Tag: Comedy

Where there is anger, there can be great comedy, but first you need to face the pain.

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I’ve come to the conclusion that life will make a woman out of me yet, just not today.

Today my inner-child is engaged in the dialog. She likes to show up from time to time when she wants to teach me something. Now that I am in comedy, she and I have become quite close.

At the advice of some close comic friends, I’ve started mining the fertile soil of my past and my inner psyche for material. The only way I can safely travel through those ancient fields is if I take her along. I need to see through both the detached eyes of an adult as well as hers. She keeps me honest and she keeps me from putting myself down on stage.

For instance, I once wrote a joke about being “the fat chick with self-esteem issues” and that one never made the stage. She didn’t like it at all. And she’s back, this time as my genus as we walk through some hard topics like  affairs, abuse, alcoholism, marriage, and self-esteem.

Sometimes I go through dark hallways when I write, even if I’m writing comedy. I find recesses in my own spirit that are wilted and it takes a bit of a journey before I get the water and light needed to bring balance back.

Sometimes I don’t realize I’m in a tunnel until I start getting emails and questions about my Facebook sharing. My humor get’s dark in tunnels. Without thinking I have (in a week’s time) changed my cover pic to I’m with Stupid (A brain pointing to a heart) and shared memes that are along the lines of “don’t cheat, leave if it’s that bad” and “do I smother them or make pancakes?” and people are starting to ask if my husband and I are okay — oops..

My husband and are FINE, thank you for asking. I’m just focusing on a hard chapter and I’m still unsure on the direction to take. I am presently working on a comedy set about cheating and low, the topic of the week at least in my internet “world” is cheating as well. Or maybe I’m just noticing it because of where my focus is these days. It seems like so many people are talking about it. Some are doing it. Other’s are posting meme’s against it. Other’s are getting divorced because of it and I feel like a voyeur most days.

A few weeks ago I heard a radio show justifying cheating, and this week I discovered that MTV has a man show that teaches guys how to cheat without getting caught. I can’t tell if it’s meant to be a comedy show or just pure crap. Or maybe it’s both, who knows.  My skull finally exploded this week and it’s taken me a while to figure out why I’m so angry.

“What anger’s us in another person is more often than not, an unhealed aspect in ourselves. If we had already resolved that particular issue, we would not be irritated by it’s reflection back at us.” — Simon Fuller

Like it or not, there are victims in this equation. I know what cheating does to people. I’ve spent a lifetime cleaning up that wreckage and there’s some healing left to do. I have kinda strange boundary issues because of it as well. I can find the funny, if I allow myself the healing I need. No healing, no funny. That’s just how it works.

I don’t know of many things that can confuse a person more than growing up with a revolving door of parental partners. I’ve honestly lost count at the number of men and women who entered and left my life. It started long before my parent’s divorce and never really ended until recently.

Potential partners trying to win me over in order to win over the parent they want to have sex with is confusing as well as frustrating to a child. I always saw right through it and I learned how to play the game. I figured out pretty quickly that men  and women alike were willing to drop big bucks on me if needed. I hate to admit this, but I’ve racked up trips to California, Disney World, Detroit Tiger’s ball games, designer clothes, college books, shoes, and many other things. I knew what they were doing, and I played along to my profit as well as their gain.

Of course, I always had questions.

Will I get a new Dad?

Is this my new Mom?

How attached do I get?

How long are they here for?

Will they stay?

None of them ever stayed and so it’s just a matter of time before the questions became “When will they leave?” and “Is it my fault they are gone?” No wonder I have trust issues.

Mining comedy doesn’t always start in shallow waters. Good comedy goes beyond knock knock jokes and puns and searches for that diamond in the rough — that redeemable moment of vulnerability and truth. Depths and layers are explored. It’s a painful process at times. Writing comedy allows me to explore the layers of my life and of society, allowing me to be vulnerable and not only face myself and my past, but to embrace the future as well.

Good comedy has an obligation to take you past the comfortable and expand your mind, but first it sometimes breaks a writer’s heart. All in a day’s work.

Friday Funny: At the Doctor (PG-13)

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I just found out that my gynecologist is hard of hearing.

All these years and I never knew that.

It’s okay though.

Turns out, he can read lips.

Friday Funny: Plunger on my Hip

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cartoonmeYesterday was my last day for physical therapy. My PT showed me how to use a kitchen plunger to break up scar tissue on my left hip and told me to try it at home. That was not a good idea.
1. I’m ADD

2. Plungers leave hickeys

3. They also stick really well.

I’m a married woman covered in hickeys with a plunger stuck to my left hip. I am not long for this world.

