Oh, to be Young

Dakota here…

When you’re 19. You think you know everything, but what do you know?

At 19, I was working for Clair Weiss, a rancher in Northwest South Dakota. The year was 1991. I was young, and at that stage, well Clair had been around a few times. He had fought in World War II, he had punched more cattle then I had ever seen and lived more life then I could imagine. A quiet man, but when he talked, worth listening too.

As a ranch hand, you spend a lot of time with the boss on a small operation. The work is hard and the hours can be long. So you get to know each other well and conversations can go any where.

This day that I am thinking back of, Clair and I was working on a tractor that had blow a hydraulic hose. Turning wrenches, we were talking about life. Few days earlier we had attended the funeral of a neighbour from a few ranches over. Thinking back, I wonder how could I have been so brazen to ask, but I did. “Clair, at your age, how can you sleep knowing that you do not have that long left in this world?” Clair laughed then said to me “Son, You are young, so you won’t understand, but eventually life wears on you and death just isn’t that scary anymore.” I didn’t understand.

I remember spending a good part of that night thinking about that statement. All these years it has stuck with me.

Eventually I left that ranch to see the world. Clair passed on. The ranch was sold off and the world took me down roads I never imagined. But how often that thought comes to my head. I ask myself “Do I understand, yet?”

If a tree falls in the forest…

When was my last gig? Not sure at this stage.

This lock down has been driving me nuts. I am not an overly social creature. I hate crowds. Inherited that trait from my father. But the exception is comedy crowd. Give me a comedy crowd and I say “Let’s pack this place out.” I miss it.

My wife does not want to hear anymore of my jokes. All I get from her, is the usual rolling of her eyes as I throw out the most recent gem of comedic mirth that has presented itself with in my brain box.

As for my two daughters, well, they have gotten quite hostile with their responses to me trying to share “Just one more joke.” Teenagers! A right pain in the back bumper to be honest.

The dogs gladly listen, but they just don’t get it. And the cats, well, they have similar responses as my daughters.

I need a crowd. I need a comedy crowd. There is so much to be cracking up about at the moment.

Makes me wonder, If a joke falls in the hallway…

Why Dakota Mick?

So what’s up with the name Dakota Mick? Well, obviously my mother didn’t give me that name. That would have been stupid, especially considering I was born in Nebraska.

Anyways, when my wife finally got tired of South Dakota she drug me over here to Ireland back in 2001. Her being just to damn homesick. We ended up renting a little cottage outside of a small village not to far from Kinsale in County Cork. I made it my business fairly quickly to investigate the quality of the cold beverages in the village Pub. Luckily for me it was up to scratch. Actually quite good.

A special place to me.

After the locals got to know me, they decided that Michael, the name my momma did give me, just wasn’t good enough. “So how about Mick?” they suggested.

My response, “Well, to be honest, I usually go by Mike.”

“Ah ya, but you are in Ireland now…It has to be Mick.”

Well to be honest, I have been called a lot worse. So I agreed. Why not Mick…

“Well now, you can’t be Mick…Mick Murphy is Mick.”

“Well that’s fair enough, so how about we just call me Mike.”

But the locals insisted. “Your in Ireland now, so it has to be Mick. See we got Scottish Mick, we have English Mick, and we already have Mick the Yank…so you can’t be him…Where did you say you are from again?”

“South Dakota.”

And that is when the locals decided that Dakota Mick was my name. And once I got used to it I realised that as a name in Ireland it was really quite useful. The locals can explain away any strangeness they might perceive about me with. “Why sure, he is from the Dakotas, no wonder he is a bit different. And I also found that once the local had named you, that they seemed to take you in as one of their own. Which is nice.

Unfortunately, I no longer live in that village. But the name stayed with me. I like it. It labels me, kind of like a brand on my backside. Although, if I am ever in South Dakota I never use it. They would think I am some pretentious bastard.

So Why the Muslim and the Redneck?

Well you know, sometimes you just need to do something different.

It all started when I first met Mustafa at the final of the 2019 Show Me the Funny competition up in Galway. It was a great night for a competition. Full house, and the crowd was up for it. I was second up on the night. I crushed my set. If I do say so myself. And that is all you can do in a competition. But it was a great night. The comedians had all brought their A game. Mark O’Keeffe was up after me and he tore the place apart, ended up winning the whole damn thing. Well deserved too. Mustafa was up later in the night and yet again another great set, which earned him a second place spot. But besides that Mustafa and I got to chatting a bit and figured we kind of liked each others comedy. The start of it.

