A Big MonstEr Blog: On Criticism -- Well, Thanks for the Feedback?

"If everyone is thinking alike, then no one is really thinking"

As I stepped off the stage of my most recent performance (I just killed it, to be honest but not very modest), I felt pretty good. Among a variety of new wrinkles, I had experimented with an old story with a new cadence to my words, with a much slower delivery than usual, and a couple of different inflection points. And I worked in a pair of new facial expressions when I delivered the snappers. Bazinga, as Sheldon Cooper often says. Not that all my material is that aged and creaky. But I have been working this one bit for a long, long time. As with any good story, particularly a really funny one, it has staying and human interest power and it is a rich mine that begs to be dug deeper.

Visions of a big payday pirouetted in my mind. I was smiling. But my de facto stage manager gave me the "Duh" face. Which is always an occasion for serious concern. Well, 'sup bro? I thought that went pretty well, pretty funny, I ventured hesitantly, But okay what's the deal, what went wrong?

I suddenly remembered the officious music composer Tony Salieri's strongly negative and dour response at the German court to a brilliant live performance (in the film Amadeus) just played by Mozart. But what could be the problem?, the genius asks the poser. Salieri hems, haws, then says: 'Umm, let's see. Ahhh, too many notes!'

Such was the off-key feedback.

Antonio Salieri

What I was succinctly told was that while I came off pretty good overall my delivery had been too slow. With this person I usually choose not to get into a battle of wits because, all things considered, I typically come off like an unarmed competitor. Just to underscore my point though let me say that I disagreed with the feed loop and said so. But not with much conviction and energy. After a couple of hours, I concurred with the criticism even more. Of course, I had consciously planned to experiment with a slowed-down delivery during certain elements of my laugh a minute snapperfest. But no doubt I could step it up and likely will do that the next time around. If there is a next time, as the old saying goes.

Just to make my salient point more obvious, I admit that when it comes to giving and receiving constructive critical feedback, I am way, way better at giving than getting -- at no charge, naturally, mostly when nobody is asking for anything from me. Geez, since it's confession time, I'll say that I'm am chock full of opinions. I am tempted to say it's because everybody's a critic. But that's probably not true. Nevertheless, as some say about critics and others, I only play one on TV.

I suppose the main emphasis I want to get across is that I have come to believe that in a lot of cases, when others gripe, or complain, or come off like critics from left field, or get plain old snarky, I may have hit on something good. (Well, alright, it could be that the critics have a good insight now and then.) Workplace situations have taught me a few things over and over. Most groups of people, like co-workers on a staff, tend to go along to get along. Not rock the boat. Birds of a feather, they flock together. In the sharp words of someone far wiser than I'll ever be, this can be summed: so, if everybody is thinking alike, then nobody's really thinking.

What I need to do is take life more as it comes I suppose. That would involve backing off a little in my innermost thoughts (which never turn off) and moderating certain knee-jerk reactions -- such as thinking more deeply and appreciatively about what certain people have to say, or about how they do it, or what their contributions add up to. Despite the fact that I have never subscribed to this theory, this would entail clamming up more, listening a whole lot better, and seeking first to understand before trying to be understood, as Stephen Covey said.

That's it. I need a whole new viewpoint on giving and getting feedback. My presence and interactions should become more effacing. So, for now, since I cannot easily tell that zinger-packed, old story from earlier today, let me try to sign out on a different note -- using some newly pilfered material from the late, great Phyllis Diller. ('Cause she won't complain.)

"I am a bad driver. I am such a bad driver!"

From the audience members: How bad are you?

"I had a terrr-ible, horrr-able accident driving the other day. I had to make a quick call to 911. Fortunately my car was jammed into a phone booth at the time."

And: "My bad driving has led to important information. Like never and I mean nev-ver run into the lead car of a funeral procession. Man, I have never ever seen a group of people in such a BAD bad mood . . . (pause for the laugh) . . . And, then, when that stiff rolled out of the hearse . . "

Can't you just see her grasping her standard cigarette-holder prop (she never smoked in fact) and hear her laugh now? She'd throw her head back and go ah-ha-ha-ha-Hah! The thing is once she got rolling on stage in Vegas, then TV and movies, all kinds of people told PD over and over what would work, what wouldn't, what she needed to do better, and that stand up comedy was a male's game but not for middle-aged females. But Lady Diller stuck to her instincts. Like, the more contemporary Lady Gaga, PD laughed all the way to the bank.

Phyllis Diller

But seriously folks, that reminds me. People seem to love it when I get to the drunk ol' me jokes. Thank goodness for the gift of sobriety. My de facto's unbidden and current feedback is to cool it on these drinker's gag lines. Nope. Not ready yet. One yuk that I shamelessly swiped from Phyllis herself is this. (Well, okay, on second thought, maybe I'll cool some of it some day, bro.):

You know, I was a bad drunk. A really bad bad drunk.

Cue the audience: How bad were you?

Well I was prit-teee dang bad. But I only got drunk once. Unfortunately for me it was from October of 1987 . . . until September of 1999. (Pause for the slight pops of laughter.) Now for the big snapper: 'I was soooo bad a drunk that one day I cut my neck while shaving . . . and my eyes cleared up! Then my son's dog killed a bird and dragged its carcass into his house. My son sent me a picture on his phone. He said the bird looked better than I did! . . . A friend the other day started calling me Sasquatch. When I asked why, she pointed to my drink and then said 'Cause you're big, your brown and your hairy and nobody ever sees you anymore! . . . But seriously, friends, after drinking all day I once stumbled into a Pet Smart store by accident. The people in there tried to rescue me!

Now that's humor, no matter what your opinion tells you. Build a premise, then slowly unfold some zingers that relate to it. Cap the process off. -- Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba-Bam. Be sure to get the comic pacing right. Take your time, deliver the lines with proper rhythms. Some people are gonna eat it up, while some -- like Salieri -- aren't gonna like it much. Check the nonverbals out there. They'll probably get their feeback and sour reactions over to you in some quick way. Reminder: don't forget to collect your $$ check as you leave. You have probably earned it all and more.

But now it's your turn. Surely you have something to say back to me. As Shakespeare once noted, all the world's a stage and we are simply players. Play on. Ball's in your lap.