MORAN — Spencer James has carved his niche in the world of stand-up comedy, one gig at a time.
It’s been anything but easy.
For more than a decade, he’s driven thousands of miles between performances, and his weekends are booked solid pretty much through next April.
Which is exactly the way he wants it.
James, who counts numerous relatives in and around Allen County, has returned to southeast Kansas for a Saturday performance on behalf of Hope Unlimited.
James will be at the Piqua Knights of Columbus Hall as part of its “Comedy For a Great Cause” fundraiser. The show starts at 7 p.m. James will be followed by a musical performance by B.J. Pruitt and the Barnstormers.
Opening for James is New Orleans native, comedian Wade Ridley.
Advance tickets sell for $20 per person ($25 at the door), or $10 for the dance only.
Audience members must be at least 18 to enter.
Doors open at 6:30 p.m. The comedy show runs from 7 to 8:30, and the dance starts at 9.
James sat down with a Register reporter this week at the home of his grandmother — Moran’s Grayce Spencer — for an extensive discussion about the challenges of life in the comedic realm (good luck getting a crowd to laugh without offending somebody), how he got his start in entertainment (dancing in front of his grandmother’s television during a Pee Wee Herman movie) and other nuggets about life in general (job interviews don’t go well if your first question is about vacation time.)
JAMES, 34, grew up an Army brat, bouncing around the globe with his family. He graduated from high school in Germany.
“If you’re asking what feels like home, I’d probably say right here,” he said, from his grandmother’s living room in Moran. “I spent a lot of summers here as a child; a lot of time at the Iola pool.”
But aside from a few impromptu performances before family, he had nary an inkling a career in entertainment was in the cards.
That changed after high school when James enrolled at Allen Community College, (primarily because of the school’s proximity to his grandparents.)
James briefly considered trying out for a spot on the Red Devil basketball team, but decided against it after his prowess in a speech class and as part of a student improvisation troupe caught the eye of ACC drama instructor Tony Piazza.
“I guess he had a number of theater scholarships he had to get rid of, so he offered me one,” James joked.
It was a natural fit.
After college, it was Piazza who suggested James move to Hawaii where his father was stationed to pursue a career as a performer.
So he followed, and even got work as an extra — the ones barely seen and never heard in the background of various movies and TV shows — before trying his hand at stand-up.
“The first time didn’t go well,” he recalled. “I got a good joke in at the start, to make people laugh, and I got a good one in at the end. But in the middle, it was 4 minutes and 30 seconds of terror for everybody, including myself.”
But amid the misery came an epiphany.
“I thought, if that’s the hardest thing I’ll experience in my life, I could try it again.”
The second time went better. As did the third.
He was hooked.
James moved to Los Angeles, but toiled fruitlessly for about two years in the effort to get a gig in local comedy clubs.
“I couldn’t get on the stage,” he said.
Broken but unbowed, James moved Denver where he took on with a local airline carrier. The job allowed him to fly across the country for free (albeit, on standby; another source of angst), which opened doors to gigs from coast to coast.
He became a student of the craft, poring over clips of comedy legends, from George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Jerry Lewis and Mitch Hedberg, to more recent comedians of great renown, such as Jimmy Dore.
Eventually, his self-deprecating style of humor began to get noticed. After about five years, James was able to quit his day job at the airline.
James found one successful avenue was with comedy festivals.
In 2014, James was crowned the winner in the 2014 World Series of Comedy in Las Vegas.
But with the fame came the realization that more hard work lie ahead.
“I don’t think there’s any festival around that you can win, and suddenly you’re taken care of for life,” he said. “When performers know that show’s about to be over, they want another show. There’s no stability. It’s a constant grind.”
JAMES describes his comedy style as “adaptive.”
He’s experienced enough on stage to even alter his routines, depending upon the audience.
“I do like performing for all groups,” he said. “Older crowds tend to be smarter. They get the jokes, and I like a patient audience. But the younger crowds, well, they’re more raw.”
James routinely draws upon stories from his own experiences for his material.
“I describe it almost as solution comedy,” he explained. “I’ll talk about my family and myself. There’s a lot of truth in my comedy. They’ll ask, ‘Did this really happen?’ Yeah, that happened. I also like putting people on the edge of their seats, where they’re thinking, ‘Should I be offended by that?’ Then they’ll lean back and think, ‘Oh, no. That’s right.’”
He’s not always successful.
James recalled a time in San Francisco where audience members took offense at a series of jokes about weight.
“I’m not trying to offend,” he said. “I’m trying to make a smarter joke. I said I was a fat kid, and they got offended. But this is me; this is my story.”
BEING THE fat kid — which puberty helped take care of — became fertile ground for James’s comedy.
“I had to learn how to defend myself,” he explained, and he did so through humor.
James avoids political commentary in his stand-up.
“I’ll almost go in the opposite direction,” he said.
“I’ll make fun of Grandma a lot,” he teased, “because she’s not there.”
AH, YES, Grandma.
While James is known elsewhere for his comedy, around Moran he’s known simply as Grayce Spencer’s grandson.
She was a long-time music teacher for Moran Grade School, retiring in 1992, and remains active in the local music scene, even though she notes her retirement (25 years and counting) has lasted longer than her teaching career (23 years.)
This reporter is among the hundreds of her former students.
“I hear that all the time,” James laughed. “She usually gets mixed reviews.
“The funny part is she’s the closest thing I have in my family to somebody who’s been in show biz.”
JAMES’S breakneck schedule will continue for the time-being.
He will travel as far as Oregon, Florida and Canada through December, then spend about two months back in Los Angeles early in 2018, before another series of performances are scheduled in the spring.
Additionally, James has been added to the roster of stand-up comedians tapped to perform aboard Carnival Cruise Lines in 2018.
“Oh really?” his grandmother interjects. “Can you take grandmothers?”
James laughs.
“Thanks, Grandma,” he replies. “You haven’t perked up for anything, but the second I mention a cruise line…
“I’ll ask,” he finally tells her. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing to ask right at the start.”
The conversation prompts James to recall his myriad failed job interviews, including the job he lost after querying his interviewer about vacation time.
“I liked to turn the job interview around on the person doing the asking,” he chuckled. “‘How do you feel? Do you like your life? What do you do?’
“I didn’t get hired for those jobs, either.”
But that’s OK.
James now stays busy enough to support himself by his comedy alone.
“I never thought I could do this and make money at it,” he admitted. “I never thought I could pay the bills.”
And as he’s aged, James has developed new goals. “You have to, in order to not be complacent,” he explained.
“I’m 34 now,” he continued. “I’ve told myself by the time I’m 35, I want to be able to make a better than decent wage at this.”
So far, so good, particularly with the Carnival Cruise Lines gig coming.
“But I’m still not sure how that works,” he laughed. “It’s just a waiting game now, to see when they call.”
THE “GRIND” — spending each night in a different hotel — can be tiresome, James admits. Still, he focuses on the benefits.
“I get to travel and see family,” he explained. “I see my cousins and aunts and uncles more often now than I ever would have been able to otherwise. And I get to write and create and do what I love. I’m still young enough that I can say this is fun.
“I have no wife, and no kids,” he said. “I’m treating this like a professional athlete would. Don’t get married until you find out you can be stable while doing this career, because it’s a hard career. It takes a long time to do this the way I’ve done it.
“Right now, I feel blessed,” he said. “If I get hit by a bus tomorrow. Well, then it’s probably over.”