Friday Funny: Why My Husband Has Migraines

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Him: Deana, why do you like muscle cars so much?

Me: Dukes of Hazzard, duhn!

He pinches the bridge of his nose so hard after asking me questions like that, he gives himself a migraine. You’d think he’d learn by now.

Friday Funny: The Next Time You are Asked to Play For Free

Deana4 Comments

Going around Face Book.

By Popular Request: I’d Rather Have a Root Canal

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I have given up all hope of convincing people I really am sane.

I have two stories requested the most, Fisher’s Of Men, and this one.

And I wonder why people think I’m neurotic.

I would rather have a root canal than go to the gynecologist:

  1. I get to keep my clothes on.
  2. I can watch TV
  3. The dentist has better drugs.

Not that I don’t like my doctors I do. I just don’t like being there. I am a social bug, yes. A social bug who likes to stay fully dressed. I’d rather host one huge barbecue in my back yard, have them all come over, serve beer and brats and call it good until next year.

I realize I should put on my big girl panties and deal with it, and I would if they let me keep them on, but they don’t. Let’s face it, we will burn our bras in public, let our bra straps show in the summer, even throw our panties on stage at a rock concert, but the minute we undress in the doctor’s office we hide our underwear. Why? Because we want to keep that Victoria a secret, that’s why.

I do not know a living soul who wakes up and says “oh boy I get to go for my Pap Smear (or colonoscopy or mammogram) today. Hurray!” No one in their right mind thinks that. To make matters worse, I am a redhead and I blush when people say hello, add naked to the equation and I look like I fell asleep in a tanning bed. Even if the doctor are brilliant, the office is clean and efficient and the staff is super nice, we’d still rather be elsewhere.  This is the one place where wham-bam-thank you ma’am could be deemed acceptable. Unless of course something is wrong and we wish to dialog. Then we want them to listen and take their time.

Some doctors like  to converse during exams.  It’s their way of gauging our emotional state as well as trying to put us at ease; only it doesn’t work does it? Whilst I am normally fond of warm, intelligent conversation, their conversational style can seriously mess with my dis-associative groove. I’d rather close my eyes and run my to do list through my brain than make eye contact while pretending I can follow our conversation.

And yet, we talk. Or rather they talk. I ramble incessantly about God knows what. My neurosis factor increases exponentially with the realization that well… I am at my gynecologists office. My brain is so deep in denial that when they ask which doctor I am seeing, I can never remember his name.

To call me an introvert would be a kindness.

To be expected to carry on a full conversation with a doctor, complete with eye contact, while sitting naked on a table, holding my gown closed with my hands, needs more Valium than their office is willing to provide. Personally, I am all for sedation gynecology.  Knock me out and wake me when it’s over.  It’s not like it’s a new thing my dentist offers sedation dentistry, it could happen.

Left without the comfort of clothing, or drugs, I grab the only shield I can reach – my gift of sarcasm.

  • You want to screen me for colon cancer? – That’s gonna cost you a roofie.
  • When was my last breast exam? Last year. I always fail those even though I cram all year for them.
  • Every day I gather up the twins and cram them into a wonder bra.
  • Raising teenagers feels like I’m walking a high wire, I need all the support I can get.
  • Do you know why they call them wonder bras? Because without it we spend our day wondering where our breasts went.
  • I know where mine went, they are hiding in my arm pits, they don’t want to be here either.

They’ve added a new trick to their trade by the way — a two for one deal really, you can now get checked for cervical cancer and colon cancer all in one visit. REALLY? Now I know why my dogs hate going to the vet.

Not only are the new tests rude, some doctors talk  more during our exams than our husbands do during sex. Why can’t they all be Woody Allen?

Some days going to the doctor is more than a girl can handle. Granted after dealing with me, I’m pretty sure it’s my doctors who need Valium.

Have a great week everyone and remember you are amazing! Nobody can take that away from you.

Fully Alive Coming to a Theater Near You.

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"Fully Alive is the opposite of partly alive and a wonderful alternative to totally dead!" - Ken Davis CLICK PHOTO TO FIND A THEATER NEAR YOU.

Where are you in life right now? Are you Fully Alive or semi-conscious? Or are you where I was nine years ago – mostly dead?

Some of you may wonder, what in heaven’s name would prompt a 46-year-old women to start riding a bicycle, do stand up, audition for movies, and write a book. That’s easy. It isn’t a midlife crisis.

These changes in my life are brought to you by Grief. Failure. and Grace.

