Second City.

Time to move away from my fake prostitution stories and move on to something a little more relatable (hopefully).

I’ve finally come begun an education process which was one of the reasons I came to Toronto in the first place. I’m finally attending Second City. For those of you that aren’t aware Second City is an education and performance centre that was started up exactly fifty years ago in Chicago. Since then, it’s branched out into Toronto, Detroit and I believe Los Angeles and has churned out some of the world’s brightest and funniest performers/writers. Tina Fey, Steve Carell, Gilda Radner, Stephen Colbert, Amy Sedaris, the list literally goes on and on. So naturally, I’m trying to dip my toe in that pond.

Now, I’m taking two classes. One of which is comedy writing the other, focusing solely on improvisation. I gotta say, so far…that improv class is really kicking my ass. And no, I didn’t mean to rhyme just then. For as outgoing and talkative as I am, I’m not really comfortable as a performer. If I had my way I would just turn every character into a version of myself. Which probably wouldn’t bode terribly well Shakespeare. Can you imagine Othello if I were in it? Yikes. Although, I guess it wouldn’t be a total stretch if I played Othello…if Othello’s main character traits resembled that of a sitcom sidekick from the 50′s.

I’m always nervous to go up.

Who? Me?

There’s such a huge part of me, as I’m sure is the case with everyone, where when you go up onstage, you want to say something totally brilliant and funny, and something that no one’s ever heard of before. And that can really stop you and impede on your ability to just get up and perform.

Oh, I have an -- aw, shit. Forget it...

Everytime I perform or do something onstage I feel like a dweeb.

No, no. Don't mind me.

But I have to remind myself, that you know, I came to Second City to look like a dweeb and to learn and home skills that could absolutely benefit my writing. Because at the end of the day, that’s why I’m there. I’m not looking to become the next virtuoso actor/improvisor. I’m just treating this like my formal education. This for me is my Harvard or NYU. And you know what? Those schools are difficult for a reason. They push you and help you expand not only as a performer or a writer, but also in some respects as a person.

My writing classes are by far my favourite. There’s something about sitting down with a bunch of sarcastic, funny people and just spitballing ideas around that really just make my day. Being told that if I get any animal or animal by-products on someone’s seat I’ll be dead, not so much so. Here’s the deal, I think that guy from my class was kidding. But here’s the deal, he was tall, sort of buff and bald. And if I’ve learned thing over the years, it’s this: don’t fuck around with baldy. Needless to say, I went back to my seat.

I’m always really impressed by the voices that emerge in my writing class. Not vocally, but intellectually. It’s so interesting to hear someone’s perspective or point of view of what the deem funny or how they approach “funny,” but primarily honesty. Another reason why I’m liking Second City, Second City is not a place to come and learn how to tell jokes. Both classes I’m in place such a huge emphasis on being. Which, for me, is far easier than being funny. Because being honest, is just a matter of reacting and in most instances, the humour comes through in that situation anyway.

I’m excited by how much more I have to learn. I hope I can move on and escalate to the higher levels in improv and writing.

Well, this is Liam, signing off, are as my writing teacher likes to call me, “Jew.”

Jew-lite

Liam

“Jew”

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