My husband is an extremely funny person. His wit is lightning-fast, his lexicon is vast, his energy is comfortable and comforting if he's on your side and devastating if he's not, and he deconstructs everything he hears and mines it for comic potential with complete ease. His humor isn't the kind that makes you tired, except possibly from laughing until you cry. He's hilarious. Only the best will do for me, in other words.
He spent a good part of this past weekend performing in the streets with me, and he paid me this compliment today in an email:
"I keep thinking about how awesome you are with the audience. You are extremely rare in your abilities with the crowd. Your sense of comic timing is astounding! And so is your ability to read people and groups. You know exactly what to say and how to react. I am in awe of how skilled you really are! I think I get to see more of the self-deprecating A-E and less of the skilled professional improv artist that you are, which makes those "Jane" moments so impactful!"
My face, it hurts from the smiling. Good, good Tom, and good Tom-Phoolery.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment