When you do comedy, you want to get laughs. They're sort of a must have if you want to get paid. And I'm not too proud to go for a cheap laugh. But sometimes I think it's possible to sink too low. I do my parodies and music in Irish pubs and there's a long tradition of bawdy humor in pubs. But lately, I've seen some entertainers lower the bar until what they're saying is gross and not really funny. It has shock value and sometimes gets that laugh of surprise or the nervous laugh I wrote about recently. But sometimes the vulgarity really doesn't go anywhere.

Case in point: I saw an act recently and while they were performing a young woman told them her parents were there celebrating their 31st wedding anniversary. The couple their daughters with them and and their husbands and some family friends were also sitting with them. The comedians had the couple stand, offered a nice toast to 31 more years, then sang a wonderful love song for them (Black is the Colour of my True Love's Hair.) A nice moment. The couple was a little uncomfortable with the attention but everyone saluted and celebrated their accomplishment and the humor was good-natured. I figured we were ready to move on. But then the two comedians started to riff about the couple and the patter devolved into a litany of body parts and sex acts. The place got quiet and the laughs that came were uncomfortable (for the most part.) As I looked over the room, I could see that what laughter there was seemed to be coming from a few twenty-somethings while the majority of people slightly older were quiet. Maybe the young folks were wishing they had their own parents there so they could get in a few shots.

Anyway, from my perspective, the comedians didn't know their audience and stepped out of bounds in order to get a cheap laugh. The laughs came at the expense of a wonderful couple who were there with family and friends to celebrate a milestone in their lives. The comedians honored them at first and actually solidified themselves with the audience in the process. But they didn't know when to say when and went for the cheap laugh at the expense of innocent bystanders.

Knowing your audience is everything to a performer. These guys still have a lot to learn.
And even pub acts need to know when and where to draw the line. Some things are better left unlaughed.

I think one of my favorite moments in doing comedy is when you get that nervous laugh from the audience. It's a laugh of recognition--recognition of the fact that you've spoken an uncomfortable truth and that the audience is worried about just how far you'll take this line of thought.

Comics of every stripe, whether Irish or urban or redneck or borscht belt, have all recognized the power in uncomfortable laughter. Some stand-up comedians make their whole careers about pushing audiences out of their comfort zones and into the funny but uncomfortable truths about their lives that they would rather not admit.

Part of being human, I guess, is dealing with those parts of ourselves that we can't ignore and may not be able to change in significant ways but wish we could hide or forget. But I think when we can at least laugh about those "less than wonderful qualities" in ourselves in the company of other people, we acknowledge our common foibles and frailties and begin to take some power over them. The laughter is an admission of our imperfections and maybe a bit of a challenge to deal with them better. Laughing about our faults and sharing in the laughter with others keeps us from feigning perfection or taking ourselves too seriously but challenges us in a way that doesn't make us feel guilty or despicable.

This type of laughter is a bit like going to confession without being slathered with guilt. And, not surprisingly, admitting our flaws, even by laughing about them, gives us the opportunity to begin to deal with the truths that have now been exposed for all the world to see.

Growing up in West Virginia, I first experienced Irish and Celtic music in the form of the Appalachian music my family played. My grandfather was a self-taught mountain banjo player and when I visited him we would inevitably play for hours through some of his vast repertoire of songs and tunes. As I grew older and began to learn more about Celtic music, I was amazed at how similar and yet how subtly different the Appalachian versions were from the original songs from across the waters. Each was very much tied to its culture and the changes reflected the needs of the singer/storyteller.

Today, I love to perform the old songs and will choose one version or another depending on which seems to fit my audience's culture and context and(honestly) sometimes just based on which one evokes the sheer beauty or truth that touches me more.

I feel fortunate to have a foot in both worlds. If you're interested in comparing some of these song versions side by side, Thistle and Shamrock did just that in a recent broadcast (I believe it was on September 7 or 14. Check it out!