Steve Martin put out an album in 1979 entitled Comedy Is Not Pretty. More than 30 years later, the industry’s underpinnings haven’t gotten any prettier. But today, how does comedy play in San Diego—compared to the glitter of Los Angeles or other major cities? The author shares his own insights, and talks to funny guys Norm MacDonald, Russ T. Nailz, Chip Franklin, Dangerous Dick, Last Comic Standing winner Dat Phan and others about the agony and the ecstasy of crafting funny jokes.

The Comedy Store marquee.

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I grew up watching comedians. My parents couldn’t figure out why a 12-year-old was so excited to see David Brenner, Richard Belzer or Garry Shandling on Johnny Carson. I would watch rising comedic stars on HBO specials, and my parents would see them a month later at the Improv in Pacific Beach or The Comedy Store in La Jolla. They caught Sam Kinison there, Jerry Seinfeld, Brad Garrett and a few other big names. Those were the only two places that had comedians. You might occasionally get one at a restaurant called T.D. Hayes in Pacific Beach (in fact, Tim Reid of recorded his only live album there in 1976).

The Comedy Store is still in La Jolla.The Improv in Pacific Beach is now Moondoggies, and they still host comedians. You can see live comedy at the FleetWood and The Tipsy Cow (formerly The Bitter End), in the Gaslamp Quarter. On Adams Avenue, they host shows at Lestat’s and the Ken Club. There’s lots of comedy shows at Winston’s and Gallagher’s Pub in Ocean Beach; a few shows at U-31 on University; Riley’s in Point Loma; Café Libertalia and Twiggs in Hillcrest. Up north, you can find shows at Bar Leucadian, Belly Up Tavern and Hennessey’s in Carlsbad. Gallery 204 in Vista hosts some shows.

And two newer places specialize strictly in comedy shows. There’s The Comedy Palace on Clairemont Mesa Boulevard. They’ve been around for a few years now. There’s also the recently opened, than closed, and recently open again, Mad House Comedy Clubin Sorrento Valley.

My first few insights into comedians and bits they write came at a young age. I was a teenager, and my older brother was always growing weird beard-and-mustache combos. I once said to my Jewish grandmother, “He should do a Hitler mustache next.” As she was freaking out at the prospect, I went into this little bit that had just hit me. I said, “Ya know, Hitler ruined that mustache for everyone. You can’t grow one, or someone would think you’re a Nazi.”

The one thing I hate is watching a comedian bomb,” says Joe Charles, a local comedian who teaches comedy and has writing workshops, says. “When I bomb, I don’t mind as much. But watching someone bomb is painful. Comedians are generally smarter, but also more sensitive, than most people.”

Statistics say more people fear public speaking than death. It’s easy to understand why most can’t fathom doing stand-up, and they understand that bombing on stage would be the worst feeling in the world.

Last Comic Standing winner Dat Phan.

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Dat Phan, winner of NBC reality show Last Comic Standing says, “Two techniques can be used when bombing. There’s a counter-bombing technique. For example, if the joke sucked, you could say ‘You won’t be seeing that on The Tonight Show.’ You’re admitting it didn’t do well. Some people also segue into old material.”

“You will fail at some point in your life as a comedian,” says Phan. “It’s not like practicing a violin, where you can play a coffee shop and do well, and move up to a big concert hall and succeed. And if you messed up playing violin, it’s not like you face the rejection of the audience staring at you.”

“I’d rather go on first,” says Phan. “I started out 13 years ago at the open mic in La Jolla. Chris Rock would come down. He had just started blowing up big. He’d tell the person hosting that he was going to try new material and he’d be walking the audience [when people leave during your set]. And he did exactly that. He’d tank it for half an hour with newer material. I’ve said I’d rather go on before other comedians when everything’s still fresh. I sure wouldn’t have wanted to go on after him.”

“I’ve had people on Facebook say I was funnier than Dane Cook,” says Phan. “It’s weird comparing me to another comic, because we’re not similar. People all have their different tastes. I love Flight of the Conchords, but have met so many people that don’t care for them.”

