This is an article by Nick Obis for the University of Dayton newspaper, The Flyer News. Enjoy! Ehren Katzur - Webmaster Amidst a hazy, smoke-filled club full of patrons dining on chicken wings, a long-haired hippie in sunglasses stands timidly on stage, drowsily murmuring lines like "The depressing thing about tennis is, no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall." Over the last few years, comedian Mitch Hedberg has starred in his own Comedy Central special, made appearances on That 70's Show and Dr. Katz, premiered his debut film at Sundance, and become one of David Letterman's favorite stand-up comics. His style is droll and understated: Eyes closed, head down, his laconic, deadpan wit delivered in what Time magazine critic Joel Stein dubs "a bizarre slacker cadence." Critics have had a field day with their thesauri attempting to describe his mellow, muttering drawl, which falls somewhere between Hunter Thompson, Steven Wright, and a stoned Keanu Reeves. Although his drowsy, methodical diction is key to his delivery, which includes lines such as, "I think Bigfoot is blurry" and, "Foosball is a combination of soccer and shish kebab," his subtle style is no routine. "Of course, how I sound onstage comes out slightly different than how it does offstage, but it's pretty much just me," he told me in a recent interview. "It may BECOME an act, but still it's the way I talk initially, you know what I mean?" The term "act" almost seems inappropriate when describing Hedberg's style; little of what he does onstage seems calculated. Watching him perform, one almost gets the feeling that Mitch Hedberg is not a professional comic, but some random guy who accidentally wandered onstage and decided to start telling jokes. In fact, that account is not too far removed from the true story of his career, which began when Hedberg was working as a cook in Florida. "My friend," he explained, "who was a cook as well, was doing open mic night in the evenings; and, you know, I didn't really think the guy was very funny, so I said, I gotta check this out." Hedberg has come a long way since that happenstance entrance into the world of stand-up comedy over ten years ago; from playing to surly bikers in the backwoods bars of Seattle, to debuting his feature film, Los Enchiladas!, at the Sundance Film Festival last year. Today he is one of the most sought after performers in the business. Does he still hit rough spots? "Oh yeah," he sighs over the phone, recalling a recent incident in the Cayman Islands. "I go on stage, and my first joke don't work, which is always a bad time. So I keep going on, and I know the show is spinning out of control, so all I can really do is try to remain likeable, 'cause if they're not gonna laugh at me, I don't want 'em to hate me too. The bad shows are the ones where I just try to grin and bear it." Although the tinted sunglasses, lengthy bangs, and perpetually sealed eyelids contribute to his overall slacker presence, these devices perform a larger, more considerable function: to protect Mitch Hedberg from his audience. "I just don't like to look at the faces," he explained in a recent interview. "The back of my eyelids are nonjudgmental." One could argue that Hedberg has an almost unhealthy obsession with the disposition of his audience; it is only when his listeners become inert and apathetic that his cool onstage presence begins to falter. Even in those rare instances when a joke falls flat, however, Hedberg's profusely mumbled apologies will usually manage to garner a smile. In fact, overall honesty, genuine amiability, and a sincere eagerness to please are the driving forces behind Hedberg's routine. Like Steven Wright and, to a lesser extent, Jerry Seinfeld, Hedberg's act consists primarily of concise, philosophical musings on the incongruities of everyday life and the absurdity of being human. "I think everyone is an individual," Hedberg tells me over the phone, "and if you just take what happens in real life and embellish it, you're gonna have an original act. My present theme is just the humiliation of being a human being; just being human, you run into situations that are profound or embarrassing, and I just try to talk about my experiences of being human." Hedberg is currently finalizing a standup concert film shot in his home state of Minnesota, developing projects with znet.com and Comedy Central, and touring the country with his wife Lynn Shawcroft, an advancing stand-up comedian originally from Toronto. "We tour the country producing our own shows, aptly titled 'Mitch Hedberg and Friends," he writes in an email. "We'd like to rent a Winnebago and rock the summer with this." Groovy, man. Until then, Mitch will be appearing this Thursday through Sunday at Joker's Comedy Club. Another Ehren Katzur Production © 2000