Never in my wildest imagination did I think God would have more in store for me than PTA, Bible Study and Carpool. There was a time when my life could be described as super busy and super disconnected, whether I wanted to admit that or not. Fortunately for me, I’ve met wonderful people over the last nine years – Ken Davis is such a person.

I wanted to learn how the be a better teacher and speaker. Pursuant to those goals, I signed up for Ken’s classes on communication and performance management. Through his stories, blogs, and classes he has shared this journey to becoming Fully Alive with all of us, step by step and mile by mile. I received far more than I bargained for when I went to his seminars.

Before she passed away last fall, my friend Tiffany used to say that between her anxiety and control issues, she was pretty much a hot mess of crazy. I can relate. Hanging with comedians has changed me in great ways. Instead of just learning a craft, I’m learning how to lighten up and live Fully Alive. I owe these men and women a lot.

Fully Alive is Ken’s newest comedy DVD. This is a movie you can watch with your friends and family. It is hilarious, inspirational, life changing and not to be missed by anyone.

Edited: April , 2012 – while the Movie Fully Alive was a special showing only on March 22 and 23 – see kendavis.com to find out more about this wonderful DVD.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. No goods or services were given in exchange for this endorsement. I only share resources I believe my readers will enjoy as much as I do. 

Heading for Yukon Oklahoma!

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Me with Michele VanDusen at Yukon Community Theater in 2010

Okay so it’s a little blurry but this photo is from last year’s A Funny Thing comedy night in Yukon Oklahoma. Michele and I were part of a comedy competition last year and have been asked to come back again this year. I am so stoked! Michele placed and while I did not — I’m going for it this year.

I’m new to the comedy circuit and while I felt weird starting stand up in my 40’s I’ve since discovered that I’m by no means the youngest newcomer. I met a gal in her 60’s this week starting comedy and I think that’s awesome.

I got into stand up as a way to overcome stage fright. I’ve been MCing various charity events over the years and struggle when the crowds reach over 50 people. Since doing stand up I can now speak comfortably in crowds much larger than that.

Learning stand up has made me a better speaker, a better writer, and just a lot more fun. Unless I’m trying to take your emotional temperature to assess whether or not I can joke with you, then I’m a neurotic mess. Fortunately those times are few and far between. Stand up has also given me a healthy outlet for my warped sense of humor which is definitely a good thing.

There was a time when telling jokes would terrify me and through practice, patience, time and friends who believe in me, I’ve over come that.

What fears have you faced down in your life? I’d love to hear from you.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. September 15 2011. All rights reserved.

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day y’all: Anita Renfroe In Tha Muthahood

Deana6 Comments

Can I be her when I grow up?

Probably not, I make a better me than I do anyone else.

Having said that – I do love this gal’s talent.

Christian Comedian and everyone’s favorite Mom, Anita Renfroe, has done it again. You may know her from Momsense (Everything a mother would say in 24 hours set to the William Tell Overture) , Good Morning America, Women of Faith, or even the Kraft Food Commercials and I’d like to share with you her latest salute to moms called “In Tha Muthahood.”

I absolutely LOVE this and want to share it with you guys.

Please enjoy.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart, 2011. All rights reserved. Please note that no goods or services were given in exchange for this endorsement. I only share resources that I find encouraging.

Show the love. If you like this post, please click one of the buttons below and share it with your friends on Facebook, Twitter, Stumble or Digg okay. Thanks!

Never Skip Church to Write Comedy: Just Sayin’

Deana8 Comments

(Added 1/3/11 – Not that I’m neurotic or anything – okay, I am, but that isn’t the point. – While I’m happy you are here – please note that this post is just an off-center offering regarding a glimpse at my strange mind — it’s not about Jim so if you are looking for him – check his web page at www.jimbelushi.ws – really – you will be glad you did. That is the only official page for Jim Belushi – according to his webmaster, Jim is not on Facebook. Correction: Jim is now on Facebook according to his webmaster and you can find it HERE.) – 9/13 Oh and TY Google for screwing up your “tidbits” and making people think  I said THIS (as in my blog) is his page when I said the ws page was.  Okay back to our regularly scheduled post.

I had a dream the other day that I was married to Jim Belushi and I am beside myself over the irony.

It was your typical Sunday afternoon. The guys are watching football on the big screen and I am up in our room writing comedy on my lap top. I am on fire, writing great bits of wit and wisdom.  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, I am no longer in my room but on a sound stage. I look at my teenage son and notice he’s written the letters U and F on his front teeth — he had apparently looked in a mirror while writing his message to the world with a sharpie. Dad (Played by Jim Belushi) enters the kitchen scene and we argue over our son’s newest stunt. I point out that every time he smiles he’s really telling us something obscene, even if it is dyslexic. Dad scratches his head and acts oblivious, I call him a moron – enter canned laughter and I exit the scene.

