| Peregrination. I didn’t make it up, it’s a real word. It’s one of those words that, if you use it in conversation, it might insult someone, or make people think you’re trying to impress them.
Or they’ll say, “Huh? Is that even a word?”
It is pronounced “Pair-uh-grin-a-shin.”
It is defined thus: “to wander or travel humorously.”
Which is why I love it. I’ve added it to my lexicon. That one word describes my life in four syllables (five, if you hang in there long enough).
Plus, it has the word “GRIN’ spelled out in the middle! (A “grin” being the MINIMUM reaction I hope to extrapolate from audiences.)
Thank you Thesaurus-dot-com and Merriam-Webster Dictionary!
This comes from having to share dinner with strangers last week while traveling (you could say I was in the middle of one of my peregrinations if you wanted to be technical) which is unusual because I rarely show up at parties, get-togethers, reunions, or any social gathering. Why do I rarely show up at these events? Because I am touring, traveling and… here it comes: peregrinating!
It’s certainly not because I’m shy or intimidated by crowds. I like meeting people, I have a million stories to share, whether you like it or not, and I am truly interested in hearing about other people’s lives, their jobs, their families and what they do to live, drive, and survive in the world of 2024.
The problem is my profession, the foreign and unknown lifestyle it entails (including peregrinations), and the accompanying expectations.
For example, I am often introduced: “This is my friend, Taylor Mason. He’s a comedian.”
Followed by a definitively pregnant pause and then, “A comedian? Really? Tell me a joke.”
There are comebacks to that of course: “A joke? Why, sure! Here’s one: when I first saw you, I laughed a lot.” (Don’t use that by the way, just as a word of caution… in today’s world people don’t know how to take a joke… see Jerry Seinfeld).
Or I say, “I get my jokes from a warehouse in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, but I forgot the passcode so I’m fresh out.”
Or, “Here’s something I thought was funny. I saw a billboard in Los Angeles last week advertising cosmetic surgery and breast augmentation for $3,999. I took for granted that was the price for both. And even though the doctors call it a ‘procedure,’ I prefer the term INSTALLATION. You know? Like having the plumber redo the sink with shiny new faucets.”
To which people might inevitably say, “Are you sure you’re a comedian?”
One of the people at this dinner happened to be a fashion designer, who also happened to be touring the world and very open about her profession. It’s a high stakes industry and she had lots of insight into the clothing business and lots of opinions on models.
She said clothes look good on women who are thin and have long legs. She said that Taylor Swift makes a good model for clothing. My response was, “OK. I buy that. But having Taylor Swift wear something proves nada to me. I think if I were looking for state-of-the-art fashion, I’d go with the designer who can make Whoopi Goldberg look thin and attractive.”
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There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment or two…
And then came the questions I dread: “What do you do?”
“Uh… I’m a ventrioquist.”
You can guess what’s coming: “Really? Make my fork talk! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Or, “I’m a musician.”
“Really? Do you make a living? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA.”
Whatever.
Eventually people ask for my favorite jokes. Here are a couple I’ve come across in my life of… PEREGRINATIONS:
#1 A grandmother stood on a beach, watching her five-year-old grandson frolic in the waves close to shore. She turned away, ever-so-briefly, and when she looked back, she saw the child being carried away by the undertow. She screamed “HELP!” A lifeguard sprang into action, battling the waves and the jetty. He persevered and, battered and bruised, managed to rescue the child unharmed. All but totally exhausted, he handed the child to the grandmother. The grandmother looked at the boy and turned to the lifeguard and said, “He had a hat.” |
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#2
A priest, a minister and a rabbi are playing golf. They make the turn after nine holes and 3 ½ hours. It’s a never-ending day-long nightmare. They complain to the club pro about the party in front of them, who is taking an eternity to play every hole, but the pro explains, “Look… have a heart! That party is blind.” The minister is shaken but says, “I will deliver a sermon about their courage on Sunday!” The priest, playing one-upmanship, says, “I’ll have the archdiocese write them a check to their favorite charity.” But the rabbi just shook his head, looked at them all and said, “So... these blind men... they can’t play at night?”
I’m taking my next peregrination this summer to LONG BEACH ISLAND, NEW JERSEY! Come see my live, improvisational, ever-changing and always high-energy show at THE SURFLIGHT THEATER in BEACH HAVEN, NEW JERSEY on Monday, August 12! ---------------------
My book, IRREVERSIBLE, is available at amazon.com HERE.
If you’d like a personalized comedy video, please find me HERE on Cameo and I’ll create something for you and your people.
Thanks for reading,
Taylor
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