It’s not uncommon for a comedian to hear “Hey, maybe you can use this joke.” A stranger approaches the comedian after a show and tells them they have a funny idea. Most times, what they think is a comedy nugget is about as funny as a rock. The death of a much-loved pet is probably funnier. Then they follow with, “So what do you think? You can have it. I won’t charge you. You know I’m not a comedian.”
And I politely respond, “Oh really, you’re not a comedian?”
Even my wife, who lives to make endless suggestions to me, hardly ever suggests new comedy ideas.
For a comedian to remain funny, they need to be around other funny people. Or at a minimum, somewhat funny people. I’m lucky to have funny friends both in and out of show business.
Worst of all is that person who is so delusional that they think they are funnier than the actual comedy professional. Those people are pitiful and desperately seeking to be loved. Electric shock therapy can’t stop these rabid maniacs.
Get my drift? It has to be funny. Not chuckle funny. Not tickle your fancy funny. Hopefully scream-worthy funny.
But occasionally there comes along that rare individual who is not only funny themselves but also has some ideas with true comedy potential.
Now, Jonas is funny. He has a great laugh and a somewhat advanced sense of humor. Like Adam had an extra rib, Jonas has an extra bone. The funny bone.
One such person is Jonas Hanelin. Jonas is a hardworking husband, father, son, religious man, and closet comedy writer. Jonas has a keen eye. He is also my friend. Now, Jonas is funny. He has a great laugh and a somewhat advanced sense of humor. Like Adam had an extra rib, Jonas has an extra bone. The funny bone.
We were friends long before Jonas started pitching me jokes.
Jonas and I were both born on April 20th. Many years ago, we decided that every year, on our birthday, we would go get foot massages and then dinner. No wives — just two guys celebrating being alive.
And it’s never a letdown. We meet at my house. Then we walk to get the massage, walk to dinner, and finally walk home. It’s four hours of Jonas-and-Mark private time, chatting about where we are at in life.
When my work slowed down and money wasn’t coming in, Jonas suggested other ways for me to make a buck. What I liked was that he never suggested I do anything outside the creative world. He knew me well enough to understand that I needed something that included funny. The fact that he understood me at that deep level makes for a strong friendship.
One day, years into our friendship, he calls and says, “Hey Marko, it’s Jonas. I think I have something for you.” Now, Jonas never pitches a bunch of ideas. Like the old-fashioned door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesperson, he comes with one bit at a time. A few of his early pitches were funny but not right for my act. A good comedy idea needs to fit tight and smooth, like a doctor’s glove.
After a few tries, he hit gold. He came up with a bit called “cage-free”. Cage-free is not only funny but also timely. I’ve done it to easily over 20,000 people.
Recently, he came with a bit about paying the restaurant check on those minicomputers they sometimes hand to you. And how the waitstaff watches over to see how much tip you’re leaving. No more tip privacy. Jonas’s big gripe is should you tip for takeout food? He says no.
These are keen and timely observations. One sign the idea is funny is when it bothers the person who created it. Jonas is truly upset about the shift in his private tip moment. It’s perfect Larry David. Larry would go to war with that one.
Not long ago he left me a message, “I just read in The Wall Street Journal that there’s an Adderall shortage. The problem is no one is focusing on it.”
Jonas gets a big kick knowing that his material is working.
I get a big kick out of making it work.
Sometimes the audience gets a big kick out of hearing it.
With friends like Jonas, who needs to pay writers?
Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and host of the ‘You Don’t Know Schiff’ podcast.
