Crohn’s Disease (funky butt disorder)

Hi, I’m Andy, and I have Crohn’s Disease. I never got why someone else’s disease seems to affect me so much, or why my ailment is possessive, but it does own me at times, so I stopped caring about the name. 

Crohn’s is an auto-immune disorder where my immunity gets a lil too fired up, sees food as a foreign invader, and then attacks my own intestines (good lookin out, immunity!). The pain of a flare up will make me freeze, no matter what I’m doing. I’ve freaked quite a few people out with a mid-convo collapse. It hurts a lot. Like, a lot lot. It hurts so much that a part of me wants to throw hands when I hear someone ignorantly refer to it as a “shit-your-pants” disease. If shitting my pants was my biggest worry, I’d be on easy street with shitty pants. 

The easiest way I can describe a Crohn’s flare up is having a grade school bully perform a Native American rug burn on your intestines. So as you can imagine, not shitting my pants isn’t too much for me since I’m already pretending not to writhe in front of people. 

My Crohn’s is stress-induced, which is quite stressful, actually. My body has worked out a system of turning stress into excruciating pain and, I gotta say, it has been less than chill to deal with. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t diagnosed until I was 18, and by that time it was too late for 11 inches of my intestine that had to be surgically removed. I thought I was all fixed up after that surgery and have learned since that Crohn’s will switch up where it attacks and it makes it hard to pinpoint each time it does that. 

I have just gotten past my most recent, gnarliest flare up that resulted in a fistula (fancy word for “hole”) in my lower intestine. I’ve never had that before and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone: especially me. I ate no food from the day before Thanksgiving until about 12 days later. I cried tears of joy upon eating and keeping down a cup of vanilla pudding. I had to come up with another reason why I was in such a good mood. 

Stress-induced illness has a knack for bad timing. I was unable to be a part of a comedy holiday album recording that I was honored to be asked to do. I also had to cancel a week of work in Denver, as well as make it nearly impossible to tape a half hour submission for the comedy big wigs. But I can’t stress about that unless I want a colostomy bag. 

I don’t normally talk about having Crohn’s on stage because I don’t want to be defined by a fucking disease, but now I’m thinking I could be the person to set people straight on what it is: a grown man who doesn’t shit his pants who is tougher than most and can probably beat up your dad. I’m not sure yet how much of a spokesperson I’ll actually be since I wouldn’t say anything about it if it wasn’t funny first. I just know that I’m over not bothering to go into it. 

With that said, consider this a warning: if you ask me about Crohn’s, I will tell you all about it. So if you wanna just say “hope yer doin ok,” just say that if you don’t have time for a detailed tour of my pain and misery :)

DIY Comedy and Touring

I just wrapped up a 14 city, 15 day DIY tour of all indie venues throughout the southeast called “The 3 Headed Moron Tour.” I did it with two of my favorite people/comedians, Dave Stone and Ryan Singer. It was some of the most fun I’ve had doing comedy, and only further solidified my faith in/love for the DIY comedy movement. 

(^Tour poster. Artwork by Dave Kloc)

I want to be clear and say that this isn’t some diatribe bashing comedy clubs. I love doing comedy clubs, and especially the ones that treat comedians right. I don’t believe in any alt vs. club type of bullshit. I will do and have done every type of room. I was in a pretty dark place when I started doing comedy, so honestly I love it all to a certain extent. Even the rough situations can be fun or enlightening, plus I had already hit much lower bottoms in life before I ever did stand up; so the worst is not unbearable to me.

Anyway, I think I love doing DIY tours and indie venues for the same reason that drew me to comedy in the first place: the bare bones aspect of it. In stand up, you are responsible for how good you are. You are the only one up there. You wrote the material. You deliver the material. You get the laughs, and you are the one who bombs. There are other factors outside of your control sometimes, but you know when you could’ve done better (almost always). I think of stand up as the comedy equivalent of freebasing. That bare bones-ness translates to DIY tours. When you book your own tour, you really learn from your mistakes because you feel them (hard). I know for a fact that setting up my own shows at independent venues has made me better at comedy, in both the artistic and business sense. 

