Last night there was one of those semi-funny real life moments where something so ridiculous happens that it begs to be remembered. I am not going to talk about that because I don’t want to upset anyone, but it is going to be talked about with a bunch of strangers when I get to improv Tuesday night.
The moment of getting to talk through the comedic nature of real life has become a highlight of my week, and sometimes my life is an improv sketch. Last week we discussed for a moment how I was a little annoyed that the day my schedule got scheduled over was cookie day, and that is the entire reason I pay for Gather. That I spend $250 a month for a co-working space just so I can get a cookie at 3:00 PM every Wednesday. I also ended up mentioning that if I stayed until happy hour every night and drank two beers that the membership would pay for itself.
That is what improv is. It is taking the absurdity of our real life and bring it into a fictional scene. Heightening it to a point where the absurdity can’t be ignored, and in the world as it is we could all use a little laughter at the absurd.
It should be no shock then that one of my dreams last night was about Tuesday night improv. I can’t remember exactly what it was. I remembered the dream up until the moment I started to write this journal entry. All I know is it was mostly the conversation leading up to the scene starting.
I now remember it. It was a conversation I had with one of my improv friends when giving him a ride home from practice. He mentioned he had a spiritual class this weekend and I mentioned that I’m Presbyterian and we don’t do that. That we’re more theological than spiritual. So the dream was about discussing that with the entire group and explaining how we look at the Bible ask what other translations say, what the original Greek or Aramaic word was, and probably hear about Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Karl Barth in sermons more than any other denomination.
I don’t know if any hilarious scenes spawned out of that discussion or if the dream version of the people I do improv with moved on because I either don’t remember or woke up. I now realize that in writing this I have created another layer of absurdity and we are reaching improv inception.
David Huzzard Writes 