After I applied to audition in Tacoma recently, I got a real telephone call from America’s Got Talent. The person on the line wanted to make sure that I would actually show up and I said I intended to be there in the afternoon with bells on. My daughter is like her mother in not being able to find her way out of a paper bag as they say. She Googled Map Quest and soon we were pulling up in front of the entrance devoid of any line at all since most of the auditioners had come early in the morning. We entered by the front door, were patted down by security while I muttered something about feeling like an escaped convict.

Finding our way to the third floor we were met by a long line of seated contestants ready to go into one of the audition rooms. Several young girls with marvelous cleavage were in costume and looking nervously about. I said something to the effect of “Wow, great cleavage. I would show mine if it wasn’t so wrinkled.” But we couldn’t linger as we were motioned into the huge waiting room until my number was called. Can you believe? My number was 768, the very number on the house where I was born in Chehalis. I took this to be a good omen so instead of sitting and worrying, I walked all around the big ballroom sized waiting area and struck up conversations with everyone I met. There were groups of dancers, close formation drill teams and so many guitar players that I was glad that I was one of the few standup comics.
My suspicion that my special phone call was to assure that I would be available for a video interview was correct. After all, I am the oldest person auditioning this
year. Last year the oldest comic got to level six of the competition. I thought to myself, “All I want is to perform at the Paramount Theater in Seattle.” But just as I was thinking this the interviewer asked me, “Do you dream of having your own show in Las Vegas?” I replied, “That would be nice but I have already had a 70 minute show right here in Seattle.” Then the big question: What would you do with the prize money if you won? In my usual comic style I replied, “At my age I would probably save it for a nursing home!”

Oh, oh, they are calling all numbers from 700 and above. My daughter sent me off to my audition room with, “Go get ‘em, mom.” I was then in a line made up of singers, guitar players and dancers with just two of us comics. Outside the audition room you could cut the tension with a knife as it finally was my turn to do standup before two judges. I looked down and noticed a big X on the floor and remarked, “Guess this is my spot.” One of the judges asked my name and what I was going to do and then said “Let’s see your act.” Wow, I stood there without a big audience and no laughter emanating from any part of the room. All I could do was pretend that I was in my more comfortable space at the Seattle Comedy Underground with laughter washing over me as I began “Howdy everyone. I’m so glad to be here. I would be glad to be anywhere at age 90.” My 90 seconds were soon over and I was being told, “We will let you know within two weeks if you make it to the next level.”

It was a thrill to be offered the chance to audition even though I didn’t make it to the next stage. There is still a possibility that some of my interview will be aired as they use these interviews as background for the show so keep tuned. And I can still be seen on the comedy stage at Seattle Comedy Underground occasionally and do comedy for local groups as well.

Georgie Bright Kunkel is a freelance writer, public speaker, standup comic, jazz singer and piano player, and Rosie the Riveter who can be reached at gnkunkel@comcast.net or 206-935-8663.