People watch comedians predominately to laugh.

Some go to heckle while others go to steal material (the amateur circuit is ripe for hearing stolen bits that are badly performed), but the anticipation is laughter. Not just any laughter, but the deep laugh that resonates with the entirety of our own experience. The master comedian knows how to make any experience seem universal, or at the very least, give the audience member a lived experience.

This is what we’re really after when we watch and listen to a comedian. We want to escape to a place where our own lives seem trivial and our experiences are something to laugh about. When a chord strikes deep, the laughter can bring us to tears.

However, we don’t get that laughter unless we have the everyday moments.

The daily ‘grind’ of waking up, getting through our day and making it to the bed at night seem like a waste — a life we never intended for ourselves, even if we worked hard building it. Other times we wonder if this is really it. Secretly, we want to know if there is anybody else out there who relates.

Then, we hear an observation from someone else and we strike those tears of laughter and joy because our existence is theirs… and we are not alone.

This also rings true for tears of sadness.

In both instances, the release is necessary because it’s what connects us.