It was a heck of an April Fool's Day stunt, but it's no joke. Big Daddy Tazz has pulled off the mother of all stand-up comedy routines -- 8 hours, 30 minutes -- and earned himself a new nickname in the process: Marathon Man of Mirth.
His first order of business after dethroning Dane Cook, the Hollywood comic who set the record (six hours, 12 minutes) on Jan. 2?
Winnipeg's Big Daddy Tazz delivered eight hours and 30 minutes of non-stop jokes Tuesday to sets a Guiness world record for standup comedy.
Bathroom break.
"I'm very emotional right now," the Winnipeg comic said at the Gas Station Theatre, which saw a steady crowd of between 80 and 200 spectators.
"The crowd was 100 per cent what got me through it," Tazz said. "I can't believe how many people were here and how many stayed."
Armed with only a microphone and a computer serving as a teleprompter and fuelled by two cans of Red Bull, a slice of pizza and half a banana, Tazz relied on 15 years worth of material -- and his supporters -- to reach his goal.
Key among the latter was his 13-year-old son, Josh.
"He did great," said Josh, who occupied a front-row seat from 1:30 p.m. until the 5:30 curtain call. "I knew he could do it the whole time."
Tazz, who took the stage at 9 a.m. this morning, admits there were moments of doubt.
"I thought right from Minute One that I'd better learn to play to five people," he says. "I always have a little panic attack before I hit the stage, but this was huge."
The funnyman, who bills himself as the Bipolar Buddha, never even touched on his trademark humorous insights into mental illness -- including six suicide attempts -- until well after comedy-fest director and CBC regular Al Rae appeared onstage to flash the "8 hours" placard.
"I can't remember my bipolar stuff," Tazz cracked, "how funny is that?"
Up to that point, he delivered a dizzying array of signature non-sequiturs that ran the gamut from old guys and nose hair ("they look like they just snorted a schnauzer") to the depressive tendencies of "bipolar bears" and the need to de-ice both airplanes and flight attendants. Of course, no Big Daddy Tazz routine is complete without a mental-health reminder to "give stigma a bad name."
When asked to describe how it feels to hold the endurance record for spreading laughter, the Bipolar Buddha gets uncharacteristically quiet.
"Satisfied," he says softly. "Very, very at peace."
carolin.vesely@freepress.mb.ca
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