Anonymous asked: I'm in my school's improv club and I wanted to know some really good tips on improv because I don't think I'm necessarily the best improver out there any advice?

Thanks for the question. I’d be happy share some improv tips with you. For anyone who isn’t interested in improv, this might get a little technical and boring. Now might be a good time to check out The Daddy Complex. Tell him I sent you.

I’ll skip all the usual tips and tricks you’ll hear in your “Beginner’s Improv” classes or read in your “Improv for Dummies” books and go right to something that took me several years to learn and after 11 years I still need to be reminded of it from time to time.

EVERYTHING YOU DO IS RIGHT, SO DON’T HESITATE AND JUST DO IT. 

Early on in my improv career I would always hesitate to play certain types of characters. Doctors, rocket scientists, or basically anyone who should know stuff that I didn’t know (which is a lot). I would also get really caught up in the format and worry about “messing up” the game or scene. I was worried about making mistakes. So I stuck to playing characters I knew, which was….”dumb college guy”. And that’s really boring.

I can only vaguely remember what caused my epiphany, but I believe it was when I played a scene as a surgeon, and rather than hesitate or hedge around the terminology, I dove right in and said whatever I could think of as if that is exactly what a surgeon would say. Whatever it is that I said, it was all completely wrong. It wasn’t even close to sounding like medical terms or something that could conceivably be construed as surgical procedures. But I said and did it all with the same conviction as someone who had gone to medical school for 16 years (I don’t even know how long they go to school).

The result was that the scene was hilarious. And this taught me something valuable. Every character you play, you should play them at the top of their intelligence. If you are a surgeon and performing a procedure, it might be funny to play the bumbling idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing. But that laugh will come and go and then you won’t have much more to play with. But if you play that character like he knows what he is doing and he’s the alpha male in the room, you will have a much richer character to develop.

Then, if your scene partners are any good at all, they will say Yes And (see Beginner’s Improv 101 for more details) to whatever you say and your crazy doctor character really will know what he is doing within the reality that you and your scene partners have created.

But the most important result of all this is that because you aren’t worried about being wrong or making mistakes, you won’t be hesitating. Hesitating leads to thinking. Thinking leads to planning. Planning leads to fear. Fear leads to the dark side…sorry…I went all Yoda on you there.

So there you have it. Don’t hesitate, because no matter what you do, it’s the right thing.

If you have more questions, I’d love to answer them. Click on the “contact” button on the side of the main page and send me an email.

Oh…and work on your pantomiming. I can’t stand watching improvisers pull objects out of thin air or walk through desks that their scene partners created earlier in the scene. That just bums me out.

What is Improvising Fatherhood?

I have to start this post by apologizing to two people. First to the anonymous person who submitted a question about what Chandler’s favorite toys are, and second to fellow Tumblr-er nicodemehedo who says IF “has kind of stopped being a parenting blog.”

First things first. An anonymous inquisitor asked

Does Chandler like the tent/tunnel/balls thing that you got him? I’m thinking of getting one for my daughter’s 1st birthday. If not, what are some of his favorite toys?

Chandler does like the Ball Tent quite a bit. He specifically likes sitting in the middle of the balls and having them pushed all around him by Mom or Dad. Also, for a while we took the Tent down and just left the tunnel sitting out in the middle of our kitchen. Every now and then he would tumble on through it as if he had decided to take the scenic route.

Another one of Chandler’s favorite toys right now is his blue car. He LOVES cruising for chicks in it. Other than that, Chandler is generally enamored with any toy that makes noise, and just about anything that has a tag on it. He loves tags.

Chandler also likes playing with Mommy’s face. Lately he has been doing this thing where he will grab her face and make her look at him, and then release her and go about his business. So if you don’t have a face, I highly recommend getting one. (If you actually don’t have a face, I am REALLY sorry for that crass joke.)

