stupid if it feels false to an audience.  If it's in your character, you can be incredibly proud each time you figure out a new way of blowing or tying a balloon.  You can be frustrated and mad at the balloon or mad at yourself.  You can blame the way your standing and try moving to a new position figuring that will cure the problem.  You can blame the sun for getting in your eyes and that's the problem.  You can pick a person in the room and blame them for putting a voodoo curse on you.

I inflate balloons by mouth.  It's mostly because that's how I learned, so my routines are funny to my character because I can try and blow them up.

Equally as funny, maybe more funny, trying to get the balloon nozzle onto the pump.  You can miss, you can keep putting the balloon on there, till the entire balloon is stuffed onto the pump, you can put the balloon on the pump and not hold on so it gets pushed off.  Blow up the balloon, then it will deflate.

Repetition is fun and funny to a child.  Repeat the mistake in a slightly different way, so it doesn't get annoying and it's a killer routine.

At the end of all this, make a very simple balloon.  Be proud of it, like it's the greatest thing in the world and you will get a big round of applause.  Doing a fancy balloon is too much of a leap after not being able to tie a balloon.

Want to brainstorm with me?  Just leave a comment with your routine, I'd love to figure out how to help you build the comedy.  

Even Your Best Friends Don’t Get It...

Over the years I’ve been drawn to teaching, at least the thought of teaching.  I like teaching a lot, I’ve done workshops and it feels like my next creative adventure.

Teaching is my next step in the learning process.  In order to teach, I’m going to have to figure out so many things I do by instinct, have learned in classes, read about or put together from all those areas combined. 

I don’t share my interest in teaching, except on this blog.  It feels a little awkward that my performing life is beginning to close.  Teaching feels like I’m getting old, I’m becoming that old professor with suede elbow patches and wire frame glasses. 

Two days ago I was talking about teaching to a good friend.  He said, “How many teachers can you name that do kid’s parties?”.  

It was pretty insulting.  

I’ve been thinking a lot about that statement over the last few days.  I think as a performer, I’m an idiot for doing kids parties, kids shows in general, I don’t make much money, it’s a much harder way to get famous and people look down on it, e.g. my friend the big time magician.  

On the other hand, what is more important than a family celebration focused on a child?  The only place in this world  where enemies and friends are in agreement...children.  Children have to be protected, loved, nurtured and fed properly.   

There is no audience that enjoys entertainment more than a children’s audience.  

I know what the world thinks of what I do for a living and it makes me scratch my head, I think it’s pretty important.  But when a friend says it, it makes me want to scream into my pillow at night.  

"Because I've Got No Better Place to Write This..."

Sometimes you just don't know what to do with emotions.

My brother called a half hour ago to tell me my uncle died. I don't know what to do with how I feel, so I thought I would just share with my 4 loyal followers.

Both my parents were not very close to their families. I didn't get to know my uncles till I was an adult and it bums me out, there is so much to learn from families. I always figured there was something wrong with my dad's brothers. I come to find out, they were fun, loving, interesting, had lives, had families, had interesting experiences.

My Uncle Richard lived outside Philadelphia in Bucks' County. He was in advertising for umpteen years. He thought up the idea of the Union 76 ball on antennas. When I would ask him about it, he was never very impressed with the concept, it was just something he did and he found very amusing that there are Jack in the Box balls, baseballs, little heads with a team football helmet. I have a Ralph Wigum on my car antennae. It was a promotion that worked, he got a bonus and moved on.

I always thought it was pretty neat.

My Uncle Richard was very into Vietnamese Pot Belly Pigs. So much so, he carried pictures of pigs in his wallet of pigs in bonnets and costumes. My Uncle's wife Susan became very interested in them and started rescuing the pigs that were abandoned. While Uncle Richard wound down his career, he began putting his advertising energies toward the farm, pig rescue, specialty food, promotion for the farm. Last I heard they had something like 70 pigs living there. They had a specially heated barn, they wandered freely on the farm and had a very nice life.

The last I saw my uncle was almost exactly a year ago, I brought my son to the farm and goofed around there for a few days on a trip to the East Coast.

