Clark: Ba-da bing, ba-da boom! Spokane comedian gets roasted to raise money for the food bank
Maybe so.
But sitting on the dais at the Spokane Comedy Club Tuesday night, the spotlights scorching my retinas, I kept feeling the burn.
“All the Doug Clark fans I know are dead,” quipped comedian Phillip Kopczynski into the microphone, drawing laughs at my expense from the half-filled room.
Ouch!
That’s the thing about a roast. Everybody is fair game and our skewering of Jay Wendell Walker was no different.
Insults flew. No prisoners were taken.
But the venom and vitriol was also for a worthy cause. In asking me to join the roast panel, Walker made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Proceeds from the event will go to my charity of choice, the Second Harvest regional food bank.
Sure enough, when the laughs ended, $1,000 had been raised.
Walker, 74, is Spokane’s comedy grandpa, which is a more respectful way of saying geezer.
He began his standup career in 1960 and was soon taking his patter and pratfalls across the country and back again.
He was on the road so much that Walker missed all of the pivotal moments in the lives of his children.
You know, claimed fellow roaster Nick Theisen, “birthdays, graduations and inceptions.”
This was one funny bunch. I’ve participated in several roasts over the years, but never among a pack of such experienced comics.
“I don’t actually know why I was asked to join this esteemed cast of Craigslist applicants,” I stammered when it was my turn.
“Jay, where did you find such a basket of deplorables?”
I think I did OK. Not great. But at least nobody threw fruit at me.
The real comedians were easy to spot. They had the poise and timing that comes from staring down audiences night after night.
Seattle resident Brad Upton, for example, is a pro’s pro. The former schoolteacher has performed thousands of times, opening for acts like Joan Rivers and Johnny Mathis.
“How many times have we roasted you?” he asked, turning to Jay. “Four times? Let’s turn up the heat and make it a cremation.”
Upton once won the Las Vegas Comedy Festival. He’s appeared on HBO and has 31 years in the business.
I thought he was giving me a break when he pointed out that, “Clark gets paid for his profession, unlike the rest of us.”
Then he had to add: But “he still works for a newspaper – there’s a bright future.”
Walker was genuinely touched by the evening.
“This roast was special to me because I wasn’t medicated,” he joked, adding, “but I got kind of emotional. Afterwards, so many people came up to see me. I had a ball. I talked to the people, everybody loved it.”
Once again, comedian Harry J. Riley topped my favorites list.
I met Riley several years ago when I was a judge for the Spokane leg of the annual Seattle International Comedy Competition.
He won the event and my appreciation for his comedic storytelling style.
His role as a roaster Tuesday night didn’t disappoint.
“Can I ask a question?” he began. “Why are we here? Why are we doing this again? We could have done this on Facebook.
“Do we have to hear the same homosexual jokes over and over again?
“He’s black. He’s gay. He’s a child molester? Do we have to hear the same (expletive) again?”
Riley went on to tell a tale about spending three weeks in a car with Jay during a cold winter tour.
How bad was it?
Riley began wishing that “Obama had initiated those death panels” for the aged.
At the end of the world, he concluded, the only thing left will be Jay, cockroaches and Justin Bieber CDs.
Not everything during the evening was great.
A jerky video message from Susan Rice, beamed in via Skype, was less funny than the Zapruder film.
Jim Green, a vision-impaired comic, had a good line.
“Jay, one of these days we’ll be holding a wake for you,” he said. “Hopefully there’ll be some good food.”
Being blind offered no protection, however. “Jim Green has performed for packed houses,” said Adam Lee. “That’s what we tell him.”
Roastmaster Don Parkins kept things moving with recitations of old lines like, “If you don’t know Jay, you’re one of the lucky ones.”
I don’t know if putting a dozen hams on a roasting panel was such a great idea.
By the time Walker got his turn, just about every joke had been used up and everyone was pretty much worn out.
“I get to read Doug Clark’s column first thing in the morning,” I remember Walker saying as I got ready to leave. “That’s because I’m the only one left on the North Side still taking the paper.”
Cue the rim shot. I’m outta here.
Doug Clark is a columnist for The Spokesman-Review. He can be reached at (509) 459-5432 or by email at dougc@spokesman.com.