Boston Comedy's
Favorite Uncle
written by Sarah Blodgett
For those not familiar with Boston comedy, the stand-up scene here is like a dysfunctional family. Bookers and club owners are like father figures, doling out advice while you constantly seek their approval; some are Ozzie Nelson, some are Ozzy Osbourne. The comedians that you start with are like siblings, filled with a unique blend of rivalry and camaraderie. The comics that start before you are like older cousins, constantly trying to test your loyalty to the family. Comics that start after you are the younger cousins that you put through the initiation that you were subjected to. Headliners are like crazy uncles; some are mentors, some act superior, and others try to touch you inappropriately when no one is looking. All of us sit around comedy clubs, our version of a family dinner table, and discuss the family business of comedy.
As I approach my 5th anniversary in comedy, several moments stand out, like my first time on stage, the first time I bombed (luckily those are two different times), and the first time I remember really feeling like a comic.
Another experience that sticks out in my mind is the first time I performed at the Comedy Connection in Faneuil Hall. The club is no longer there, but when I started out it was the biggest club in town. Every Monday was amateur night and many comics performed there for the first time, filled with the hope that the club booker would pass them so they could stop doing Mondays and move on to much bigger days, like Tuesdays.
I was doing comedy for a few months when I tried to get a Monday slot at the Connection.When the big day arrived I was terrified. Not accustomed to stage fright, I wasn’t sure how to deal with this newfound fear. I mean, I wasn’t this nervous the first time I did stand-up. Why did the fear hit me now? Staring at the stage, I realized that the seats surrounded the whole perimeter. I had no idea how to get onto the stage. When I heard my name called, I
followed the only pathway through the chairs I could fit through, wobbling like Bambi learning how to walk and not just because I was in 4 inch heels.
When I reached the stage, out reached the hand of the host and Boston Comedy’s favorite uncle, Kevin Knox. “Just have fun” he said, smiling. And that is exactly what I did. It wasn’t unique advice, but Knoxie had a way of saying the simplest things so sincerely that, from him, just had more meaning.
It wasn’t long after that, I heard Knoxie had cancer. Doctors said he had only months to live, but even them, he’d proven them wrong. I remember thinking that you would never have known that he was suffering to look at him.
He had the energy of a 13 year-old, on stage and off.
Knoxie was every new comic’s favorite uncle. When I met him, his signature locks were gone, but that tall, thin, and now bald man had the biggest personality you will ever know. Crowds loved him and to comedians he dished out little gems of advice, like an uncle sneaks you a piece of your favorite candy before supper. His advice was selfless, never intended to show superiority or to hit on you; it was because he wanted new comics to be good for the sake of comedy.
When I started getting paid gigs, I got the chance to open for him many times. He was just so much fun to watch. His act never got old, no matter how many times I heard it.
On stage he was fearless. I remember one time on a show, a woman was heckling him. He would zing her, and then she would answer back. The back and forth exchange went on a few more times until Knoxie finally looked her right in the eye and said, “Just so you know, you’re not going to win this.” It was a confidence that I only dream of having one day.
Recently Knoxie lost his long battle with cancer. Many say he was lucky to have lived as long after his diagnosis as he did. I say I was lucky. I was lucky that, during the first 5 years of my comedy career, I was blessed to have known and worked with him. All of my comedy siblings and older cousins were lucky to have him in our lives as long as we did. As one of my comedy brothers and best friends said, “I feel bad for future generations of Boston comics that are going to miss out on what Knoxie had to offer.”
But in Boston, his legend will live on. And for years to come, Boston comics will sit around our comedy dinner tables and share our stories of the great Kevin Knox, Boston comedy’s favorite uncle.
Sarah Blodgett is a comedian from Boston.
Visit sarahblodgettonline.com.