I have always loved stand-up comedy. I remember seeing forgotten funny men like London Lee (not particularly funny), Jack Carter (not particularly funny) and others on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was sometimes permitted to stay up late to watch George Carlin or Albert Brooks on the Tonight Show. One summer, my family was vacationing in Atlantic City. ("Vacationing" for the Pincuses was a weekend - about all my father could take.) One night, my usually disagreeable father followed my mother's lead and we all went to see Totie Fields at Steel Pier. My mom loved Totie Fields and my father sort-of feared my mother.
I don't remember how many times I attended performances at the Comedy Works, but it was a lot. I saw dozens and dozens of comedians. Some were young, anxious souls hoping for a career making people laugh. Others were weekend comics, who went to regular jobs during the week. Still others were "old pros" at the trade, grinding out the same routine on a different stage in a different town, wishing one night a talent scout would approach them after the show and invite them to perform on the stage next to Johnny Carson's desk.
Over the years, I was treated to early career sets from Bob Saget, Craig Shoemaker, Todd Glass and a very unmemorable set from late comedian Richard Jeni. But that wasn't Richard's fault.
The line for admittance wasn't anything out of the ordinary. We paid the small admission fee and were escorted to a table about four or five rows back from the stage — about midway in the 300-seat venue. At showtime, the regular emcee (club co-owner Steve Young) made a few jokes before introducing the first comic. I don't remember who it was — probably someone local. Soon the second performer was welcomed... and I don't remember who that was either. Steve came to the mic and announced the next comedian as a "young man, just coming up in show business and making his Comedy Works debut... oh and you might have seen him on Saturday Night Live."
Honestly, in 1981, nobody I knew was watched Saturday Night Live. The original cast of "Not Ready for Prime Time Players" were replaced by a cast of unknowns and there was no longer a reason to stay home to watch. So, the young comedian that was just introduced bounded up to the microphone and proceeded to immediately knock the audience. on its collective ass. He was hysterical. Hysterical, like no one I had ever seen. Hysterical, as in laughing so hard that you could not catch your breath. The room was so filled with loud, raucous laughter that half of the guy's material was missed because it was drowned out with laughter from the previous punchlines. People were literally crying from laughing so hard. I have seen a lot of comedians. I had never seen a reaction like this.
Eventually, the young man's set ended and the emcee introduced Richard Jeni, the evening's headliner. At least I assume that's what happened next. In reality, I don't remember hearing another introduction and I do not remember seeing Richard Jeni come on stage and I certainly don't remember a single topic that Richard Jeni talked about. I don't even remember a single word Richard Jeni said. I'm not so sure he was even there.
What I do remember is that everyone — everyone in the entire room — was talking about how unbelievably funny the previous comedian was. Everyone was ignoring poor Richard Jeni, as the discussion of the previous act grew louder throughout the venue. At the evening's conclusion, the emcee thanked everyone for coming and, as the crowd made its way towards the exit, lively chatter about comedian number three could still be heard.
It was his only Comedy Works appearance.
He went on to bigger and better.
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