Russ T. Nailz, the former 91X deejay who’s being doing comedy in San Diego longer than anyone, says: “I don’t care if people like other comics. Who they like gives me insight in to that person’s intelligence. If you like Dane Cook--yeah, you're an idiot. Dennis Miller? You read a paper every so often. Some people in this city don’t like me. They are too hung up on their own silly hang-ups. Too bad for them. There is a lot to laugh at in this city/world, if you look outside yourself. I am blessed with the gift of being funny. I want to share that talent with as many people as possible. Many people do not think I am funny. I do not care for them, either.”

I think funny is funny. Some people might prefer certain comedians over others. Some might not find anything “funny” about Andy Kaufman tricking the audience and pretending he doesn’t speak English. That can be subjective. Yet, everyone would agree that Bill Cosby is funny. And if you took some person that wasn’t a comedian, wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed—and you told them to write 10 minutes of material—everyone would agree they weren’t funny.

Norm MacDonald, who wrote for Roseanne and Saturday Night Live, agrees comedy isn’t subjective. “It is not. I may believe a painting of bulldogs playing poker is more pleasing to my eye than a Picasso masterpiece. But I would be wrong. The latter is better on all levels and my opinion is meaningless. When I began in comedy, I saw Sam Kinison walk rooms routinely. Then, when audiences were told he was good, they loved him. Either way, their opinions were moot. Sam was a genius when he walked small rooms and when he sold-out larger ones.”

I opened for Carrot Top at the Del Mar Fair and slayed that audience,” says former KGB and Free FM disc jockey Dangerous Dick, a regular at Winston’s and The Comedy Store. “I don’t hate all prop comedians. A lot of other comics put them, or high energy acts, down. It’s like you’re supposed to just stand there at the mic and not move. Comedians that do impressions or musical acts get put down by other comics. I jump around and move a lot, and I may get put down for that. I’m trying to make the crowd laugh, though.”

“It’s attitudes that make Los Angeles so difficult,” Dangerous Dick says. “You’re performing in front of L.A. comedians, and they don’t react at all. In San Diego, everyone loves to laugh. In L.A., they tend to develop jokes that will make other comedians laugh. In L.A., they will laugh when you had a joke that didn’t work.”

Live Comedy Live co-founder Chris Spicer.

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“It sucks doing stand-up in L.A.,” says Phan. “Anyone will tell you that. Lots of people waiting to be superstars, magicians and there’s a weird vibe in the crowd. They are jaded. When I lived there, I’d still come to San Diego to try new material. It’s a good gage; blue collar, white collar, people working 9 to 5. In San Diego, you have 80 comics. In L.A., there are about 8,000. And a good chunk of them aren’t comedians, but actors trying comedy.”

Phan’s a San Diego guy. “I lived here with my mom; I was homeless here. I went to junior high, high school and college here. And it’s a great place for comedy. You’re not dealing with nuanced actors that are competitive. I can even understand some of them resenting me. I won Last Comic Standing, and got cast in West Wing, a commercial, some TV shows. There are professional actors that spent years studying acting techniques, went to Juilliard…and I win a reality show and get to then play a communist on some TV show.”

R.J. Dharni, is a comedian from L.A. that now lives in San Diego: “The comedy scene here has the gift of being both small and large. You don’t have the over-saturation of comedians that you’d find in L.A. or New York. Yet it’s large enough to provide a decent handful of stages to allow a comedian to hone their craft…Los Angeles also has a lot of weirdos who aren’t comedians. They’re just trying to get famous and hog up stage-time from comedians that depend on it to develop.”

Dangerous Dick: “In L.A., I’ve seen homeless guys get up on stage. It’s crazy.”