(^me at JJ’s Bohemia in Chattanooga)

Artistically speaking, when you are in a non-comedy club setting, you have to learn how to get control of the show and command the audience’s attention. If you are performing at a dive bar and half-ass your way through a set, shit can get out of hand quick. You have to remain present and in the moment: no phoning it in. It doesn’t matter that you just pulled in after driving a bunch of hours and you feel out of it. There’s no choice but to suck it up. In a comedy club, it is understood what the people have come to see. If you bomb at a club, people will think “that comedian isn’t funny.” When you tank at a rock club, people think, “what the fuck is this, and why can’t I play the jukebox?” You have to bring a sense of professionalism while on stage just to make the crowd feel comfortable with listening and laughing. You gotta make them respect the show. Every laugh is earned. Momentum isn’t a given. It builds a different kind of chops all together. Also, the kind of material you’re doing is on you. There’s no excuse for not doing the kind of jokes you want to be doing. There’s no club owner telling you what does or doesn’t fly. You’re free to do whatever you think is best, and you can’t blame anyone else for what you decided to do. 

(^Ryan Singer at Blind Mule in Mobile, AL filling the crowd in on what’s goin on in the streets)

On the business side of things, you learn what it is to “tour.” How to route shit. How to talk to venue owners/bookers/comics producing shows. Understanding your value and how to tactfully negotiate. You become hyper-sensitive to vague language and get better at making sure that whatever deal you’ve worked out is crystal clear. Sometimes, you have to let someone know that they’re fuckin with the wrong bull, and sometimes you’re amazed that people will go out of their way to help you. You also figure out that there’s a difference between what you’re willing to do while emailing from a desk and what you can actually handle doing. It took a few years before I knew when to schedule an off day. As far as building a following goes, I always have more people coming back to see me at indie venues than in clubs in any town that I do regularly. It’s a more memorable experience for them than seeing that week’s headliner at the local comedy club. 

(Dave Stone on stage at Brookland Tavern in Colombia, SC)

I just think there’s no harm in being self sufficient. I have representation, and that can be a big help, but I’ll never have to rely on that completely or be stuck with a manager I don’t like for fear of not having one at all. 

This most recent tour was interesting to me because I got to team up with two comics I have a lot of respect for who are also good friends. They live on the other side of the country from me, so we don’t do many shows together on the regular. We all have gotten used to setting up our own tours where we headline and bring an opener, if possible. It was cool to see and talk to their fans who came to the show because of the last time they came through that town, and the people that came out to see me again were introduced to Ryan and Dave’s comedy. I never had to worry about having to dig out of someone else’s hole, and having to follow them kept me on my game. We were all aware of what material each other was working on and had daily joke machine sessions (our term for “workshop”). We all managed to hammer out some quality new stuff by the end of the tour, and we managed to get more people out than we anticipated. A great experience overall, and it reaffirmed my belief that the future of comedy will only have time for well-run independent shows and the clubs who are doing things the right way. 

(^Show at a yoga studio in St. Petersburg, FL)

Just because DIY stands for do it yourself, and literally anyone can throw together some stuff and call it a “tour,” I would strongly urge comics to not get ahead of where you’re at comedically and setup a poorly thought out “tour” where you’re in over your head skill-wise. You could do a straight door deal just about anywhere and go bomb around the country losing money to look like a bigger deal than you are on fb…but that’s not the best way to go about it, or even a reasonable way. Visit other scenes. Get to know the comics there. When you’re ready to be touring, people will let you know you should be. Don’t be a doofus and try to big time those comics from other places. That’s the first sign of a guy no one wants to deal with.

This was long, hope it helped someone. Below I have embedded a playlist of all the dumb promo videos Ryan, Dave, and I made for this tour. We kept a ridiculous storyline going that we were all in different vehicles the whole tour.

-Andy