Mediaphyter – A Communications Cocktail

About three years ago I convinced myself that I was funny enough to try improvisational comedy. I mean, most people laughed at my jokes, or at the very least laughed at me. Plus no one had ever hurled a tomato in my direction. So I signed up for a beginners workshop at ComedySportz, a “Whose Line is it Anyway?”-style competitive improv group. Not exactly what I originally had in mind (was hoping for a “How to be the Next Chelsea Handler” workshop) but I figured I’d go with it. I’d improvise.

I thought I would show up and some Shecky-type instructor would have me tell a few jokes and immediately rush me in front of an audience. Not quite. Our teacher, an amazing comic named Jeff Kramer, owner of the San Jose chapter of ComedySportz, instead started with teaching us the fundamentals of improv. I was confused. The next thing I knew I was sitting in a chair scribbling notes rather than taking a bow in front of my adoring new fans.

We discussed some critical fundamentals:

• Always give 110 percent; anything less will make you seem uncertain.
• If you are going to fail, fail BIG; own your failure and the audience will support you.
• You must trust your teammate; if you don’t the performance will fall apart.
• Be fluid, be resilient. Don’t get hung up on an idea. Trust your gut instinct and keep moving.

Finally, Jeff talked about the importance of thinking like children. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t want me to kick the guy next to me and scream “boys are icky!” (yep, I was that kid). His focus was on the perception differences between children and adults; how an adult will see a jungle gym as bars and rope but a child will see it as a rocket ship. Their minds are unfettered by skepticism and cynicism and therefore they are sometimes better able to be imaginative without being apologetic.

Jeff taught me some valuable lessons that I’ve been able to successfully apply to my improv experiences (I made it through three levels of classes before I got into advanced workshop and started doing shows). More important, however, I’ve been able to apply these rules at work and, to some degree, I also try to apply them to my personal life. It’s not easy – it’s about as easy as doing an impromptu somersault while simultaneously singing “I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am” in front of hundreds of people. Yet worth it once you get that booming laugh or uproarious applause.

That said, I’m going to head outside and build a Delorean out of newspapers.