2019

So over the course of the year, we ended up gigging together at a few venues around Ireland. Each time having a great laugh at each others comedy and then having a good laugh messing with each other after the gigs. Slagging can be hell you know.

Then after a gig in Cork, Mustafa suggested that maybe we should team up and produce a comedy show. “The Muslim and the Redneck” That was his idea. So you know who to blame. First thought, this could end up get us into some trouble…so ya, let’s do it.

So that is where we are at. Working on producing a show. We know we can be funny on our own. But trying to combine. Tough work. But we are getting there. Mostly we spend our time trying to think of stereotypes of each others back rounds. And then wondering how can we turn that on it’s head. We call it research, but mostly we are still just slagging each other. So who knows… As long as I can avoid pissing off the 1.6 billion Muslims in the world. We might just do something funny as hell.

I always want to be a comedian.

So 43 years old, and I decide it is time to start trying to be a comedian. To be honest, I have always been a comedian. Growing up, laughing was sometimes, the only option for dealing with life. As Dad would often say. “If you ain’t laughing, you’ll be crying.”

But now, it is time to try to be a comedian, for reals. So I start searching the local comedy scene and discover the CoCo Comedy Club here in Cork City. After attending the club several times, Cornelius, the guy running the club, gave me an open mic slot. Five minutes. It does not seem like much. Until it is your first time standing behind the Mic. But from that first moment, I knew I had found a new love. And now I was wondering why had I waited so long for this.

In my head, I crushed it that first night. But the truth was, it was rough, dog rough, as rough as wiping your back side with a corn cob. But I was on my way. A passion of comedy was lit inside of my soul.

From then on, I might still be working making kitchens, but in my head I was working on writing new comedy. Every chance I got I was heading into the CoCo Club and performing. Learning the ropes. At first the thrill of performing was just a fire. Every night I performed, I was trying to bring new material. A rookie mistake. But finally I started working on a set. Several sets. And before you know it I was looking for other clubs to perform in.

Luckily for me, the performance side of comedy has come fairly easy. Figure at 43, I am just to damn old to get nervous. Besides, with what I had done been through in the military years, what was a crowd going to do to scare me.

So, two and a half years later. I am still busting away at being a comedian. I have had opportunities to perform all over the island of Ireland. And I love it. The crowds are great fun. Nutty as a bag of squirrels, but usually up for a good time.

Now I have had plenty of times where I have died on stage. Those seem to be the nights you learn the most. Also those are the nights that you telling your comedian buddies about and have a good laugh at each others sufferings. Most nights it goes well, and you have a good time and the crowd does too. But then there are those nights where you are on fire. Where you are slaying the crowd and you realise mid set that you could say just about anything right now and you know the crowd is coming with you for the laugh. These days I feel I live for those nights.

At the stage in comedy, I make some money, on some nights. But the reality is that I am still an amateur comedian. With dreams of taking this to the next level. And in my head I approach like a professional. I am deadly serious about being funny. I constantly record my sets and review my performances to see where I can improve. It is a passion. My biggest regret these days is that I am not some where like New York or London where I could be performing every night. Well when this pandemic goes by anyways.

Thing is about Comedy. You can practice all you want. But at the end of the day it is the live performances that really develops your comedy skills. So that is where I am at. Working away at developing my skills and wondering why I didn’t start this craic years ago.

Anyways, hopefully I will run into you soon at a local comedy show. And hopefully I will have you laughing.

Jerry Corley Online Immersion, just finished day 4.

I am just over halfway through a week long online immersion with Jerry Corley.

I have seen his ads on social media for a while although the prospect of going all the way to California seemed daunting for a Muslim in the Trump Era.

Frustrated with not able to perform standup due to the lockdown I was intrigued by the opportunity tell jokes every night once again with some expert criticism behind it. Jerry’s bumph boasts of 30 years of comedy experience including writing for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.

I was hoping this course could stimulate me into writing a bit more and improve my existing stand up content.

This course was not inexpensive… But for my 500 ish dollars I got quite a lot of solid training. Every day there are 4 to 5 hours of lectures, writing, performance and feedback. Jerry talks about the psychology of comedy and elucidates comedy mechanics including incongruity, clichés and reversals and rule of 3 type stuff.