Christian Spicer, a local attorney and co-founder of the Live Comedy Live show at the Ken Club says: “It’s better to develop in San Diego. I always say someone should be the king of their city, before they move up to L.A. You can get quality stage time, develop your voice, and have real people assessing your comedy. In the heyday of the ’70s, a lot of those comedians went to L.A.–Letterman, Leno–and they made it through the ranks. If someone offers you a sitcom, then go to L.A. I like the tight knit group here. Because we’re so close to L.A., there are a lot of rooms to play here. You get spoiled by it. I’ll play a place like Riley’s or Winston’s, going on at 6 p.m. on a Friday night, with only a few people because it’s so early. Tuesday nights at The Comedy Palace, new comedians come out, or older ones with new material. You can do things like that here.”

“I don’t do well in L.A. or New York,” says Nailz. “I’m funny, not cool. I entertain people of all walks of life. That’s the Vegas crowd. Vegas takes an entertainer, not a club comic. The little L.A. attitude does not fly there. It's not entertaining. It's attitude with a little material.”

“New York is really strong when you talk about cities and comedy,” says Dangerous Dick. “Montreal has festivals, as does Edinborough, Scotland. The comedy scenes are amazing there. It’s good in San Diego. I can get onstage seven days a week. There are two clubs, and lots of different places that do one-nighters. And a lot of funny comedians.”

Mike Vinn is a Marine from Chicago who’s stationed here and hitting the stages: “The weather here is beautiful. It’s a transplant city, too. Most people are here from somewhere else, so you get a big mix of different types of Americans. You’ll be talking to a group with one person from Boston and a girl from New York. The other guy at the table is from Oklahoma. If you go to Iowa, everyone is from Iowa...Not only that, but San Diego is laid back. People here are a little happier and more relaxed. They like to just come out and have fun. And it’s fun to combine the country crowd with the urban crowd, with the suburb crowd. You get to find out which jokes of yours work for everyone.”

Chip Franklin does the morning show on KOGO AM 600. He’s a stand-up comedian (and owned a comedy club in his hometown of Washington, D.C.) He says San Diego is like most places. “You have established venues like The Comedy Store, which rarely are the best places to go see cutting-edge humor. Now, that statement is open to wide interpretation. I’ve been doing stand-up since 1979, and I should be a whole lot better, richer and more famous. But at some point, you realize that as valuable a tool as comedy can be for revealing the human condition…sometimes all people want to hear is boobs and poop.”

Chip Franklin from KOGO AM 600.

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“I’ve done sets where I’m in a bar telling fart and dick jokes,” says Spicer. “They’ll laugh, and my soul dies a little. But you play to the kind of crowd it is, because you’re ultimately trying to entertain them.”

I ask a female comedian about the pros and cons of being a female, and worrying if the only other female comedian on the same bill might do similar jokes about child birth or menstruation. “It conjures up memories of Janeane Garofalo or some other ’90s train wreck who talked about menstruation,” says Nicole Scaglione. “I have yet to hear a woman I’ve performed with tell a joke about her period. Oh wait, I take that back. A woman recently told a joke about her size 14 maxi pads and how it was awkward at the drug store check-out. Twasn’t funny. That kind of humor worked when women didn’t know they could tell jokes about real life and not just about, well…being a woman.”

“I have experienced the creeper who creeps around after shows trying to tell you how great you are and wants to buy you a drink,” says Scaglione, “and wants to know what are you doing later; and again wants to tell you just how hilarious you were when you’re sure he heard zero of your jokes because it’s obvious he’s wasted. In my heart, I’d like to say that no one ever looks at me as some crazy stripper telling jokes.”

When I was working at Rock 102 (now Rock 105) in the early 1990s, I often brought comedians into our morning show. At the time, a promoter at Chillers (which became ‘Canes and is now the Wavehouse) was booking every big-name touring comedian. One was former child actor Marc Price, best known for playing Skippy on Family Ties. He asked if there was a street in town known for having prostitutes. I said, “Yeah, El Cajon Boulevard.” I saw him pull a pad out of his back pocket and write it down. Then he asked me if there was a place in San Diego known for its gay population. I told him Hillcrest. Again, he wrote it down. It wasn’t until his show that night that I realized he needed to know “El Cajon Boulevard” and “Hillcrest” for jokes he had.

