On board with THE DAILY SHOW

When I told people in North Carolina that I was moving to New Jersey, I got a wide range of responses, from "Why on earth would you do that?" to "What's wrong with you?" to "You may the dumbest idiot I know." At first I wondered if they were right, but in the last three weeks I finally found the answer. (Yes, it took me two years.) On Thursday, I sat in the studio during a taping of The Daily Show, just three weeks after doing the same for the Colbert Report.

For those of you who remember my Colbert exploits, you know that it marked the pinnacle of my life, a point from which I was only bound to fall mercilessly back to earth. While the Daily Show helped to ease that fall, it definitely did not live up to the Colbert high. At first i wondered if this was because I had essentially entered the Colbert Report as a TV audience novice, and The Daily Show was merely Take Two, but I don't think this is true. I entered Thursday strongly a Colbert man, and I went to sleep that night the same. For me, Jon Stewart - while excellent - does not live up to Stephen Colbert, and the experiences were very different.

There were many similarities, including the long lines to get in, the heavy security, and more. But the atmosphere at The Daily Show was much different. Being older and more established, there was almost a sterile air in the studio. Whereas the people at the Report emphasized so strongly that the show depended on our laughter - indeed, it seemed as though Stephen would go home and cry if we were not loud enough - we were told just once to laugh at the Daily Show, and even then it didn't seem that important. Jon came out and spoke to us, and he was certainly funny (even more so than he is during the show, oddly). The show began, and it was almost as if we were an afterthought. We couldn't hear him too well, especially if there was any laughing, and Jon played more for the cameras than for us. The studio was much larger, and Stewart was further away from us, almost kept at a distance. Colbert was exactly the opposite. During the show he looked at us and not always the cameras, playing to us, as if to ask us to laugh.

Perhaps most emblematically were the way the hosts entered and exited the studio. Stewart emerged from the back of the stage, spoke to us from in front of our desk, did the show, and then exited the way he came, never coming too close, letting the large studio act as a natural buffer between audience and host. Colbert, however, ran from behind the audience, jogging down the center aisle while slapping people's hands. He paced the studio while answering our questions before the show. After the show, he walked along the front row, shaking hands with many of us, and then - as you recall - walked up the aisle by me and graciously touched my ever-graced hand.

So perhaps this is my long-winded way of explaining why I prefer the Colbert Report to The Daily Show. Stephen Colbert is everything Jon Stewart was 10 years ago: the upstart, eviscerating mainstream ideas while remaining deeply in touch with his audience. Jon Stewart has reached a level of popularity which has made that impossible. In a way that is sad, because I have watched TDS since Craig Kilborn first debuted his "Five Questions." But, at least we have Stephen Colbert.

And did I mention: Stephen Colbert lives down the street from my school. New Jersey isn't all bad.

On board with STEPHEN COLBERT

"He looked at me and stared, yes he
Bumped me
My heart was unprepared when he
Tapped me
And knocked me off my feet
One little touch
Now my life's complete ..."
- "I Can Hear the Bells" from Hairspray

It's been just a week with this blog, and already I am going to break my word and write about something other than commuting (although I did have to commute to get there ... does that count?) On Monday, July 21, I sat in the audience of The Colbert Report. This is the story of my adventure. This is the story of the apex of my life.

I arrived at the Colbert studio around 4:00 and held a place in line until my friend - and the woman responsible for my tickets, Sara Pugh - came around a few minutes later. Though we had tickets, they overbook the show (because if there is one industry you're going to mimic, why not make it the airline industry?) so we had to get in line an hour early to ensure we got in. We waiting in the heat (though under an awning) until about 5:30, at which time we were very slowly let into what I will call a holding cell just outside the studio entrance (but thankfully inside with air conditioning). Along the way we were given laminated cards with numbers.

After waiting in the line for the bathroom for some 20 minutes (a long story, all attributable to one, unfortunate mystery 18-year-old), the audience manager of the show came out to speak with us. He told us that Stephen feeds off of the audience so we needed to remember to laugh louder and harder than we normally would. He said it's natural to get in and be so excited that you don't even laugh but just smile - we must fight this urge, he told us, because the audience from last Tuesday was a "suck fest" and the "show suffered because of it." We practiced with a few hearty Ha's, thought we were told to not actually shout "Ha" because that would be creepy.

Then we walked in in order of our laminated card numbers (mine was 30, Sara's 29 - ladies first) and were seated, but not like you did when you went to the planetarium with your sixth grade class; a talented stage hand found us seats according to the number in our party seemingly at random throughout the studio. Sara and I sat on the far left of the audience, in front of the left side of the main desk, from your TV viewing point of view.

My stomach actually and truthfully lurched a bit as we walked in - this was my Graceland. The studio is very small, and the audience is only large enough for 109 people. We sat for a few minutes as the rest of the audience members filed in, and looking around I noticed things I hadn't on TV: a nest for little Stephen Jr in the far back left corner; his Emmy and Peabody on the hearth above the fake fireplace.

After a while the warm-up comedian came out to get us going. He made fun of a few of the people in the audience, including the old couple next to me that did not want to laugh out loud and a group of business men sitting on the opposite side of the studio. One of these men, from Germany, had never seen the show - the other three had brought him here as part of a wine-and-dine business trip. While the comedian explained to us when to go crazy at the opening of the show (when the eagle comes out and rears his talons) he asked us all to make our own talons - these four businessmen refused to do it. I was embarrassed for them.

After about 20 minutes of jokes, he introduced us to Stephen, who ran out and danced around a bit. He answered a few questions from audience members out of his TV character, though none were really clever. Then he got behind the desk, and the show was nearly underway.

It is completely different watching the show in person than watching it on TV. For one thing, I felt compelled to laugh at everything - and not just chuckle but really laugh out loud. It was hard to even focus on the funny because I felt obligated to laugh whenever I needed to. "Here's a break, I should laugh!" "Punchline - laugh time!" I laughed so much that by the end my cheeks physically hurt.

One of the best parts of being there was watching Stephen during the commercial breaks. The show is obviously not live, but he has breaks where they go and discusses jokes with his writers, fixes his makeup, and gets prepared - but he's always on, dancing in his chair or making faces for the crowd. And during the second part of the show we watched a pre-recorded interview he had made with someone from the Sierra Club. We in the audience watched Stephen watch himself on tape, and the experience is quite interesting. He watched it very intently, laughing when we were supposed to laugh or making this funny face with his lips pulled back and his teeth pressed together - he must be self-conscious watching himself on TV as we watch him. I know I would sit there nervously hoping that people would laugh the way they are supposed to. Of course, he needn't worry about us - the man is great.

Also, during one of the commercial breaks he pointed out to the audience and smiled. I will go to my grave believing he looked at me.

After the show, he walked down the front row shaking people's hands. He got to our end and walked up our aisle. I am not ashamed to admit that when he got to my row I leaned way over and stuck my hand out. AND HE SHOOK MY HAND! He looked me in the eye and said, "Thanks for coming." He might as well have said, "Phillip, I love you," because they would have had the same effect on my fragile, sensitive psyche.

In shock and realizing that nothing in my life will ever top this moment, I followed the others out of the studio, back through the small holding cell, and emerged in the setting sun shining down on a world much different from the one I had left two hours before. In this new world, I have been touched, literally, by Stephen T. Colbert. This is a world I can live in.

Then I walked to the subway and hopped on the C line back to Penn Station. There it is - I commuted.



Please put comments on my blog:

http://westeggvistor.blogspot.com/