Rob Gilroy: Making A Stand #31

Do you know what? We don’t talk about you guys enough, do we? It seems like every time this weekly column comes round it’s all me, me, me.

Not wanting to reveal my true narcissistic self, I think we should probably talk a bit more about you lot. So…how are things? Yeah that’s great but guess what I’ve been doing this week! Go on; guess. I bet you can’t guess.

You’re not even trying to guess, are you?

Fine, well if you must know you big spoilsport, this week heralded my first ever stand-up comedy gig appearance as my new character; Rob Gilroy.

It’s not the most creative name, I’ll grant you that but it feels a bit closer to who I am. Because it is me.

It’s been a little while since I’ve talked about my attempts to tread the boards in my own shoes, as opposed to Jerry Bucham’s. Jerry’s my comedy character name by the way, I’m not wearing someone else’s plimsolls.

If you haven’t been following the column then, quite frankly, you have nothing but my contempt. But anyone who doesn’t know I’ve been doing Jerry Bucham for a couple of years now and I wanted to shake things up a bit, like Tom Cruise in that film where he makes cocktails a lot.

It’s something I’ve been toying with for the last few months and initially had intended to do back in September. However, due to one thing and another – mainly severe cowardice on my part – any attempt I made to book in a gig to try new stuff came to nothing.

Sometimes I didn’t feel I could justify doing a completely new act because I didn’t think it was fair on an audience who’ve paid to see it, but the main reason was because I hadn’t written anything. And that’s probably as good a reason as any to stop yourself getting up in front of people in the name of comedy.

I bet even David Cameron – as natural and charismatic as he is – prepares an incredible amount before any of his truly brilliant television appearances. I don’t know, though. Maybe he wings it.

Initially when it came to writing, it was something I felt I had to leave as long as possible. I even booked in a spot long before I’d put pen to paper.

My thinking behind this was – in my experience – nothing forces your creativity like a looming deadline. For a clear example please see the column you’re currently reading.

The problem with this approach is; you end up getting far too close to the deadline to write anything.

Case in point: I had every intention of doing a gig as myself last week however, sitting in the green room scribbling furiously on an old envelope seemed to be cutting it a little too fine. In the end I settled for this week – a Pukka pad in a Tesco car park a couple of hours before the gig.

I’ll be honest; it was a risk.

There is every possibility that what I scribbled down in a moment of blind panic would be utter faecal juice, a worry my girlfriend Lucy later admitted to having when I tried to explain my new set to her.

Writing the material was, initially, one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

I know comedians change and develop their voice over time, but the real worry was I didn’t even know where to start. I had no idea what I wanted to say or how I was intending to say it.

All I knew was I wanted to make people laugh.

I had toyed with so many different approaches, looking at other comics for inspiration – did I want to do political stuff, talking about important things? Did I want to do observational stuff that people could connect to? I spent weeks starting at the blank piece of paper with no clue what to write.

Eventually I decided I just needed to write something, anything. Even if it was rubbish and I looked back on later with nothing but regret and denial.

I’d become stuck worrying to much about how I was going to do it, what it would say about me and how I would say it.

In the end I realised the best thing to do was to make myself laugh. And that’s what I did. And so, in aforementioned Tesco car park I scribbled down my set in about 20 minutes.

Tuesday saw my first performance and I have to be honest, if it wasn’t for the fact I was wearing a new pair of slacks, I would have soiled them instantly.

The fear was something I hadn’t experienced with stand up for a long time. It was terrifying but fun; like play Russian roulette with a spud gun. And do you know what? It wasn’t a total disaster.

People laughed – which makes a change – and they seemed to enjoy it. And what’s more, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it so much I tried it again the following night at The Stand’s Red Raw.

So, now I’ve gone from having never done stand up as myself, to having done it twice in two days.

That’s pretty good going, if you ask me. And what’s more; it went well again!

Now I don’t want to come across as a boastful Brenda but it’s been incredibly refreshing to have an act that can at least be described as “consistent”. I’m not saying it’s perfect (it’s not) but I am saying I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed the feeling of walking on stage as myself and it feeling quite natural (despite having to practice my own accent before going on).

I didn’t have anything important to say or a style that was brain-meltingly original, I just tried to be funny. And it seemed to work.

I’ve spent too long analysing every thought I have to make sure I can justify it and for once I was just trying to make myself laugh.

“So what does this mean for you Rob?” I hear you asking in a tone that sounds sarcastic but I can tell is genuinely fuelled by your desire to know more. Well, who knows?

I am still going to carry on with Jerry Bucham, but I’m also going to start doing more gigs as myself.

I’m not stupid – I know I’ve only done two gigs and the potential for me to fall flat on my face is large but for now I’m just enjoying messing around with it. And I will continue to mess around with it until it becomes my full time commitment. Or someone asks me to stop. I’ll be honest – it could go either way.

So anyway, how are you guys…oh look at that; we’re out of time. Maybe later.

Rob can be seen next as part of Jolly Mixtures at the Hull Comedy Festival on 15 November and at their monthly Saltaire show on Thursday 21 November.