Patrice O’Neal and the 29-year-old Baby

After suffering a stroke two months ago, stand-up comedian Patrice O’Neal has died at the age of 41.

I’m a baby in stand-up comedy. I got up on stage and told jokes once in college, bombed in the span of three minutes, then didn’t do it again until nearly ten years later, this past July to be exact. I’ve just started the transition from open mics to actual for real gigs.

Unfortunately, I’ll never get to meet and thank Patrice O’Neal.

I first saw him years ago when he appeared as a regular panelist on the short-lived “Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn” on Comedy Central. Something about him struck me immediately, though I didn’t get a chance to see him do actual stand-up until I happened upon a special on Comedy Central several years later.

Bottom line: he was just funny. Period. It seemed effortless. I don’t have to tell you that it wasn’t, and never is. On close examination I realized that O’Neal’s gift – and what every stand-up comic should take with them – is that comedy isn’t just words.

Take his bit about spelling the word “restaurant”:

If I were to transcribe it, you’d be mildly amused at best. But everything Patrice does here is funny. His mannerisms, facial expressions, change of inflection, range of emotion, and even subtle hand gestures. O’Neal put everything into his performance, and it showed in how astoundingly hilarious it was.

With Patrice, I learned that I could do this, I just needed the courage to do it and the knowledge that it’s a lot of work and crafting a set isn’t just what deciding what bits go where and with what words.

Just a few weeks ago I was writing a bit that made me think of Patrice, because it was all in the delivery. In fact I almost scrapped it completely because I was worried I was going to start talking like him. Which is ridiculous, because there can’t be another Patrice O’Neal. Not even if someone tried.

It’s taken years – YEARS – for me to get the courage to finally do something that’s been gnawing at me for some time. It’s a fire that’s grown from a spark that hit just a few months ago, but the timber’s been there for some time. I won’t say he was an idol or an inspiration, because that might ring hollow even if partially true. But I can say, definitively, that amongst that timber was Patrice, and I and so many other comedians – whether they realize it or not – owe him a debt of gratitude.

It’s a sad day, and I regret that I won’t ever see the man in person. But I’m glad he lived and told jokes and shit.