While you can learn about a lot of this stuff from books, what makes this course special is the intensive writing group writing sessions and Jerry’s critiques. I can’t think of a nicer and more approachable stand up comedy coach.  I have been doing standup for 7 years and Jerry blew my mind with some excellent punching up of my existing material and suggestions of ongoing writing. He is extremely generous with his time and often overshoots by an hour. He invites us all to send material to him by e mail or even call him with any questions. Today he just did a critique of 10 of my newly written jokes, explaining in very lucid terms how I tend to overwrite the jokes. He is a very positive, encouraging and competent teacher.

I have been enjoying the Zoom format and other course delegates have been terrific in giving each other notes.

I have written about a hundred one liner jokes since I have started the course 4 days ago and I have been publishing them on Facebook and twitter and they seem fairly well received. I am looking forward to the final day tomorrow although will be sad to be leaving the group.

Hopefully after tomorrow, as well as making lots of new friends, I will continue my writing habits and keep publishing my new jokes on social media.

Enter the Muslim

But for goodness sake ask my permission first.

My name is Mustafa Saed and I have been a standup comic and improv guy for the last 7 years or so, looking desperately for my big break so my family will respect me again.

Stand up comedy is my side hustle, with my grown up job being a GP Locum, having studied medicine to stop my parents from disowning me. I sometimes like to combine my worlds by teaching improv and comedy workshops to other doctors. This has appeased my parents into thinking I am a medical specialist

I first met Dakota Mick at the finals of the comedy competition Show me the Funny 2019 in Galway. I hope you brushed over the subtle brag. I had already befriended him on Facebook and enjoyed his provocative posts on politics which led to many a constructive chat on how Dakota Mick didn’t have a clue about anything.

Dakota stood out in the competition, with his distinctive rural American accent. He was also very funny and the audience enjoyed his easy going style. While I write, rewrite and rehearse, Dakota Mick sounded like he was talking to the audience and he got big laughs. All the other comics were also laughing and applauding, while I secretly wanting him to fail. Leave me alone. Its competition.

Over the next year we bumped into each other on Irish comedy ‘road’ and ran jokes past each other, talked smack about other comics and complained not being booked for more paid gigs. We toyed about with idea of a double act and came up with the name “The Muslim and the Redneck” although the graft and travel involved in being a grafting beginning comic (few are taken seriously before the 10 year mark) meant that it was difficult to collaborate and get the project really moving,

Come February of 2020 the Coronavirus Pandemic caused a devastating loss of life, a crippling economic downturn and cataclysmic closing of bars and comedy clubs all over the world. With a burning desire to gain the approval of others we decided to put all our efforts into the project.

This blog is a diary of how two middle-aged technophobes bumble their way through social media to try and promote and produce sketches and a comedy show at a time their co-morbid conditions are forcing them to stay at work.

Dakota Mick’s first blog

Dakota here…April 14th 2020 at around 2:00 in the morning. What the hell am I doing awake? And why the hell am I trying to write? Good questions, I have no idea.

Well here I is, knee deep in the middle of this quarantine. Oh joy. I am bored out of my mind and my sleep schedule is all over the place.

So Mustafa and I, the two forces of nature, behind the Muslim and the Redneck. Have been working away at trying to develop a comedy duo, comedy show, comedy extravaganza, a hurricane of chuckles in order to escape the mundane of everyday life. So how did this come to be.

Let’s do a flash back montage.

A few years back, I was working away, cutting up a load of materials to make a kitchen. For years I have been working as a cabinet maker to pay the bills and help raise a family. While listening to the radio as I worked, I heard a comedian chatting with the DJ’s, basically talking smack and promoting the show that he was touring around the country.

I have always wanted to be a comedian ever since I was a kid listening to Richard Pryor albums with my Dad. My Dad was a huge fan, with no qualms about letting his kids listen, no matter what Mom said. But growing up in South Dakota in the 70’s and 80’s, not to many opportunities to get into comedy.

But then life gets busy. You graduate high school, realise white trash can’t afford to go to college, so you join the Marine Corps. Hey, it got me out of a small town that was getting to small for me. You meet a girl from Ireland, marry a girl from Ireland and before you know it, a kid, then another kid. Then life… work… more work… and more life. Until one day you are 43 years old working at cutting up a kitchen, listening to a comedian promote his show and thinking. I always wanted to be a comedian.

I always wanted to be a comedian.