Uncle Richard loved Mexican food and when he would come to visit I would find a place with character. The grittier the better for him. He wanted truly authentic Mexican food. I don’t think he even cared if the place paced health inspection.

One time just he and I went out, it was a rainy Monday night. We were eating in a small place, there was one other table and the two of us . A Mariachi troupe came in, stood by our table and played.

6 or 7 musicians, trumpets, guitars, the whole works. I tipped them to go away, because it was a "bit" loud. You can’t have a conversation over 6 musicians dressed up like bull fighters playing La ‘cucaracha.

My uncle was convinced to his now dying day I set this thing up. I promise, I did not. I wish I were that clever.

I loved him, I loved his sense of play, I loved his mischief, I loved that he forgave me for being a liberal that lives in San Francisco. This is my life, odd things happen to me all the time, I am a magnet for this sort of thing. This sort of thing happens to me a lot.

I'm glad it happened, he got a big kick out of it.

For the last few months, I kept thinking I should call. I didn't of course because that's the way people are. You mean to do things but you get in your own way and talk yourself out of it. I don't have anything unsaid. I just liked talking to him.

Well. I loved him. He was very funny. He loved pigs. Since he met his current wife (he was married 3 or 4 times!), he has had a great life, they were married something like 25 years. He was always happy, full of mischief, always pleasant to be around.

We all lose family. There's nothing very special about me. I just happen to have this outlet, I write.

I was going to go to an Aikido class and sweat my sadness out. I just didn't feel like being around anyone. So I write...

"I like the sameness of being a clown..."

For all the improvisation, for all the unexpected I live with, I just realized, I love routine.

I'm as baffled as anyone.

My costume is always the same. I rotate shirts, because they stink fast but always the exact same look. I feel very strongly about always maintaining my look.

My show is routined, I have tons of side comments, that's the stand up comedian in me but even the side comment stuff has a place within the show.

It's very funny for me to be writing about this because I've always thought I had an unpredictable life, I didn't like routine, I didn't want to be like everyone else. My favorite things are done by routine. My clowning is decided for me. I have always liked Aikido for the routine of it. The classes have set times, attacks and defenses are repetative. My kids and their school, getting them there, picking them up...

I'm the man with the grey flannel suit...except mine has colored spots all over it.

One More Time...KIDS ARE NOT AFRAID OF CLOWNS!

I got an email the other day asking if I would share a story another blog posted about children and how they are scared of clowns.

I responded, no thanks, with some explanation.

It's just frustrating. Kids are not afraid of clowns. Kids are afraid of bad performers. No one likes bad performers, it's why it's called bombing and not pillow fighting.

I see this over and over all the theories from people that don't know anything about clowning. Here's an idea, maybe before you write something, you could do a slight bit of research and talk to a few professionals???

I think the writer that contacted me had good intentions, they seemed to like clowns, but ended up discussing all the usual about make up. BS. I don't swear, but BS. so that's the closest I'll come but this makes me want to swear.

In my community, there are cultures, yes entire cultures that absolutely love clowns. From little little ones to the grandpas. The Latino community loves clowns. There are a bunch of working clowns in The San Francisco Bay Area that are native Spanish speakers and make their living in this market. When I go into stores in the Mission District of San Francisco, item after item uses a clown on their box to promote their product. I see culture after culture and guess what, people are people, children love clowns, that's why clowns exist.

It's this insesant background conversation. In Mexico, everyone loves clowns. In America we talk and talk and talk about the fear until it becomes real for people. If 3 year olds in Peru, Mexico, Brazil, El Salvidor love clowns, 3 year olds in America love clowns as well. It's the parents telling kids here, don't worry about him...or that's just a man dressed up...or don't be afraid. Um...you think saying to a little child, don't be afraid, might think their's something to be afraid of? duh everyone!

Ok, so it is what it is. This is the life I've chosen, fighting the system. What I can do though, is insist on excellence. Put out a clear character and children will respond. Put out a false character, that's a copy of a copy of a copy and the clown character is muddy and odd. Focus on character. If you aren't sure what I'm talking about, ask me for help. If you don't want to do that, take a class, take an acting class, take improvisation.

"Kids are afraid of clowns" Tell that to the 10,000 plus children I saw last year, most of them hugging my legs begging me to never leave.