Comedian Cox makes light of health issues
Saskatchewan standup reboots career for the ‘honour to make somebody laugh’
If somebody is trying to keep Bryan Cox down, they’ve picked the wrong standup.
Despite a litany of health issues, the comedian is back on stage after a decade, finding humour in the world around him and in his own struggle to keep the brief candle flickering.
“It’s such an honour to make somebody laugh and have them shake your hand at the end of the night,” says Cox.
He got hooked early when he auditioned for the Blue Garter Saloon at Pion-Era in Saskatoon. He was only 12 but he had a roster of vocal impressions and jokes.
“I got most of my material out of Reader’s Digest,” he laughs.
After high school in Saskatoon and Regina, he started a career in radio. Even today, decades upon decades later (Cox calls himself Saskatchewan’s oldest living comedian), he lends his deep voice to commercial work and voice-overs.
“After I left radio I wanted to work for a non-profit, so I became a comedian. The non-profit thing is working out really well.”
His voice could have been silenced by any one of the medical crises he’s been through. Years ago, some smart-aleck fan tripped him coming offstage, causing him to break his neck. The surgery would have ruined his voice box unless they could find a left-handed neurosurgeon (he swears this is true). They did.
Later, a sore in his mouth turned out to be oral cancer. They removed one quarter of his tongue
BRYAN COX opening for Ben Proulx 8:30 p.m., Jan. 27 Ramada Plaza
and he had to learn to speak again. Flu and pneumonia led to a diagnosis of leukemia, which Cox is living with.
“It’s like having a little suicide bomber moving around your body,” he quips.
Luckily, that’s all. No, wait. There was also the heart attack. A stent and ‘cardioversion’ were the treatments there.
“It’s kind of like having a Windows 8 heart, I need rebooting,” Cox says.
Eventually, he felt well enough to reboot his comedy career. He started modestly, with five-minute bits at local open mic nights.
It was nerve-racking, he says, but watching the other comedians gave him confidence.
Eventually, he built up a 30-minute routine. Now he’s got an opening slot at The Laugh Shop in the Ramada Plaza.
“I talk about having cancer and I talk about a broken neck and getting older,” he says.
There’s no looking back for Cox, no regret or self-pity. What he feels is gratitude in being allowed to make a group of people gathered in the dark smile.
“I wish I could help people by being a doctor or something, but I can’t. This is the only thing that I’m basically a little bit good at. I can bring a smile to somebody’s face. I think we’re all given one gift, and that’s mine.”