The Comedy Competition - You Gotta Love 'Em

  Last night I performed in a comedy competition - "The World Series of Comedy" - at Zanies in St. Charles, IL.  Sixteen comedians took the stage to win fabulous bookings, including advancement to Las Vegas.  Some comics flew from as far away as Washington (yes - the state!) to perform in this battle of hilarity for the opportunity to simply work more. (Yes - comedians love their craft that much.)  I had a super time.

   My reason for entering the competition was not for an opportunity to win.  Yes.  I said it.  Because I perform a one-person comedy show, I was not trying to win the prize of a middle spot at various comedy clubs.  And, based on my history of my competition abilities I was not worried about winning the grand prize.  (Some thrive on the competition aspect.  I generally avoid competitive comedy.)  I entered the competition because I wanted a personal challenge.  I wanted to stay "fresh" over the summer months when my bookings ebb with the school year calendar.

  To prepare for the competition, I performed a five minute set one week ago on the St. Charles comedy stage.  This guest set was to get the wheels back in motion.  My daughter said, "Yes Mom.  I could see you thinking."  Mission accomplished.

  Four days later, I went to "Laff Out Loud" in Schaumburg for another five minute "practice" set.  I was surrounded primarily by new talents.  The energy of these brand new comedians was amazing.  Most went on stage "raw" with new jokes that screamed "This is what I think is funny."  The laughs were minimal and most of the material was blue (i.e. dirty).  However, the energy among the comedians was new and hopeful.  It gave me a great push to polish my set.

  And this brings us to Wednesday night's competition.  With two sets of preparation, I was back on my game.  The audience was fantastic.  I reached my goal of making a great stride forward as I prepare for my corporate bookings which seem to wake from a deep slumber in the fall.  I won a personal prize of accomplishment and that, to me, is the greatest win of all!

Join Sally Edwards at The World Series of Comedy!

Comedian Sally Edwards at Zanies Comedy Club

The World Series of Comedy
Zanies, Pheasant Run, St. Charles, IL

Join Sally Edwards and 39 Professional Comics as they Compete To Win A Trip To The Main Event in Las Vegas! Special room rates available at the Pheasant Run Resort!

Wildcard Wednesday:
Round 1 comics will perform 5 minutes.
Three round 1 comics will advance.
One Wildcard winner will perform in each of Thursday & Friday shows.


Thursday:
Each comic in round 2 will perform 7 minutes.
Six round 2 comics will advance to Saturday's first show.

Friday and Saturday: Comics Line-Up Coming Soon

First Place:
Direct Entry & Free Registration into the Main Event in Las Vegas
$200 Airfare Voucher for Trip to Las Vegas
Hotel Room for 5 Nights in Las Vegas
Paid Work from Zanies Comedy Club
Come out and be heard!

Help! I'm Vacationing with a Teen!

This past weekend my daughter  and I went on a “girl’s weekend.”  We packed a bag and headed for a bizarre but unique museum-of-sorts called “House on the Rock” near Madison, Wisconsin.  I was thrilled to go.  My daughter has been away at college for a year and she came back having a new appreciation for “Mom.”   (My friends said it would happen but I had too much post-traumatic teen stress to believe it.)  In just one short year, I’d shed the labels of “uncool”, “lame”, “pathetic” and “kinda creepy.”  (I believe that now I am well on my way to “Woman of the Year.”)  

Our weekend was a mere 36 hours long.  I thought it would consist of a nice “House on the Rock” visit, an overnight stay at a hotel, reading and dinner.  After all, as I remember it “vacation” means rest and relaxation.  

Hold on to your seats folks.  I forgot what “vacation” means to the young at heart.  In just 36 hours, we visited House on the Rock (a two hour tour of the collections of Alex Jordan), Cave of the Mounds (a one hour tour of a limestone cave), the Frank Lloyd Wright Visitor’s Center (my daughter is studying to be an architect), a game of racquetball (which consisted mostly of hysterical laughing), a game of tennis (more laughing), a stop at a roadside petting zoo, a visit to “Little Norway” (just like Norway – but little) and finally, a peek at the Wild West Museum.

When we returned home I was still running, high on the NoDoz I took just to make the three hour drive without needing a nap at the wheel.   I felt invigorated!