Off set I place my hand on my chest and proclaim to myself “Yes! I so totally rock as a comedic actress.” Looking back I see a look of shock on Jim’s face. A heaviness settles in my heart and before I can shake it, the scene goes black.

SCENE TWO:

I am in my real bedroom sorting and tossing monstrously huge broken bottles of  conditioner into a trash bag on my bed. My heart is heavy and I am feeling more insecure than I’ve felt in ages, which is saying a lot really. I’m speaking with a brunette mother figure and simply ask her to go get Jim for me, I want to speak to him.

This scene is different, it’s not a set. My confidence is gone and each bottle of hair product I try to throw away is larger and more awkward than the last. I’m lost in that struggle when Jim enters behind me, clears his throat and waves a pillow in my direction to get my attention.

I take a step toward him, only he crosses his arms and so  I stop. I”m a wreck and while he notices that, he does nothing to make me feel better. He simply stares at me for what feels like forever and finally speaks. We are apparently married or something in this dream and Jim definitely has the upper hand in this conversation.

Jim: You wanted something?

Me: yeah. About what I said. I shouldn’t have said that.

Jim: You mean calling me a moron?

Me: (Eyes on the floor) Yes, That. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said it.

Jim: Do you think I’m a moron?

Me: (Looking up) NO!

Jim: Then why did you say it?

Me: I don’t know.

Jim: (Arms still crossed raises right eye brow.)

Me: (Shuffles feet, starts smoothing my bedspread) – I was trying to be confident and funny. Like you guys. (Personal comment here: Like I’d EVER say that out loud, you know? I’m such a dork in my dreams.)

Jim: So, calling me a moron makes you confident and funny?

Me: yes, I mean No. … sigh.. I was trying to fit in. I’m not like you guys – but I want to be.  (Sit down on bed and stares at floor.) – (Wouldn’t say that one either! Who writes this crud. Oh yeah, I’m dreaming that’s right. sigh)

Jim: (Scratches his head and catches my eyes) — So you don’t think I’m a moron.

Me: No, I don’t. Actually, I think you’re awesome.

Jim: (Arms unfold and hands go in pockets) I see. …Comedy is a tough deal. First thing I’d tell you is to quit trying so hard to fit in. You are better than that and that won’t bring you confidence. People see right through that crap anyway.  Just be yourself. Oh and don’t call me a Moron, it hurts my feelings.

Jim leaves the room and I lay down.

Scene goes black. and I wake up.

It

was

a

dream.

CRAP —

I have to admit this dream kinda shook me up for the rest of the day as well as most of Monday. As a middle-aged woman stepping on stage, entering into yet again another male dominated field – having a dream about Jim Belushi calling me out, is a bit of a neurotic deal, you know? I mean he’s played all the venues I’ve ever dreamed of back when I performed all those years ago – Second City, SNL, Movies, Sitcoms. You name it he’s done it. He’s like the Godfather of comedy.  Okay, maybe that was a stretch, but you know what I mean right?  I used to see him at Cubs games when I lived in Chicago. No I don’t know him. Never met the guy.  Still, he’s fearless and funny and just a regular joe from Chicago and I felt like a five-year old in trouble with Dad in that last scene.

And so I’m stuck with two thoughts:

1. Jim Belushi is either some kind of father figure, my conscience, or God, and I’ve totally lost my mind

AND

2. I’ll never skip church to write comedy again. I’m pretty sure God is messing with me.

I could ask a thousand questions about what does this all mean, why Jim? Why the neuroses? Why can’t I have a cricket for a conscience? Why the conditioner – okay if you’ve seen my hair you get that one.  Question’s won’t help. I still have my set for Yukon to finish editing. I have to look at Jim later — I’m sure there is something about him — that made him come to mind while writing on Sunday — Time will tell. I did delete everything I wrote on Sunday afternoon, — Dream Jim was right, it really wasn’t that good.

For those interested, Mr Belushi is in a new television series called The Defenders which is actually really good. I like it. You cannot turn on a tv without seeing an advertisement for this show, which is probably why he was on my brain to begin with. At least I hope that is the reason and this isn’t going to turn into some Christmas Scrooge thing where I’m visited by comic ghosts of the past, present, and future. That would suck.

(Side note: I did buy his book, Real Men According to Jim, and reviewed it HERE.)