I really need to get my act together. I have become the go-to host for all-staff events in my division at work. I got the job because I was willing to do so, and I work in IT, where shyness is a common trait. Many of my co-workers just want to write code unmolested by the threat of having the attention of a large audience. I, however, enjoy public speaking. I do get nervous before I take the stage, but it’s not existential dread. The anxiety I feel stems from the fact that I don’t always nail it. I’ve given some terrible presentations, but, in general, I like having the attention of a group of people. It’s no secret that I like attention, as I do write about myself and obsess about the number of views on my posts. Public speaking is an opportunity to get a more immediate response from an audience, and since I have no musical talent, I try to use humor to convince people I’m charming. Eliciting laughter from an audience is intoxicating, and I relish the opportunity.
Last Thursday, I had the chance to get some laughs at work. I was the emcee for a gathering of about fifty technologists who were there to learn about SharePoint versioning, diacritical marks in coding, and other geek material. I was expected to make a few opening remarks before introducing the speakers, and, as I had no responsibility for any meaningful content, I went for laughs. I offered up a few wry comments, including some good-natured jibes at the presenters, and got some chortles and guffaws in response. The feeling was delightful, like the alcoholic rush from knocking back a shot of whisky.
I’ve always fantasized about being a stand-up comedian and getting that laughter-fueled rush on a regular basis. I’m far too practical to pursue it as a career, as I know it’s a tough way to earn a living. I’m not cut out for life on the road with no retirement plan, so I’ll settle for the occasional hosting gig at the office. In fact, as I spend the majority of my time in meetings, I think I have an opportunity to step up my game. On a regular basis, the meetings I attend are delayed as we try to get a conference or video call set up or diagnose the reason the smart board refuses to display some PowerPoint slides. I need a “tight five” – as the comedians say – ready to go at a moment’s notice to break the tension and give the meeting organizer time to get the equipment working.
I was never a Boy Scout, but I like to be prepared. I’m already an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church, which only required filling out my name and address on a postcard, so I’m prepared to preside over any emergency weddings. To date, that’s never proved useful at the office, so I’d like to add Stand-up Comic to my curriculum vitae. Of course, the hard part about being a comedian is having the material, and writing comedy is hard. I think I’m reasonably funny in casual conversation, but coming up with jokes is no mean feat. I’m working on a bit comparing new-fangled smart refrigerators – the kind that keep track of the contents and help make shopping lists – with the HAL 9000 computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey. (“Open the refrigerator door, Hal.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Todd, you’ve had enough cheese for today.”). I’ll keep working on it.
While my motives are a bit selfish, I figure trying to make people laugh isn’t such a bad thing. Getting an audience giggling is good for my ego, but we all benefit from a chuckle. Life’s hard enough when you’re stuck in meetings all day.
