By Melik
It was another Memorial Day weekend and I was feeling guilty. Like many other people that I know, I was excited about a paid day off without giving much consideration to the spirit behind the holiday. Using the words memorial and holiday in the same thought seemed to be an injustice to those that had given the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of democracy and freedom for the United States of America and beyond. I had a sense of needing to do more to acknowledge this somber day in a more proper way. However, my plan was made and it was extremely important to me. Ironically enough my plan stemmed from another event that I did on Veterans Day just 8 months earlier. I had taken a trip to Toronto, Ontario to do a set at Yuk Yuk’s Comedy Club.
I have to explain the importance of these two trips. Kenny Robinson is a comedian and actor who has been performing mostly in Canada going on 30 years. He is much more than just that. He is legendary. He is a leader. He is an innovator. He is a creator. I call him the Canadian godfather of comedy. And when he holds court people listen. During a show he brought baskets of chicken wings and fries into the green room for the comics to nibble on. Mr. Robinson then left the room. Someone reached for the jerked seasoned wings. One of the comics gave a stern warning not to eat Kenny’s wings. He went on to say that it was a setup and that the chicken thief might have to face a wrathful comic, he partook of the wings that were set off to the side. A hush came over the room. I looked at the basket of wings. After a few moments the ribbing began again between the other performers. I grabbed a BBQ wing and forgot the jerk seasoned once existed.
Mr. Robinson founded the show Nubian Disciples All Black Comedy Revue in an effort to help young comics of color to get their foot in the door. They have dedicated the monthly event to Richard Pryor, a pioneer that cleared a path for comedians such as Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle. Since its inception in 1995 the stage has been grace by the likes of Chappelle, Tommy Davidson, Mike Epps, Kevin Hart and Jim Breuer. In the audience you will see major players of the entertainment game such as Will Smith, Jada Pinkett-Smith, Vivica A. Fox, Damon Wayans, Jamie Foxx or the rapper DMX. Now, do you see why it was so important to me to make this long drive to Toronto to get a few moments of stage time during one of these shows?
The problem was however, I was not ready the first time. This is a tough crowd. I compare it to The Apollo of Harlem . It is a shrewd audience that will very quickly and vocally let you know what they think, how they feel and what their expectations are. I failed them. A man with much bass in his voice stated his disapproval and threw his arms in the air. That started a domino effect that sent shockwaves of annoyance through the crowd. As I watched the rippling come towards me like a typhoon, I began to panic. I was already noticeably nervous which turned into stuttering and stammering. As I began to drown in the boos, hissing and disapproving arm waving, I looked stage right to Mr. Robinson. He had a white towel in his hand. He smirked and shrugged his shoulders.
As he went to take a step I turned back to the audience in a furious and desperate effort to get them back on my side. It was too late. My throat hurt from fear. My stomach was fighting me. I felt dizzy. I angrily tried to get dirty and fight my way back but I knew I was done. I could see some ladies that had faces of empathy and I think that was the only thing that saved me from finding a dark corner somewhere and collapsing in the fetal position.
As Mr. Robinson approached me he gave me that ‘well you gave it a try kid’ look. I think that was the worst part. I felt that he had given me this opportunity and I had let him down. However, as destroyed as I felt and as I walked past people that were uncomfortably getting out of my way making sure they did not look in to my eyes, I knew I had to come back.
Travelling to Canada on a Memorial Day Weekend was very necessary for me personally but still I felt I was not doing enough to honor those that had given up their lives for freedom. My plan was set though. I was on a mission. I made it there on this last Sunday of May. I did a quick set and received some laughs. More importantly I did not get booed off the stage. I still panicked though. I know I was not bringing it the way the audience wanted.
A film maker was in the audience by the name of Tony Watts. He told me after the show that ‘you can’t be intellectual in the middle of a fart joke’. I have my style but I have to learn to better tweak it for the audience that is in front of me. I knew I did well enough to come back. Comedy godfather Robinson had some words of advice for me. And I felt okay about what I did. I began writing almost immediately after returning to the hotel room. I was awakened early in the morn with my brain flooded with more material for my next trip to the Nubian stage.
On my return trip home on Monday that sinking feeling returned. As I was thinking about my life choices I began to notice emergency vehicles on the side of the road with their lights on. The overpasses had emergency vehicles stopped on them as well. There were fire trucks and ambulances with their lights on with the personnel waving to passersby below.
I thought Canada is similar to the States but could they be celebrating Memorial Day the same as we do? Canadian flags were draped across fire trucks. In some place people were holding the flags over the edge of the bridges. Police vehicles were parked on the shoulder of the highway. I absolutely had to know what was going on. This was way too much activity on a busy expressway to not have a clue. My curiosity got the best of me and I pulled off the road behind a parked police car. There was a police officer talking to a construction worker. As I approached the police officer he got a stern look on his face. He cut me off from asking him what was going on and told me to stand back from the road and face to my left which would have me looking at the traffic going by. I could not hear through the roar of the vehicles so he repeated it in a more agitated stern way and pointed forcefully and knew it was best just to turn. He saluted as I saw a police car with its lights on coming down the road followed by a gleaming black hearse. My heart sank. My stomach churned. I turned back after it had passed and asked again.
The police officer informed me that it was one of their soldiers that had died in Afghanistan. I thanked him for the information. He stoically and quickly got into his car. I returned to mine. A tear reached the corner of my eye. My vision was blurry as I made my way back onto the highway. I was overwhelmed with emotion realizing such patriotism in another country. I thought about all those news stories back home of protestors disturbing the funerals of our fallen soldiers, each of whom were some mother’s dead child. It made me smolder with anger. I was troubled and thankful that it took a trip to our neighbors up north for me to experience the true essence of honoring those that gave the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. Another plan was in motion and I was again reminded that there is something greater than me.
~Melik / me2upro.com
This was printed in the June 20, 2010 – July 3, 2010 editio
