Benjamin Booker on the power of laughter

My father grew up in some of America’s hardest cities in the 60s and 70s. He told me stories about attending segregated schools, living in D.C. the year Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, and risking physical violence crossing neighbourhood lines. When I told him I was moving to L.A., his first response was, “I remember getting shot at in Watts,” followed by a nonchalant, “tough city.” He joined the Navy when he was 17 years-old and didn’t look back.

I see more similarities every year.

My strongest memories of my father are in cars. There was a beat up Yugo, an O.J. Simpson-era Bronco and eventually a Camero. Riding with him was special. This was our time.

My home life was strict and my mother made sure we were in church as much as possible. But, there was an occasional escape when it was time to drive somewhere with my father. He’d put on comedy albums.

He introduced me early on to comedians like Richard Pryor, Bernie Mac and Robin Harris. Some of the comedy albums were absolutely filthy and all seemed brutally honest. We’d sit quietly listening as we drove, never acknowledging the risque topics. For a long time, I didn’t understand why he did this.

When I look back on it now, I think he was trying to teach me. I think that he used comedy to expose me to the world through someone else and through language that he couldn’t use at home. I also think he wanted to show me the power of laughter and that it was always possible to laugh myself out of whatever tough situation I encountered.

This is where my love of comedy began.

In recent years, comedy has taken on another role for me. It has helped me to become a better musician.

When I was working for a nonprofit out of college I would spend a few days a week in the office listening to comedy podcasts like WTF with Marc Maron and You Made It Weird with Pete Holmes for 8 hours a day as I worked. These podcasts feature interviews with a comedian talking to other comedians about their work. I became obsessed with the craft of comedy and the way that comedians saw themselves in the world.

I think many comedians see comedy as a calling and almost look at themselves as monk-like figures. They KNOW the road to even being a decent comedian is going to be excruciating but keep pushing to try to get to the other side. I’ve heard several comedians say it takes about 10 years to be a good comedian. 10 years!

Comedy is more to them than entertainment. They are doing people a service. Laughter is good for the soul and at the same time, they are trying to help people to reevaluate the world around them and look at it from different angles.

Art is worth sacrifice. Failure is to be expected and even embraced. These are ideas that guide the lives of some of the best comedians and have become ideas that I’ve applied to my own work.

I think comedy has made me a more fearless musician and performer. It has also helped me to understand that as an artist I am on a journey and I have to keep pushing myself. It’s not going to be easy, but there might be a superpower waiting for me down the road.