If you are thinking about getting the Ball Tent for your daughter’s 1st birthday, I support that decision. Also, do you have entertainment for her 1st birthday? If not I’ve got another recommendation to make.

Hope that answers your question.

Okay, now on to the second issue at hand. Today I saw that my recent post of a picture of Chandler on a dog leash was re-blogged by nicodemehedo. My first thought was, “Yay!” In Tumblr-ville a re-blogging someone’s post is a sign of affection. Then I read the comment on the re-blog.

Putting a leash on your child isn’t parenting. This has kind of stopped being a parenting blog.

So my second thought was, “Huh?” I can’t tell if this blogger is being serious or if they are being playful or something else. But since their blog doesn’t give any options for commenting or contacting them, I thought I would leave my comments here.

As far as leashing your child goes, I’m against it. I actually already talked about this HERE where I say

putting your kid on a leash is really just lazy parenting. If you don’t teach your kids not to run into oncoming traffic, the day that you let your kid off the leash…BAM! Hit by a bus. And then you have to get a new kid.

But I want to address the bigger issue in nicodemehedo’s comment. Improvising Fatherhood has kind of stopped being a parenting blog. Actually, Improvising Fatherhood is not a parenting blog. It’s a blog about a parent. It’s a comedy blog.

I’m a comedian. I’m a writer. And I’m a father. When I became a father my entire perspective on life was altered. Comedians are always looking for “material” to talk about. When I became a father I suddenly had a whole new world of material to discuss. This blog is dedicated to that world.

So Improvising Fatherhood is a blog and it most often talks about parenting. Oddly enough, I know a lot of people who are not parents, and yet they love the blog too. Improvising Fatherhood is not a parenting blog. It’s a funny blog that parents can relate to.

Improvising Fatherhood is my sense of humor through the lens of being a father. I hope you like it.

UPDATE: Nicodemehedo just sent me this message.

The “This has kind of stopped being a parenting blog” comment was intended to be facetious. I’m sorry that it didn’t translate in the text. My bad. :x

Thanks Nico for your response. I’m glad to know you still like IF. And either way, I was happy to have your comment spark that post. By the way, has anyone ever told you that you write like Kurt Vonnegut? :)

Fatherhood: This thing is forever

Today’s edition of Father Knows Best? coincides nicely with a post that I have been trying to write for a while. So thank you very much to Sarah, for submitting the following question.

Love the blog :) I just wanted to know, what do you think has been the single biggest change in your life since becoming a father? (Apart from the small person who seems to follow you around for most of the day, of course.)

Thanks Sarah, and great question.

Early on in my career as a father I had this revelation, and recently when I received an email from my father about my recent trip to the dentist, I was reminded of the fact that fatherhood is forever. FOREVER.

I think the first time I thought of this was after a day or so of having Chandler and realizing there was never going to be any “downtime” anymore. I remember I started mapping out the next few days in my mind trying to figure out where the next break would be. There wasn’t one.

My mind continued down the path envisioning weeks, months, and years ahead. And it dawned on me. This whole fatherhood thing is never going to end.

Ashley and I have already agreed that we are going to firmly nudge our little baby bird out of the nest when he’s 18. But even then, as evidenced by my father’s recent email, it’s never really over.

From a writer’s perspective I thought, “Jackpot!” I’ve got a constant flow of material to write. But as a guy who likes his free time every once and a while, I thought, “Gulp.”

It’s not that I don’t love all the time I spend with Chandler. And I am definitely looking forward to our life together. But who in their right mind says, “You know what I’d like to do? I’d like to spend the next 10 years or so constantly watching over someone else. I’d like to never have a moment to myself again.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but when you’re a parent it doesn’t feel like one. You see, having a kid is like getting a tattoo. It hurts when you first get it, but you want to show it to everyone. At first you are so excited about it that you just can’t stop looking at it. But then one day as you are staring at it you realize, “I am going to have this forever.” And children are even harder to remove than tattoos, because people will judge you. Also, as you get older that tattoo becomes less and less cute.