SNL’s MacDonald says: “I do not custom comedy to any certain group or geography. If I’m talking about myself, I’m talking about everybody because I honestly see very few differences in people. I find them all to be exactly like me in every respect.”

Nailz: “I have written tons of material that is for locals only. Content for 91X for 10 years, local TV programs and news, along with business dinners and roasts. Tons of local current event stuff...‘I bought a house in Coronado for $100,000. Well, it's a toll booth but they're not using it any more.’…‘I live in Pacific Beach but grew up back east. And a pretty tough part of La Mesa.’…With adjustments the local inspired jokes can work elsewhere. Some play well in other cities: ‘They say we have bad drivers in San Diego. You can't blame them. All the street signs are in English.’”

Franklin has performed in almost every state in the U.S. “My material is pretty generic. I always hated writing dated or geographic pieces because I’m too lazy, although I have written some for the radio; usually on the fly. I might say ‘Betting on SDSU is hard. Not on the outcome, but the number of athletic directors.’”

“The San Diego comedy scene is small, but it seems to be growing every day,” says Mal Hall. “I see new faces at open mics around town on a consistent basis. The scene is definitely small as far as clubs are concerned, but there are a number of alternative comedy rooms that put on great shows that are worth seeing. I like the San Diego scene because it’s small and supportive. It’s an awesome place to grow as a comic because there isn’t necessarily a strong industry presence and audiences come to shows to have fun, not to fold their arms and judge.”

Mal Hall performing onstage.

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Hall does a bit about the D’Lush place in Fashion Valley. Their employees stand outside pushing their products. “Well, that particular bit is a joke about smoothie shops,” he says. “So when I do that bit in other cities I can change the setup to something like ‘When did smoothie shops become so intrusive?’ Or, ‘Is it me, or are free sample guys getting a little bit pushy?’I think most jokes like that start out talking about specific places, but the general premise can be boiled down to one that is general enough to use elsewhere.”

Franklin has a story about a comedy legend. “Back in the early '80s, I got this gig warming up the crowd for a TV show. The talent for the show was Steve Allen and an unknown comedian named Joy Behar. There were technical problems, so my 20 minute gig ended up taking about 90 minutes. To say I was struggling was an understatement. Backstage, Allen was fuming. Not because the whole thing inconvenienced him, but he was feeling for me. So halfway through a lame bit, he comes out, puts his arm around me, and tells the audience what a great job I’m doing. He went backstage and wrote a part for me in the TV show, guaranteeing I’d get paid. But the best part was that he got my address from the agency and sent me a letter about how great I was and how I could use him as a reference. Now, here’s the unbelievable part. Thirteen years later, just a few years before he died, I approached him at a venue in L.A. I went up to him and reminded him of the story and he stopped me mid-sentence. ‘Chip, right?’ Amazing man.”

What about hecklers? Spicer: “I have a few responses. One is where I say ‘If you open your mouth again, I’m going to put my penis in it.’ If they talk again, I say I can’t understand them [and it gets really graphic]. That usually works.”

“The weirdest thing is…they think they’re helping you out,” says Charles. “They’ll come up after the show and say ‘I was the guy that yelled that out. I helped you out man.” And they want me to high five them.”

“Stairway to Heaven is a great song,” says Charles, “and you wouldn’t mind hearing Zeppelin do that even though you’ve heard it thousands of times. Comedians don’t have that luxury. People want us to have new routines all the time. I might have some great joke, but that took me years to develop. That’s how I know it’s funny. I can’t just come up with another great bit for the next week.”

Can people teach others to be funny? R.J. Dharni isn’t so sure. “Most believe that you can’t teach funny and I agree with them for the most part. I think funny is inherent.However, I also feel to get the most out of a talent, you need to cultivate and hone it.Classes are a great way to do that.I studied improvisational comedy at National Comedy Theater here in San Diego as well as at Improv Olympic in LA and Impatient Theater in Toronto.I also took a comedy writing course at UCSD.Most of the people in those classes, including myself, already had a strong interest in comedy before beginning the class.I remember there was always one or two people who really didn’t have one funny bone in their body and it showed.