The next morning, my daughter left the house at 5:00 a.m. to work at her summer bakery job where she stayed until 3:00 p.m.  The next morning, I didn’t look cool.  I looked pathetic, lame and “kinda creepy.”   I stayed in bed ‘til 12:00 and I believe I can tell you how it feels to be in a bar fight.   It has taken me two full days to recover.  And yes, you guessed it, my daughter is still going strong.  Maybe “cool” was too big of a goal to reach in 36 hours.  I’m pretty proud of hanging in there, not breaking anything and remaining conscious as I drove the rugged terrain of Northwest Wisconsin! 

Who needs to be young and cool again anyway?  It’s just  too exhausting!

The Change of Life and Perry Como

I'm not sure that most women know that the change is coming. Most women aren't even quite sure the change has arrived as they stand motionless in the eye of their own hurricane. Oddly enough, those dear men who accompany us through life and who we claim are oblivious to feminine needs are aware of the change the very minute our hormones start to do their wicked dance.

     What gives it away? Is it the spinning head or the weepy welcomes or the air conditioning running in December?

     I admit I was oblivious. I knew something was not quite right. I thought I was sick. My brain was not functioning as normal. It's as if people were talking to me and I was absorbing the information through cotton candy. I felt slightly feverish. "Surely I must be coming down with something," I thought.

     It can't be menopause. I'm not sweating profusely in bed. I had experienced a hot flash or two over the years but nothing significant. Menopause is supposed to be loaded with countless nights of changing nightgowns. I was in the clear - or so I thought.

     "I believe you're peri-menopausal." Dr. O'Brien peered at me down his nose and through horn-rimmed reading glasses. That was a new one. "What's peri-menopause?" I asked. "Well that's the time before menopause when a woman starts to feel mild hormonal changes resulting in cloudy thinking and feelings of warmth accompanied by stress and irritability."

     Still not convinced that I could have a pinky over the other side, I asked, "But how can you be sure that I'm peri-menopausal?" In professional knee-jerk authority he responded, "Do you know who Perry Como is?"

     Perry Como - the American crooner, the hearthrob of the '50s and beyond.  I remember Perry Como, the famous singer, the recording artist, the television star, that handsome hunk. I  confirmed the many years I spent on earth when I responded, "Yes!"

     And with that the deal was sealed.

     I drove home realizing I reached the summit. I had that one pinky over the line. I tried to cheer myself up by humming a tune - a rendition of "Jingle Bells" that Perry Como made popular so many very short years ago.

Teens and Their Menopausal Mothers - The Emotional Train Wreck

Every new mom is warned about the "terrible twos"- the time in your child's life when he or she is transformed into a mobile destruction unit no longer capable of understanding the word "No".   Every mom comes out with her war stories of the child who survived their own personal reign of terror.

Brendan spun out of control and threw himself sideways down a flight of stairs; Steven jumped on the bed in his sister's room, missed that perfect landing and broke his leg; Christine sucked on the counter at McDonalds and lived to laugh and shudder at the story.

Ah, the terrible twos- the simple life of parental worry. Little did I know that the terrible twos were baby steps to prepare us for the terrible teens- those adorable out-of-control kids- with attitude!

Does it strike you as ironic that most young girls approach their change of life into womanhood at the same time their own mothers are approaching their change of life into the golden years? I refer to this phenomenon as the hormonal train wreck. Two cyclonic life forms spiraling out-of-control trapped in the boundaries of four brick or aluminum-sided walls. No wonder the house starts to heave ho and split at the seams spilling out teenagers screaming, "Freedom, freedom, freedom!"

Does is strike you as odd that in the "olden, olden days" young boys were plowing the fields and assuming an iron-clad work ethic so that they could start their own families at age 14 or 15? Now we keep them under wrap until they're 18 and wonder why they attempt to blow the roof off the house with loud music full of agonizing lyrics.

And so I muse at the ironies of my terrible teens coming of age. I see the sky darken and the 30-foot wave approaching as lightening bolts strike a former sea of calm. And every time another emotional wave approaches with its threats and outbursts, I think to myself, "OH YEA, I USED TO DO THAT TOO!"

Clean Comedy Comes Home

Having "grown up" in the Midwest as a stand up comedian", I know that clean comedians in the Chicago area are a rare commodity these days. However, with the overkill of provocative comedy on cable television, they are making a comeback. Comedians performing clean comedy in the Chicago are ahead of the game.