The thing is, that tattoo might be kind of embarrassing in certain situations (after all, it’s unicorn being ridden by a shirtless gnome, right?) but that tattoo will carry a lot of great memories. Even though you joke about having it removed, you never will. In fact, you’re thinking of getting another one to go with it.

So, to answer your question, the biggest change in my life has been that I’m getting a tattoo of a shirtless gnome riding a unicorn. Don’t tell my wife.

My dad is drinking my college fund

Dear PepsiCo, Inc,

I am writing to you today to plead my case. Ever since I was born I have noticed that my father is almost always holding a glass, bottle, or can of a mysterious green beverage. I have since learned this mystery drink is your product, Mt. Dew.

My dad is constantly drinking Mt. Dew. All those cans of Dew have got to add up. I haven’t been keeping track since I was born, but I started a few days ago and I have to say his results are impressive. I am 5 months old, and from here on out I am going to track each and every Mt. Dew my dad drinks and keep a running tally of how much he spends. You can follow along on my twitter feed @mtdewtracker or see it right here on the side of my dad’s stupid blog.

So here’s my proposal. My dad has obviously been drinking this much Mt. Dew all his life. He’s a great customer for you. And your whole theme is about being “extreme!” and if any parent exhibits “Extreme Parenting” it’s my father. I’ve got the bumps to prove it. My dad would be a perfect spokesperson for Mt. Dew.

If you give my dad a lifetime supply of Mt. Dew, the money he saves by the time I’m 18 could easily put me through college. Please, I’m begging you. Don’t let my father drink my education away.

Thank you.

Chandler Smith

Being a dad: Play the character smart

In improv a good rule of thumb is to play each of your characters to the top of their intelligence. Improvisers are called on to play a variety of roles and most of the time the characters they take on have occupations the performer has no experience in. I play doctors all the time on stage, yet I’ve never been to medical school. In fact, I’ve only been to a doctor a few times in my life and I never watch Grey’s Anatomy. My only real experience with the medical world is the movie Patch Adams.

Early on in my improv career I played a lot of dumb doctors. I didn’t know any of the medical terms or how to do a double bypass elbow surgery, so neither did my doctor character. I’d get a few chuckles, mostly for my physical humor, but I wasn’t getting the most out of my character.

At some point I was taught by my wise improv elders to “play the character smart.” I was instantly apprehensive about this idea since I am as they say “not the brightest rocket science in the shed.” Is that what they say? Anyway, the point is I was unsure I could pull off a smart doctor character. But I tried it anyway. And what I found is that as I said things like, “Nurse, hand me the spine removal kit” in my most confident voice I was getting more and more laughs. Because a spine removal kit doesn’t really exist. But I asked for it as if it did and refused to let anyone in the scene question my judgement. After all, I was the doctor. I went to 22 years of medical school. It’s 22, right?

This really opened up a lot of characters to me. Now that I could talk about any subject I want as an authority, even though I didn’t know what I was actually talking about. I could play a whole new array of characters. I could be a geneticist, a bee keeper, or even a Fox News Anchor.

So how does this relate to being a dad? I take this same mentality into my parenting. Let’s face it, I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m really doing. I’m just making this all up as I go. But rather than act like I don’t know what to do, I put on my best doctor character and play the smartest dad I can.

“He’s going to need a pacifier STAT. It has to be taken orally.”

“Oh he’s crying, eh? You’re going to want to rattle him. Never shake the baby. But give him a light rattling.”

(author’s note: I didn’t think ‘rattling’ was a word but I gave it a shot, and according to the spell check…it is!)

Playing your Dad character at the top of his intelligence will benefit you in a lot of ways. For instance when you and all the other dads are sitting in the viewing room during swim class you can spout off information about how babies can naturally float because they are descendant from dolphins.

You can do a similar thing when you go to music class. You can tell everyone your child has natural rhythm because his great great grandfather on his mother’s side was a drum.

