Odd Choices

I rummage through a drawer overflowing with poor sartorial choices, hand-me-downs from a styleless past. I'm frantic; it's a big day. Tonight is my level 1 "greenhorn" student show at Finest City Improv. My therapist says I like to leave big decisions to the last minute so I don't have to feel the weight of them. This is, as much of life is, fully optional. Yet I need the perfect outfit.

I would drape myself in velvet if it were socially acceptable - George Costanza

Yes, I wore a velvet jumpsuit for my first ever show. I spent half an hour transitioning clothes from in-drawer to on-body to piled-on-bed, but when it got to the velvet jumpsuit, I halted the outfit production line - this is it; this says "I'm confident".

I'm not fluent in clothes.

I think one of the reasons many of us join the cult of improv is we have a tickling suspicion we make odd choices. Not that we do things without good reason, but somehow the reasoning leads to odd decisions. Trying improv is almost confirmation of this.

Starting level 1, I was the goodest doggo. My beach ball wasn't going to touch the floor. My word in the story was never going to be nonsensical. My tree always came with an apple. I did everything "right". I was the Air Bud of improv. And after every exercise, I peeked at my instructor for treats and affirmation. And I got them...

But so did everyone else. Like when I built my clay and popsicle stick Jamestown in 4th grade, it was heartbreaking watching my classmates get the same grade with half the effort. So, out of spite, I let go of trying to get it "right". I made odd choices. I made dumb moves. I started saying weird things. And they were all supported. In fact, I felt more welcome too.

I zip-zap-zop'd my way from y'all are idiots to I'm the idiot taking this seriously.

Don't get me wrong, I still take this very seriously. I'm writing a blog post to defend a velvet jumpsuit I wore a long time ago. But what I took from level 1 is the "right" choice is nice, but the odd choice is fun. It's the one that's unique to the individual. It's perspective rooted in the player's unique experience they bring to the scene. And shouldn't we all want to support and celebrate that?

I haven't stopped saying weird things ever since, and improv has yet to revoke my membership.