I first took the stage in the mid-80's when television's comedy heroes were just beginning to change. While my parents still laughed at the one-liners of Bob Hope and the gimmicks of Red Skelton, a new generation was forming that would follow in the footsteps of Lenny Bruce and George Carlton. Material was becoming more risqué and very edgy.

With the advent of a few cable television channels, boundaries widened. Comedy material that had been "bleeped" by major networks was gradually becoming accepted. While the likes of Joan Rivers and words like "pregnant" had once raised eyebrows, the rants and raves of Sam Kinison made such references pale in comparison. America wanted to hear the straight talk. Offensive language and material was the new kick.

Welcome satellite TV and everything in between. Hundreds of channels and no specific guidelines for taste or tack cause the "tell-it-like-it-is" factor to spiral out of control. Every physical body part is explored and fair game for joking. The crowd goes wild as baby boomers are no longer silenced by the censor of the mom and dad generation. Who could have predicted after years of honing comedy material for the CBS, NBC and ABC talk shows that absolutely anything could be said or written for television? The baby boomers spilled their guts and ranted and raved. The uninspired became just plain foul.

The audience grew tired of it and even disgusted. Where's the genius in over-using the four-letter word?

And the tide takes a turn.

Clean comedy is back. No longer thrilled by shock value, a new generation sees the value in the inspired observation. There is an awe in watching a clean comic work and get laughs. Like an injured warrior taking his first step without crutches, there is bit of heroism in clean comedy. Audiences like the fact that they are treated as intelligent human beings who "get it". Clean comedy is the new "hip" because it offers a fresh approach to funny as life and all of its joys, pains and pitfalls are turned inside out.

Clean comedians in Chicago are making a comeback along with the rest of the nation. This really is a time for change when we re-examine our values and find joy in clean and intelligent humor.

Sally Edwards is a professional clean comedian, keynote speaker and corporate humorist who began her career studying improvisation at Chicago's Second City. Sally has been featured on Showtime's Comedy Club Network, A&E and NBC TV's Friday Night.

Sally Edwards is the president of The Humorous Speakers Bureau in Chicago.

Married Sex and The Irony of Leaving Home

Wait a minute. Something's gone askew. I got married so I could have an intimate sexual relationship with my partner whenever the mood so swayed me. I moved out of my parent's house so I could become independent and have privacy with my mate. I imagined doors left wide open, no room off limits and we might give the neighbors something to talk about!

The irony of all this hits me as I lay in bed with our two year old son, Brendan who is sprawled between my husband and me. Brendan's wild contortions in sleep could land him a gig as an acrobat in the circus. This "come sleep with Mommy and Daddy thing" seemed like a good idea the night the thunderstorm hit three weeks ago. Now I realize I've created a well established pattern that just might be the 100% birth control guarantee the world has been chasing.

It's a guaranteed deal. Kids in the bed, kids in the bathroom and kids watching TV with their ears wide open will bring your love life to a screeching halt. And when I say "kids", let me explain - it only takes one.

Young adults leave home for independence and privacy and what is the first thing they do? They start making plans to bring more people into the house! It appears that the passionate lovemaking goal is not a satisfactory end in itself.

When I have a vacant look in my eyes and start to cry at cartoons, my parents offer to watch the kids. "Go out for the night. Enjoy yourself! We'll take care of everything." It sounds exotically tempting but "out for the night" in senior lingo means "Go to the 5:00 movie. We go to bed at 7:30."

When a husband and wife "go to bed together" that phrase takes on a new meaning after babies are in the house. An exhausted daddy who has given too many piggy back rides and has the baby's puke on his golf shirt lies next to an incoherent mommy who is still babbling "The Wheels on the Bus" lyrics. They lie motionless from exhaustion in half-sleep until the human alarm rings at 2:00 a.m.

Let me review the plan here - move out, declare independence, pursue perpetual love making in every room of the house.

Reality show - spit covered zombies sharing the bed with a two-year old bed hog.

Why does this plan gone awry by young adults perpetuate itself? Because it is a great plan! It is full of surprises, twists and turns. It is a plan full of unconditional love, comfort, security and peace. My husband and I had our own plan of independence and marriage but it appears God's plan is so much

better. And yes, God does believe in birth control. It's called "Grind to a halt. There's kids in the house!"