Comic Simon Ramsden decides not to tone down his material

'Never compromise, not even in the face of Armageddon.' Those words straight from the pages of the graphic novel, Watchmen, rolled around in my undecided head. Ok, the situation before me wasn’t quite Armageddon. But, I did face the toughest decision of my fairly infantile comedy career…

Do I water down my set for THIS audience?

The audience looked no different to any of the previous audiences I’d encountered. All adults. Most of them were enjoying an alcoholic beverage. All enjoying the other comedians that had performed in the last hour. The main difference with these faces… I recognised them.

My mum, dad, brother, sister, mother in-law, father in-law, uncles, aunts… it felt like a family reunion. I was previously aware that so many family members would be in attendance on the night – I just hadn’t prepared myself for the overriding sense of fear and self-doubt.

I’ve been performing stand-up for around 20 months, and at a fairly regular rate. I’ve had a decent start and I’m beginning to think it’s something I’d like to do on a full-time basis in the future. However, I’d never performed in front of any family members previously.

I’m a slightly overweight, gay Yorkshireman. Most of my material plays on the contrasts between my working class upbringing in Rotherham, and my lifestyle of a 20-something, gay man living in a big city. My material mocks a lot of the gay stereotypes, and I’m usually the butt of the joke.

I ran over my set, over and over again, in my head…

'Maybe I should skip the joke about my parents discovering I was gay, by catching me having oral sex with Henry… the hoover.'

I looked over at my dad from the wings and felt certain I should avoid any uncomfortable jokes, which would make it difficult for him to sit through. Bin the joke about Grindr, get rid of the whole section about the gay football team I play for… definitely avoid the story entitled, Back, Sack and Crack.

And it wasn’t just the jokes about myself that I had begun to strip away. In previous months I’d received a great response to a story about my mum. It was a true story about her improvising with a shoe box, while stranded and desperate for the toilet on the hard shoulder. Mum can be a good sport, but would it be fair to tell the story in her presence? Most certainly not – cancel that joke!

I looked at my amended set list and realised my originally planned 30-minute set, would probably struggle to fill the length of time it takes to play Robin Thicke’s Greatest Hits.

I caught a glimpse of my brother laughing at the act on stage. In years gone by he’s taken to referring to me as ‘Rodders’ (Only Fools and Horses), and that’s when the words of Mr Derek Trotter rang out loud and clear: ‘He who dares wins!’A saying so true and inspiring, that apparently the SAS adopted it from Del Boy.

I waited for my queue and I marched on to the stage, proud and certain of the material I’d lovingly written and enjoyed performing on so many occasions. Because surely comedy is about being true to yourself. It’s saying to an audience: This is me. Take it or leave it.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I never flinched, I never held back. I loved every minute of it – and thankfully so did my family. The night was a great success and I felt overjoyed that I’d held my nerve and done myself proud.

And that’s the message I’m trying to make. Be true to yourself and never, ever, compromise.

Published: 4 Jul 2014