I Tell Jokes Now

I know it seems like I’m breezy about running a national magazine. I know it appears that I only worry about money and who is hosting SNL this week. I know I act like I run a high school zine in the 90’s.

I know all of this. I’m doing it on purpose.

If I let the magnitude of this job, what I’ve built, how many people I reach, the level of people I work with…if I thought about it, for even a moment, I’d crumble under the weight of it all.

I focus on the work part of it all. I put my head down and I tackle everything you’d expect I do; distribution, content, revenue, finding new writers and anything else you can think of. That’s not generally something I talk about. Not out of modesty or anything noble like that. It’s just, that’s the boring stuff. That isn’t the stuff people want to hear about. They want all the fun stuff.

I’ve learned that people like for the magazine to be serious and for me to be, well, me.

I am not a serious man. I wasn’t a serious teen or kid. I took on and still take on serious jobs and challenges, but I do it with a strange carefree attitude. I got the job done. I am effective. I am thorough and organized. But I’m not serious and I just can’t take myself all that serious.

My life has been too serious. I decided around the time I got into care, I would not let the things that have happened to me dim my disposition. I find angry people off-putting. I find I want to help sad people. But happy, fun people? Those are my people. Those are the people I surround myself with. I need that energy. My vulnerability and susceptibility to depression is well documented, I combat that with laughter.

I also thrive in communities. First in athletics and scouts as a kid. Then athletics and journalism as a young adult. Foster care and adoption communities have filled the last decade. And now I have joined a new community. One I have waited my whole life to join.

I have watched the great joke tellers with admiration for as long as I can remember. Whether it was a funny cousin or friend or if it was one of the top stand up comedians on TV, I was there with open eyes and ears ready to absorb it all. Comedy writers and Stand Ups have always been heroes to me. Brave men and women willing to put themselves out there. It’s one thing to think of something funny. Nearly everyone can do that at some point in their day. It’s another thing all together to write that funny thing down and then walk into a room full of strangers and say that thing aloud to see if everyone else thinks it’s funny too. The guts that takes.

I have also had near crippling stage fright for as long as I can remember. Get me in a group with folks and I can tear up a room. Add a dozen people to that group, insert a microphone and a ton of judgmental eyes staring at me and I freeze. At least I used to.

You see, back in February of this year, another former foster kid and funny person, Amaru Lewis, you know him, he made the film Annie Was A Liar. He’s also an accomplished Comedian. We’ve become friends over the years. He learned of my love for all things comedy and extended me an offer. Would I come out to Michigan and test my skills at his comedy show. Against my better judgement, I said yes.

I was shaky and fast, but I got laughs for every one of my jokes. I worked hard on that set and it got results. I thought with a lot more work, I could be a decent stand up.

I have gained a reputation for getting the things I chase. As a matter of fact, I have a joke about it. It goes something like this. “I wrote for newspapers in high school. Did ad agency work and sold cars as an adult. Then I started a magazine from scratch and now I do stand up. I found my “What I Want to Be When I Grow Up” list from kindergarten and I’m just running through the list. I’m gonna be a Cowboy next week!”

My logic in chasing this particular dream is kind of simple. I didn’t think I could do it, turns out I can, so, it’s worth the effort. The mag has been around since 2011. I’ve got a great bullpen of writers. I’ve got great columnists and I work hard at it every month. There could always be more advertisers and subscribers, but I’m proud of what I’ve built and how smoothly it runs despite it being just me doing the bulk of the work. I did the math, I can still grow the magazine and grow as a comedian.

I’ve been at it for over 6 months. I get better every time.

As mentioned, I work better in a community. The foster care community has been more than kind to me, but I never see anyone. The magazine is a lonely gig. Most of my interaction is via email or social media. I’ve basically been isolated for 7 years. It’s made the magazine better, but my health has suffered. You may recall my degenerative scoliosis. It gets worse the longer I sit here in front of the computer. You know? The lifeblood of this whole thing? Yeah. I need to be here.

But I’ve been going out some nights and telling jokes. Just that little bit of activity has made me stronger. I couldn’t stand to tell jokes for the first few months. My legs get shaky and numb if I stand too long. Unfortunately, too long was a minute or two. Now, I can do 5-minute sets without getting too shaky or numb. I’m hoping that my desire to get better forces me away from this computer more often than the last seven years. I’d like to be able to walk in 10 years.

I guess what I’m saying is; I’ve added Stand Up Comedian to my list of titles. Kind of proud of myself for going out on a limb.

But not as proud as I am of this issue’s cover subject. MelRo Potter has been in the magazine before. You might remember her story. Or maybe you remember her as the Mother whose son took her to Prom because she hadn’t had the chance in high school. That story was in People magazine. Or maybe you’ve seen her face in an ad somewhere. She was a Ford Model at one point.

In Ghana, yeah, Ghana, she is known as the woman who started an International school.

We former foster kids have a knack for catching the dreams we chase.

I can’t wait for you to read the story and see the pictures.

There’s a fictional story in this issue too. Not something I generally put in the magazine, but I thought it was really well written and worth your time.

Well, I should probably let you get to it. Thanks for letting me write your eyes off (that must be the writing equivalent to talking a person’s ear off) about my new love of doing Stand Up rather than watching it. I hope I can good enough that you’ll want to hear my jokes.

See ya next month. Enjoy the issue.