I recently spoke with Suzi Chicago, a 70-year-old San Diego–based comedian who started stand-up just a year ago after a career in the knife business, film costuming, and art. She’s already performed over 100 times, is booked regularly, and is shooting her first special this February.
Source: Suzi Chicago
How did you get into comedy at age 70?
I told this [business] group that if I could do any job now, I’d be a stand-up comedian. That was my mistake—they listened. Their gift to me was ten minutes at a comedy club that night. I said, ‘But I don’t have an act!’ and they said, ‘Yes you do. You’ve been making us laugh all weekend.’ I didn’t bomb. I did really well. And once that bug bit me… that was the beginning of the end.
What’s it like starting comedy later in life?
Some days I think I must be delusional starting this at my age, but I’m having a ball. I work hard. I’ve been on stage over a hundred times this past year. I’m booked every weekend, and in February I’m shooting a special. When you’re 70, we’re not waiting 20 years for that special. I get on stage and tell people, ‘This is not a silver alert, don’t worry, I know where I am.'
How do younger comedians respond to you?
I love my 30-year-old comedians. My peers want to talk about their medical charts...I don’t want to hear that. I want to hear about the crazy stuff the younger comics are doing. I say, ‘Tell me about your drug experiences.’ One of them said, ‘I have a whole bucket of ketamine.’ I was like, ‘Really? A bucket?’ I’m the grandma in the room, but I’m not shy. Nothing scares me anymore. Drop me out of a plane, I’ll do it.
Do you feel like older people get underestimated in comedy?
People think old people aren’t funny. They have no idea, I have stories that 20-year-olds can’t even imagine. I’ve worked in movies, advertising, art, business…I have lived a lot of lives. That’s material. When they see me on stage, they don’t expect what’s coming. I say, ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t a wellness check. I came here on purpose.'
What’s your relationship like with the comedy world now?
I started out doing open mics anywhere: sandwich shops, whatever. Now I’m pickier. I get paid, even if it’s a pittance, and every time I do a show, I get four more inquiries afterward. I’ve been in business a long time. I tell young comedians: if you don’t have a card or a sticker on you after a show, you’re a moron. This is your job. You want to get booked. My friends all cheer me on. And my grandson is introducing me in my special as ‘my Grandma Fun-Fun.’ I gave him five dollars the first time he called me that. I wanted to reinforce the behavior.
People think old people aren’t funny. They have no idea, I have stories that 20-year-olds can’t even imagine. I’ve worked in movies, advertising, art, business…I have lived a lot of lives. That’s material. When they see me on stage, they don’t expect what’s coming. I say, ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t a wellness check. I came here on purpose.'