As you can see, I am currently putting this theory into action by writing this article as smartly as I can. Okay, now I have to go watch the movie Young Einstein with my son. They say if you watch that with your child everyday he will grow up to be a genius.

Will Chandler play football?

There’s an ongoing debate in our house about Chandler’s future. We know this is a long ways off, but Ashley and I are still hashing out the details now. One detail is whether or not Chandler will play football when he is older.

Ashley (and her mother) has taken the very cliche, normal, and understandable position of “I don’t want my little baby to get hurt.” I of course get that. At times I will act tough and then when I see Chandler bump his head and cry I rush to his aid immediately. But I have always been very stern about the fact that we are not going to raise our son to live a sheltered life. Ashley agrees with me on this stance, although there are times when she needs my reinforcement. Because let’s face it, it’s hard to watch your little baby endure pain and hardship.

Most fathers would take cliche postition of “My son is going to be a big, tough, athletic, all american, star.” They’d want their son to play football because it’s what boys do. Just watch the movie Varsity Blues and you’ll have some idea of what I’m talking about. (Also, that James Van Der Beek is so dreamy)

I however, have a slightly different line of reasoning. Looking back on my childhood, it was all about sports and competition. I played every sport I could get into. Baseball, Basketball, Soccer (indoor and outdoor), and even Racquetball. Sports were my life.

Then the fall of my 7th grade year my dad got the crazy notion that I should take on yet another sport. Football.

Football?

Something my father always taught me was that you can’t let fear control you. Fear can never be a factor in your decision making. When Dad first asked me if I wanted to try playing Football, it scared me. So I said okay. For the next six years I played football and experienced a lot of pain and even more fear. I can honestly say now that of all the life lessons I learned from sports and competition, I learned the greatest ones from my time playing Football.

I wasn’t great at Football. I eventually got good at aspects of the game, but my high school coach summed it up best when he told me, “Nate, you’re small…but you’re slow.” He made a really good point. Anyone else on the field who was as small as me was known for being lighting fast. The only thing I really had going for me was I had great hands. I could catch any pass thrown anywhere near me. But then I was pretty much dead in the water. Sometimes it looked like I was actually running in water.

Needless to say, I got hit. A lot. And it hurt. I remember on one particularly cold day getting hit so hard that snot splattered all over the inside of my face mask. I thought to myself, “So that’s what it’s like to get the snot knocked out of you!”

Every practice was riddled with fear. I was kind of the team tackling dummy. It wasn’t until my fourth season of playing football that I started to conquer this fear. It still took a mental effort to prepare myself for the beating I was about to receive, but now I could handle it. I was still afraid, but rather than flinch and avoid the contact, I ran right at my opponents. I faced my fears head on.

This was the most valuable lesson I could have ever learned. I also learned how to fold my body like an origami bird. Then in my senior year I learned the second most valuable lesson of my sports career. During sports camp I had a knee injury that was supposed to keep me off the field the entire season.

This injury rocked my world. I went from thinking I was invincible to feeling fragile. In all my years playing Football and every other sport, I never once was injured. I took hard hits and big falls but I always bounced right back up. On the Football field I played my own little game, trying to make sure I always got up before the guy who hit me. No matter how brutal the hit was I wanted it to look like nothing had happened at all.

This time I couldn’t get up.

Now all that fear that I had spent so much time conquering came swarming back into my head. Nevertheless, I fought back. The doctor said I wouldn’t be able to play by the end of the season. He didn’t think I’d even be walking before our last game. I didn’t listen to that. I was back on the field and fully game ready halfway through the season.

Since then I have re-injured that same knee five times. Each time while playing a sport. Each time I healed faster than before and refused to let it deter me from getting back on the field.

And that is why I want Chandler to play Football. It actually doesn’t have to be Football. But I want him to do something in his life that scares him. I want him to feel that fear and then feel what it is like to overcome it.