Retiring the bit

When it comes to comedy, there's been no shortage of male/female teams.

Nicols and May. Stiller and Meara. Lucy and Desi. Sid and Imogene. Burns and Allen.

Each of them has a famous bit, a signature routine that always kills when they perform it.

My wife and I know the feeling.

We happen to have a few comedy stylings of our own. And while our teaming isn't nearly as famous as some of those others, hilarity still ensues when the occasion calls for it, and we decide to bring the funny. It's safe to say our most popular bit by far is "The Wedding Guests."

If you haven't caught our act at any nuptials lately, here's how it plays. When the requisite wedding videographer finally wanders over to us to record a comment for posterity about the bride and groom, or the DJ starts passing around the mic for a toast, we launch into it.

The premise is that we stumbled into the wedding by accident, get the bride and groom's name wrong, and then the wife corrects me.

Let's for arguments sake say the couple's real names are Bob and Susan. It would go a little something like this:

ME: We actually don't know anyone here. We were driving down (name of street the wedding venue is on) looking for the Boot Barn, when we heard this music coming out of here. So we came in, and it was great cause there was all this free food. But, as long as we're here, we'd like to give our best wishes and congratulations to Steven and Christina...

(The wife taps me on the shoulder, pulls me aside and whispers something in my ear)

ME:...I mean Bob and Susan, for a long, loving happy marriage.

And end scene.

It always gets a laugh from the crowd. And the fact that they've probably had a few champagne toasts before they get to us doesn't hurt. But still, funny is funny.

Well, it is right up until the couple thinks you've actually forgotten their real names. Then, not so funny. I have a sneaking suspicion that's what may have happened at our latest performance.

It's never happened before, and actually it never occurred to us that it could. But the last thing we'd ever want to do is add additional stress to what should otherwise be the best day of their lives.

We apologized right after in case they thought we really got it wrong. But let me apologize again. Here. Worldwide. (I don't know if the comedy will translate to the many countries who read this blog, but humor is the universal language. Right after money, prestige and oil).

Anyway, to avoid any future misunderstandings, the wife and I have made the decision to retire the bit. From now on, when we go to weddings and are asked to say a little something for or about the bride and groom, that's just what we'll do. And we'll use their correct names the first time out to make sure they know that we know exactly who they are.

Besides, if I'm going for laughs, I can always do the scene from The Graduate at the ceremony.

A cautionary tail

I worked with this art director once. He'd been a friend for years, but was also the most ambitious person I'd ever known. At the expense of anyone and anything - including his friends - he put his ambition above everything else.

And while usually anything starting with "naked" is something you want to see, when the next word is ambition it isn't very pretty. It doesn't always work in your favor.

For example, not too long ago I was in an interesting position. For several reasons, a leadership vacuum had been created where I was working. In spite of it, the team pulled together to make sure everything got done and nothing fell between the cracks. Everyone on the team was freelance, including the last person in who was a junior art director of debatable talent.

The debate wasn't how much, it was if he had any at all.

But even though he was a junior, he had big plans. He taught us all that apparently there is an "I" in team, because one Friday he scurried in to the head of marketing's office, and without telling the rest of the team who'd been there considerably longer, and worked considerably harder, presented a plan for a huge project that the team was supposed to meet about and work on together. He said he wanted to be the point person on it, and in what can only be described as a complete lack of judgment, if not consciousness, the head of marketing said okay.

I suppose there are two ways to look at the situation. One is you could admire the fact this junior art director saw an opportunity to advance and took it, consequences be damned.

The other way - the way I see it - is that this under-qualified, universally disliked and obnoxious little twerp basically betrayed everyone he worked with for his personal gain, without having thought through the fact no one else on the team would lift a finger to execute whatever alleged vision he had for the project.

When the team refused to work with him, it reminded me of that scene in The Right Stuff. He wanted to do it by himself. We were happy to oblige.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of us also went into the head of marketing's office and gave our point of view on the art director, his vision, and his lack of ability and talent to execute it - and made sure he was clear on the fact that the art director would not be receiving any help from us.

Interestingly enough, the following day was this art director's last. And the team carried out the project - with our original idea of how it should work as well as a brutal deadline - without a hitch.

I'll be the very first to admit I've always had a healthy disdain for the phrase "team player."

Imagine my surprise to find out I've been one the whole time.