–By Jan McInnis, Comedian and Keynote Speaker
So I’m surfing my 8,011 channels of TV trying to find the three shows that I like, and I’ve finally figured out why, even though I’m a professional, full-time comedian, I’m not a huge TV star: I’m not crazy. There are more “reality shows” than comedy shows, and everyone on these reality shows is getting attention, and maybe a little fortune, for their weirdness. It seems that if you open up your nutty private life on the air on Monday, then you’ll be signing autographs by Saturday. When I grew up there was a family on our street that was kinda creepy. We stayed away from their house; who’d have thought they could become stars!
Okay, I’m game. Being over 30 in my comedy career makes some people think I’m tapped out for going the traditional route of fame by getting on some of the comedy TV shows; they want younger people who have so-called “edgier” acts. I once had an audition for a late night TV show in which the comedian ahead of me was performing his four- minute routine for his appearance the next night on national TV. His comedy bit about squirrels eating their private parts when they get nervous got a standing ovation. I went on and had a not-so-great comedy set talking about work and kids. Traditional TV for me as a comedian, if they want this stuff, might be tough, so I checked out reality TV to see where I fit in.
I have Barbies! Yes, I have Barbie and her husband Ken and her sister Skipper and cousin Francine plus her “Dream House” and convertible and a few other miscellaneous Barbie kinfolk. I also have a four-foot high mouse that I won at a carnival bottle toss – I’m one of the five people on the planet who actually
got the ring to fit over the Coke bottle. Carneys are probably still using me as an example. If someone says “That’s rigged, the ring is too small,” then the carny can counter with, “Nope, back in 1974 a young lady in Virginia actually got one on there!” That was me. Oh, and I have a black velvet Elvis picture that I got as a joke. With all of these unusual things, I must be a hoarder! Yeah, there are two (yes, two ) different shows on which a hoarder can rise to prominence, so I’ve got all sorts of options.
But alas, it turns out you have to have a lot more junk than a few dolls to qualify, and it has to be weird junk. My family still thinks I’m a hoarder because of the dolls, but apparently I’m stuck somewhere between hoarding, collecting, and just plain I-can’t-throw-this-away-yet. Maybe if I had just kept Barbie heads, then I’d be famous, because your collection must be eerie, creepy, disgusting and massive (like used diapers and expired mayonnaise or maybe used diapers stuffed into mayonnaise jars) to qualify. Not to mention that your house needs to be filled to the rafters to make it to hoarding fame—I’ve failed at the one thing I am kind of good at.
Never fear though! I travel a lot, so maybe I’m better suited for fame on a deserted island surrounded by pseudo-friends whom I stab in the back while they sleep. There are more of those Survivor – type shows than hoarder shows, and perhaps they are a better match. . . especially the show that involves self-proclaimed “rednecks” living on an island and competing for beer. I don’t consider myself “redneck” but
I do like beer. However, after watching just a couple of episodes, I realize that my idea of roughing it is being in a hotel without a soda machine and a gym. I cannot do an island for six weeks. Plus, I really hate being mean to people and more importantly, I hate people being mean to me. Though I’ve thought about it, and if I were on an island, and could only bring one comfort item, it would be a toss up between dental floss and nail clippers. I could get along without an iPhone, iPad, and Google, but a hangnail would make me go insane and become back-stabby . . . so maybe I could play that game after all.
There’s also a show about people who are addicted to eating weird things like plastic plates and paper products. I once ate a whole bottle of Vitamin C tablets (they are delicious—tastes like oranges), and as my sister can attest, I actually turned a shade of orange. And I’ve also eaten sea urchin while trying to impress a first date and prove that I am an experienced sushi connoisseur (who knew there was more to sushi than avocado California rolls?). Unfortunately I could barely choke down the sea urchin, something that is acceptable to eat, so I doubt I could swallow a non-food item. And don’t get me started about the acid reflux!
And there’s also the show in which you spill out your entire embarrassing financial portfolio to a woman who will then berate you on your spending habits and put you on a budget. I’m not talking Suze Orman or Dave Ramsey, I mean a woman who actually lives with you and gives you tasks to learn how to save. That might have been helpful back in my 20s when I was using my credit card to afford groceries, but right now I’d have to go in debt to qualify for that show. Seems too expensive.
My other options for fame on a reality show are to go to prison, or marry a prisoner—no thanks, I’m too claustrophobic for a cell and I don’t think I’d do well in a long-term relationship. Or I could command fame if I drove a truck in ice storms in Alaska (yuck), worked on an oil rig in Texas (double yuck), surrounded myself with rich, fake women friends who secretly loathe me, tried to get a date with a beautiful, insincere person, dug for gold (I’d hate it, and it’s the reason why I don’t have rich women friends), became a nanny (because being childless at my age is a sure sign I’ll take good care of your kids), swapped spouses, renovated my house, or cooked a gourmet meal in 13 minutes. Whew! There are a lot of ways to get famous, and my talents don’t appeal to any of them!
Or maybe it is that these ways don’t appeal to me. Explaining how I got famous by eating duct tape or housing 600 cats in my basement would be more embarrassing than explaining why I still have a Barbie dream house. I don’t want to open my life up like that. But maybe it’s not all about fame anyway, but rather about having fun doing what you do. I enjoy being a comedian — laughing and helping people learn how to use humor, and so if we measure stardom that way, then I can say that I am as successful as Sandra Bullock! So here’s to a great new year having fun and being a hit at whatever it is you do, no matter how many people are watching!
About the Author. . . Comedian, comedy writer and keynote speaker Jan McInnis has shared her customized humor keynotes with thousands of associations and corporations. She is also the author of “Finding the Funny FAST; How To Create Quick Humor To Connect With Clients, Coworkers And Crowds,” and “Convention Comedian: Stories and Wisdom From Two Decades of Chicken Dinners and Comedy Clubs.” Jan was featured in the Huffington Post, the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post for her clean humor.
From a recent health care client: “. . .they scored your closing session 4.62 out of 5. That is the highest score we’ve received in the past four years for a closing session. . “. So I just wanted to say thank you again. You were a perfect match for our group and they loved you!”
