I am in awe of people who are both clever and funny, as well as accomplished in using those attributes to better humanity, or, at least, amuse the masses. I am very quippy, with middling results, and write a fair bit (mostly here, though not exclusively). I want to do something a bit more than that, or at least see if I’m capable of doing so, so I’m going to Chicago for a week in December (money permitting – the boss has OKed the time off) to do a writing class at Second City.
It’s going to be tricky as hell. I’m a recluse, haven’t written anything with other people since a second-year English writing assignment (writing a new chapter of Wind in the Willows for a Kid Lit class), and have more British sensibilities than American ones when it comes to comedy. Also, I might not be as funny as I (sometimes) think I am. But what is life without risks to ego and wallet, right? I just wish I had had the nerve sooner, so I can be as awesome as David Mitchell. (Whom I saw with Robert Webb in Edinburgh in 1999. He’s only three years older than I am and I think that was his third Fringe.)
Only partially relatedly, I watch the pilots for ‘Last Resort’ and ‘666 Park Avenue’. I am delighted by both, even though I’m genuinely unsure as to whether they are wonderful, dreadful or wonderfully dreadful. Loving Terry O’Quinn as a baddie, though.