Grandma’s Basement Comedy Club Eulogy #5 – by Kevin Hall
One of our favorite comedy clubs in Boston will be closing its doors in a few short days. As such, we’re having a few comedians write eulogies about their beloved, Grandma(‘s Basement Comedy Club.) This is the 5th…
I’ve never written a eulogy before. I’ve written collegiate papers about werewolf misogyny, short stories about homeless maniacs getting hit by drunk drivers, and a staggering amount of poems about girls. But never a eulogy. So here we go.
I started going to Grandma’s in 2010, my sophomore year of college. I was less than a year into standup, but I was hungry for more places to perform. I went because I wanted a place other than the basement of Roggie’s to yell at people about strippers, New Jersey and my virginity. I went because Ryan “Hacksaw” O’Flanagan said it would be a good time and I believed him.
I remember countless Thursdays dashing off the Green Line at Kenmore to try to make the mic on time, only to show up and sign up 20th or worse.
I remember forming friendships with so many good people, people I have the great pleasure of knowing to this day.
Grandma’s is where I first heard Steve McConnon’s epic tale about the chicken parm sandwich, and where I heard him say the word squirrel countless times like only a true, purebred Bostonian could. Grandma’s was a safe haven, run by comedians for comedians. Grandma’s truly helped define my college experience. Boston College, for as great a school as it is, doesn’t have fraternities, but the friendships I formed in the lounge at Hojos transcended any fraternal bond I could possibly make. We were a group of joke-slingers, a community of open mic warriors chasing a dream. Grandma’s gave us hope we could reach that dream one day.
I’m glad I introduced so many of my friends, both comics and non-comics, to Grandma’s Basement. The place has a palpable charm, and I’m glad it was such an important part of my life. Boylston Street is losing a landmark.