“The writing classes didn’t really help me,” says Scaglione. “The improv classes didn’t, either. What helps me is performing. The instruction I need is from the audience. Watching other comedians is incredibly important, too. I followed a comedian boyfriend of mine around venues all over Michigan for years before I tried stand-up. I learned about the importance of knowing your audience, being authentic, and having great energy on stage just from watching him develop and change. You don’t know until you try.

Charles teaches comedy classes. “No, I can’t just make people funny. I take what you have. That’s the best I can do for you. It’s like a pile of clay that I’ll help sculpt into a good routine, and give them a basic foundation. There are things I can show them like segues, tricks of the trade…mistakes I made my first five years doing comedy.”

Joe Charles teaches comedy classes.

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Nailz: “I can not tell anyone how I write jokes. I do it and I do it all the time. Can't teach it and never want to. Comedy is whatever happens right before you laugh. Don't over think this. Most people could never do what I do…I have been given a talent and developed it. It’s my passion to make people happy. When I make an audience crack up I will always focus on the one person in the crowd that is not laughing. Even if I don't make you laugh, I have made others in your world less sad, less angry or just feel good for a while. Am I really that bad? No. Stop taking yourself so seriously. Comedy is based on fact. Sometimes I hit too close to the bone. Liberals hate facts and me for pointing them out. Too bad for them. I have related to the majority of the people in the country, the silent majority. I have done it 30 years and I will always be funny. God blessed me with a sense of humor. Thank God. I would be lost without this gift.”

Charles: “When I was a kid I smoked a lot of pot. I have a good story about it, but if I’m doing a military gig I won’t use that.”

Charles, again:“I played a hospital gig where a man was sleeping and snoring loudly, another was on oxygen and that was loud. Another guy had this bandage that was all crazy. One man threw up on himself…and I obviously couldn’t joke about any of these things.”

“Lestat’s and Winston’s have really starting doing a lot of shows lately, says Dangerous Dick. “It’s a cheap way to have entertainment. You just need a spotlight and a microphone. A band has to bring in all that equipment.”

“The venue you play does make a difference,” says Charles. “You wouldn’t want to play a place in Texas, where Bush was born and raised, and talk about how great Obama is. You’ll get some boos.”

“I opened for The Ramones and those guys were so cool,” says Franklin. “After the show, the road manager, who was a big comedy fan, said I could continue to open for them if I dropped some of the hack material. Joey [Ramone] was in the room and the three of us worked on my set. Surreal. We actually wrote this joke together: ‘My grandmother just died. She was 92, and at the end, it was very hard. She actually asked me to help her commit suicide. At least, I think that’s what she said.’”

“You don’t do this for the money, but the love of doing it,” says Charles. “Some clubs are classy and pay you. Some of them you might work for a few drinks and some food. If you’re just starting out, you’d be thrilled being paid in beer. The classier clubs pay you, but you’re paying for the food you get there. Another place might pay you $25. And, a lot of things depend on what is going on. Are you headlining, are you also emcee-ing? I’ve done corporate gigs where I end up being the emcee, and I’m judging a hula hoop contest.”

Dangerous Dick is always traveling between San Diego and L.A. “It’s very difficult to make any money. You can do a whole trip and just break even.”

Phan: “Comedians have to go on the road. Some hate it. I love San Diego. Performing here, the weather…it’s hard to do the road, landing in some airport in blizzard land. That sucks to me…It makes sense for a famous comedian to move to L.A. You can make some money on the road, but it makes most comics that aren’t the headliners, bitter.”

Dharni and Spicer’s Live Comedy Live is one of the few comedy events in town that pays comedians. Dharni says, “Our goal isn’t to make a living off these shows. We made the promise that all of our comics will be paid, even the openers.The headliner takes the lion’s share.After that, we cover our costs.Whatever’s left, we divide equally amongst all the remaining comics.Right now it's not much. At least it's a symbolic statement that we value talent and hard work.”

“Comedy is hard,” says Franklin. “But when it’s done bravely, it’s as pure an art form as any.”