The Comedy Writer and the Poet Should be Friends

Well, here I am slaving away over a hot keyboard ironing out the last kinks in a sketch for "War of the Squirrels," this year's 7th Annual Day of the Dead Dinner Show.

Earlier today I was in KYXS - Coyote Radio's Studio A, recording local poet Mary C. Bragg (that's her over to the left there.)

As I'm writing tonight, I'm thinking about the connections between comedy writing and poets. Bear with me on this particularly strained metaphor, won't you?

As many of you who have seen one of the previous six year's worth of shows can attest, the DoDDS features an evening of comedy radio theater. That is to say, something like "A Prairie Home Companion" on NPR or possibly something like old timer radio, such as Jack Benny or, as our own Comic Genius Christian Smith would say, "No, its not actually like any of them."

Which is true. Like these shows we make live sound effects in front of the audience, such as the sounds of a hot air balloon run amuck or hapless actors running from a herd of manical hyper-intelligent squirrels. And like these shows we have rapid fire jokes and biting satirical comedy about life around us.

But this isn't Minnesota and it isn't Hollywood. No one will ever confuse our little fictious town, "Crest Top - pronounced "Crestup," rhymes with Messed Up," with another other place. Such as places with people proud to live in a historical place but a little fuzzy on why it's historical. Or places where a small town Shakespeare company might consider robbing a bank easier than getting arts funding. Or places where a cat making jokes about catnip and Rastafarians is frowned on. In short, nothing like our own present, enlightened society.

Which brings me to Mary C. Bragg. As I was listening to Mary roll out a half dozen perfect little moments wrapped in lightning quick turns of phrases and sly metaphors for living, I started thinking about the connections between her craft and mine.

In writing either comedy and poetry, you need to give the audience a clear idea of what's happening. You can't clutter the way to the punch-line and hope to have an audience ready to feel it when they get there.

You need "la mote juste," the right word. For example, weasels are funnier than mink. I don't know why. They just are. Canadians are funnier than weasels. Again, I don't know why, but perhaps you do. Zombies are also funny. So, we can imagine that a Candian zombie grappling with a weasel would stand the test of time in terms of comedy. Perhaps so.

Rhythm is very important. Many comedy writers swear by the "Rule of Three" as in comic idea, comic idea, comic idea, punchline. I often find myself swearing three times before any punchline comes into view so I can agree with them that far.

Well, this sketch isn't going to re-write itself. So, I'll bid you all adieu for now. Although, as I'm thinking about it - - a sketch that re-writes itself could be funny. See the writer has slumped over his keyboard, exhausted, asleep. And there's a weasel, see. And the weasel, wait, a whole bunch of weasels come out and that Sugar Plum Fairie music starts playing as they re-write the sketch. That is until the Canadian zombie sloooooooowy enters . . . (Good night, folks!)

Andrew Johnson-Schmit
President-for-Life
Coyote Radio Theater