It’s Monday night at 6 p.m. and Derek Humphrey is ready to take the mike in front of a crowd of 20 people at Dardy Bar in Williamsburg. It’s a far cry from his time serving as a Navy petty officer in places like Baghdad, the Suez Canal and Oslo.
Although the 36-year old Flatbush resident also performs in venues like the Upper West Side’s Stand Up NY, that wasn’t always the case. Humphrey gained the confidence to pursue his childhood dream during deployments between 2000 and 2005.
En route to the US after firing some of the first shots during Operation Iraqi Freedom, his shipmates started a talent contest to break up the monotony of being at sea for 90 consecutive days. Although he didn’t initially enter the contest, by the end, everyone started pounding on tables and chanting his name, coaxing him into doing the impressions of crew members he became known for at sea.
“I didn’t intend on entering,” he recalls, “and ended up winning despite going up against people who could actually play an instrument or sing.” Beating out talented peers marked his aha moment: “To come away with a victory was the moment when I thought, ‘Maybe I have something here,’ ” he says.
Turns out, Humphrey’s not alone in pursuing his passion. Although jobs for actors, including comedians, are anticipated to increase by just 4 percent through 2022 — slower than average — comedian David Goldstein says standing out is key for veterans and nonvets alike. “You have to find your own voice in this business if you’re going to be really great,” he explains.
Ten years later, Humphrey has found his voice, as it’s not uncommon to hear Navy jokes sprinkled into his act. “It’s not an explicit goal, but sometimes my experiences bleed into my stories,” he says. Although he currently juggles comedy with managing a wine shop in Columbus Circle, come summer, comedy will become his only income.
Goldstein says Humphrey’s on the right track by consistently honing his craft. The comedian teaches a class to veterans through the Wounded Warrior Project near Madison Square Garden. “Write all the time, because, shockingly, it’s not all gold,” he says, also suggesting landing quality stage time because nothing takes the place of being in front of an audience.
“It takes a long time to noodle around with the right wording and cadence to get a bit to the point that you’re happy with it,” says Goldstein. His advice is the same for veterans and nonveterans: Reach out “relentlessly to anybody and everybody who has a gig available.”
Another veteran, 37-year-old Benari Poulten, has done his share of noodling; he’s loved comedy since he was 3 years old. He’s been deployed three times since 1999 in the US Army Reserve. “If there’s ever a time you need a laugh the most, it’s in a combat zone!” says the master sergeant.
“You’re able to break the ice by using comedy and get to something much deeper,” he says of comedy’s cathartic powers. “Once you can joke about it like a rocket launch, you’re in a safe environment to let your guard down.”
After graduating from Brandeis, he joined the Army Reserve and also started doing stand-up, but kept the two separate; military life didn’t pepper its way into his act until a turning point in Afghanistan.
“One night we were supposed to have a morale-boosting event, like karaoke night on base,” he recalls. Walking over to the tent, one of the rockets launched toward them — his group of soldiers hit the ground and ran into a concrete bunker. “You could be stuck in there for 45 minutes or more. Guys were like, ‘Man, this is my karaoke time.’ We started singing ‘Rocket Man’ by Elton John — that was the moment when I thought, ‘We’re not so different. This is the culmination of everything — comedy and military — the two actually go together more than I thought.’ ”
Pursuing that notion after returning from Afghanistan in 2012, Poulten moved to Los Angeles, worked on screenplays and joined the networking organization, Veterans in Film and Television. He also joined the LA-based troupe the GIs of Comedy and entertained troops around the world. Thanks to maintaining contact within the New York comedy scene for 10 years, Poulten recently landed a job working on the panel segment for “The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore.” While it’s a full-time gig, Poulten does stand-up on nights and weekends when time allows.
Poulten says channeling a dream into paid gigs requires a lot of faith — and credit card debt, patience and sacrifice. “You put your head down, you do your job and hope it works,” he says. “Luckily, you learn to do that well in the Army.”
Sean Lee, an Astoria resident and Marine Corps veteran turned stand-up comedian, also emphasizes persistence — a trait espoused by the armed forces. “Stick with it,” says the 31-year-old. “You’ll find more and more opportunities to make money.” Plus, there are writing jobs, hosting, commercial work, collaborations with comedians — “all potential mines for having a steady income.”
But Goldstein advises comedy warriors to watch their backs. “There may be a sense of family and community in the military, but I wouldn’t say the same thing about comedy,” he cautions. “I have some good friends who are comics, but in general, the business is fairly cutthroat.”
Business aspects aside, crowds can be tough, too — veterans may discover treacherous trenches unwittingly prepared them for surly audiences, says Humphrey. “Making people laugh under those circumstances was a good precursor for the Wall Street crowd on a Tuesday night.”