That's Funny

"Senior citizens. People say they don't know how to drive. You think it's so easy to maneuver a car on the sidewalk?"

--Jack Rothman, 78, Los Angeles

Like many retirees, Jack Rothman, a former professor of public affairs at UCLA, devotes himself to a favorite activity in his senior years. But Rothman's is not one of the customary retirement pastimes--not golf or travel or genealogy or a reading club. No, Rothman's pursuit is a lot more laughs than those, but it's also more difficult and, to some, much scarier. It's stand-up comedy.

Rothman's performing instincts blossomed when his three children gave him a gift certificate for stand-up-comedy classes on his 75th birthday. In May, after taking part in contests and open-mike nights, Rothman and two acquaintances formed a trio called Baby Boomers Plus. So far, they have played three shows before community and social-service groups like the American Red Cross. They charge $300 to appear, and each of the three does a few minutes of jokes based on his or her life experiences. Says Rothman: "I just love doing this, and I feel like we're giving back to the community in our own way."

Rothman may be offbeat in his choice of avocation, but he is not alone. A growing number of seniors across the nation are taking the plunge into stand-up comedy. They are attending comedy workshops, performing in the open-mike circuits in their regions and even getting paying gigs at clubs, conventions and nonprofit organizations. Managers, club owners and comedy instructors estimate that the phenomenon has grown 25% to 50% in the past five years.

What's behind it? A turbulent world that needs some making fun of, the inspiration of new comic venues like cable TV's Comedy Central Network, the increased time that seniors have in their lives to explore passions and hobbies, and a sense of not caring what others think and of doing their own thing that characterizes the baby-boomer mind-set.

"Comedy is tragedy plus time. These funny people have a lifetime of things to say and are enough distance away from any pain to talk about it," says Judy Carter, a Los Angeles comic, comedy teacher and author of Comedy Bible: From Stand-Up to Sitcom--The Comedy Writer's Ultimate "How To" Guide.

Among those who have taken to the stage is self-employed life coach Cary Bayer, 52. He performs in the guise of the 4,000-year-old Wise Guy Swami, who offers the audience proverbs and jokes in an Indian accent ("Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach him to fish, give him a lifetime of body odor"). Bayer, who wrote sketch comedy years ago and studied meditation with an Indian guru, found in his late 40s that he could crack up people at parties with his swami witticisms. He took a chance on open-mike nights near his two homes, in Woodstock, N.Y., and Hillsboro Beach, Fla., and now he performs once a month at clubs and private parties for $100 to $200 a gig. "This gives me a sense of exhilaration, to be able to make a roomful of people laugh," says Bayer. "And it's good for you. Look how long comedians like George Burns lived."