All posts tagged: Comedy

Fvmbe Humor: Honoring My Ancestors with Belly Laughs

In my culture — the Mvskoke (Creek) tribe — humor is a constant. There’s even a certain genre of humor which one of our scholars, Craig Womack, termed “fvmbe humor.” (In Creek, “v” is pronounced like a “u.”) “Fvmbe” means “stink,” and “fvmbe humor” often has to do with the body, though it’s not crass. It is difficult to translate, but we’ve kept the word despite the government’s many attempts to take away our language and culture. Laughing at certain things is almost a marker of belonging. But another marker of belonging is knowing when not to laugh, when not to let suppressed giggles burst out at the wrong time. Especially, in church. My family attends a Mvskoke Baptist church. As is custom in our tribe’s churches, the church house is in the center, and it is surrounded by family “camphouses” — small houses which are usually just a dining room, kitchen, and seating area. Some have a bedroom because some people stay at church from Saturday evening to Sunday night. All of us stay …

My Proof God Wants Us to Keep Laughing

When I was a kid attending church with my family, the worst offense we could commit was to laugh in the middle of the service. Which is why my siblings and I regularly prodded each other into laughter so forceful that it seemed to emit from our mouths, noses and ears. My brother and sister and I were regularly reshuffled to opposite ends of the pews by parental glares set to “SALT PILLAR” until the moment Miss Smith arose and called the kids to follow her out for Sunday School. The lesson was driven home at an early age: God and humor do not mix. So I was so delighted, as an adult, to find a church in my adopted hometown in NorCal where a) our priest is an accomplished stilt walker and never misses a chance to explain a parable from ten feet overhead; b) the send-off gift to newly ordained seminarians as they head to their first big jobs is a flaming Bible (to be used ironically, of course); and c) when a …

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Improv and Ageism is No Laughing Matter

I’m a lifetime comedy nerd. The kind of middle school girl who knew every line to Steve Martin albums and the 2,000-year-old man routines, adored Robin Williams and had a subscription to Mad magazine. As an adult, I worship professionally funny people, especially women. Sometimes, even I’m funny. For years I’d been pondering the idea of an improv class. I wanted to do something separate from the routine of my real life of being a mom, being a wife, having a full-time job and working monthly shifts at the Park Slope Food Coop. I started investigating classes, in particular the eight-week Improv 101 at the legendary Upright Citizens Brigade training center. Some of my favorite comedians had honed their craft there — not to mention that Amy Poehler is one of the founders. Initially, I only shared my desire with the least judgmental person I know, my therapist. She was very encouraging and helped me finally work up the courage to tell my husband and a select group of friends.  I imagined a range of negative reactions that included …

F#$@ It. Why I Love to Use Dirty Words.

It was my use and vast knowledge of colorful language that led a former boss (now friend) to nickname me “TSJ” — aka Truck Stop Jody. As in, curses like a trucker. He told me that I introduced him to some words and phrases he’d never heard before, and wouldn’t dare utter in front of most people and all women. Except me. I’ve been experimenting with sailor-style language since elementary school. Even back then, I tested out a few gems on my dad (not yet knowing how offensive they really were, or how to use them appropriately, with fervor and panache). Me: “These pants are green. They’re horny!” Dad: “Never say that word. Who taught you that word? That’s not what it means.” Dad was not into dirty words. “Damn” was not allowed. Hell, “fart” wasn’t even allowed. We had to say we “beeped.” Early on, I think the excitement of cursing appealed to me. I got immediate attention, even though it wasn’t always positive. Back then, ANY attention was good. Both at home and …