hey team,

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​I will spend an hour taking an eight-word sentence and making it five.

That’s Jerry Seinfeld talking about working on his standup. An hour. To remove three words.

People always ask me who my favorite speakers are. I think they're expecting to hear me talk about Steve Jobs or Brene Brown. Really though? Nobody does it better than stand-up comedians. And when it comes to stand-up comedians, not many have done it better than Jerry.

Even if they have done it better, it’s doubtful they’ve had the Kobe-like dedication (maybe Kobe had Jerry-like drive, I don’t know), done as much work, or cared about every last detail.

So yeah, couldn’t help but think about all of this seeing Jerry again live, this time at Hayden Homes Amphitheater in Bend last weekend.
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But since I'm, well, me, I couldn't just see Seinfeld. I had to take notes. Here's some of what I picked up on:

Lesson 1: Control Your Environment

I was curious how Jerry would handle an outdoor venue. Outdoors seems bad for a comedian - it's not dark yet, crowd is spread out, lessens the buzz, more distractions, sound disappears.

Jerry’s solution? Strategic restrictions.

Concessions closed at 8:30. Opening act (Mario Joyner) at 8:35. Jerry on stage at 9pm.

I wondered if people would complain about the restrictions. Like, what a control freak. If anything I think the crowd enjoyed them. There was no movement, no shuffling, no distractions.

As speakers, we often accept whatever environment we’re given. Jerry doesn’t. Neither should you. I used to be so nervous just to request something like a lapel mic. Then it occurred to me: my requests were positioning me to succeed. What client wouldn't want that?
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So: Room temperature, lighting, when people grab coffee, where they sit. You have more control than you think. Use it.
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Lesson 2: Match Your Energy to Your Venue

The moment Jerry stepped on stage, something was different. He was speaking much louder than usual, using a “George Costanza is getting marriiieedd!!!” volume, projecting like he was announcing the Mets lineup.

Why? Because outdoor venues drain energy. The laughter gets lost in the open air. Jerry compensated by cranking everything up - overriding what the environment was taking away.

Compare that to opening act Mario Joyner, who delivered his set at normal volume. Good comedian - and I'll forever think "you look good for your size" is an incredible punchline - but you could feel the energy difference.

The same delivery doesn’t work everywhere. Comedy club volume falls flat in an amphitheater. There’s a chance Jerry even made this choice after seeing Joyner perform.

Your boardroom voice won’t work in an auditorium. Your in-person energy won’t translate to virtual. A big stage requires bigger gestures. And so on. Point being: The venue demands adaptation.
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Lesson 3: The Details That Look Natural? They're Pretty Rehearsed

Maybe you were sitting at home last Friday, wondering "hmm...wonder if I know anyone nerdy enough to time how long Seinfeld holds a microphone before he switches hands?"
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You're in luck because you do! Me!

The results actually weren't interesting - mostly I just learned he holds it in his right hand until it gets tired.

But there was one point in the set where a joke required him to move his hands back and forth, side to side. And that meant passing the mic back and forth mid-joke when he needed both hands for a bit.

It looked seamless. But you have to rehearse that. A lot. You can’t just start a gesture and figure out the logistics in real time.

Most speakers don't think about this stuff ahead of time. They figure out their clicker on stage. They discover their mic technique in the moment. They don't know when they'll be on camera and when they'll be off.
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Why assume you'll figure it out on the fly? Just do the work ahead of time. Tape a little X on the boundaries of site lines. Click back and forth, back and forth so you can trust your clicker once you're in front of the real audience. And rehearse your movements to create muscle memory for when it's showtime.
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Lesson 4: Controlled Spontaneity

I've seen Jerry's last four tours. He always ends with Q&A, which feels completely off-the-cuff and generous. Just a friendly comedian taking questions from fans, right?

Sort of, but not really. He's searching for one last bit to close out his set. Comedians always like to end on a high note.
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So when he started by saying he would just take one question, I knew what he actually meant: I'm going to keep taking questions until I get one I can turn into material. ​
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Question one.
​What's your favorite episode of Seinfeld?​
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Then one question turned into two.

What's your favorite movie?​
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Then three: Have you ever gone surfing?

With all of them, he gave short answers, then moved on.

Then someone asked about when he started drinking coffee. Suddenly Jerry had material. He turned it into a full bit to close the show.
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This all looked like improv. But he wasn’t improvising. He was hunting. Waiting for someone to groove him the right pitch.

The audience thinks "he's Jerry Seinfeld, he can make anything funny," but really he’s only swinging at what he knows he can hit out of the park.

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Master of This Domain

Jerry doesn’t need the cash. He’s doing 8,000-seat amphitheaters because he’s obsessed with perfection. Like Kobe practicing free throws after championships, it’s about the craft.

Nobody has put more thought into comedy than this guy. And it shows.
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By the way. If you're worried I spent the whole night taking notes, not enjoying the show? Not true! I loved it. There's something special about seeing comedy with friends - laughing, looking over at your wife laughing, your friends laughing, and none of you realizing how much of that laughter was affected by the comedian committing to his craft

Care about the details. Prep like your reputation depends on it. Your audience feels it even if they can’t explain it.

And that’s gold, Jerry. Gold.
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Speak well, my friends!

Mike

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113 Cherry St #92768, Seattle, WA 98104-2205
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