
Relax. It's good. You're doing fine.
It's the mantra of stand-up Tom Papa -- and just what some folks may need to hear during these tense times. The producers at "Prairie Home Companion" seem to agree. They've booked the comedian for this Saturday's show at The Fitzgerald, just a week after he performed two shows in the state.
"How badly did you want to cancel?" said the 48-year-old comic Friday night after blowing kisses to the packed house at the Woman's Club of Minneapolis.
Not that badly. Papa may be best known as one of Jerry Seinfeld's best bros, but he's a clever, quick-witted performer all on his own. His non-political slant on the world (he didn't mention Donald Trump once) offers a much-needed pause from the stream of enraged posts filling up your Twitter account.
Papa gets it. He knows his role: Remind your fans that no matter how emotionally charged the news may get, we're all still the same schlubs who, deep down inside, want to blow off date night, go home and take off our pants.
"I'm just aggravated that we have to pay attention," said Papa in one of his rare acknowledgements of the ever-changing headlines. "I don't have time to take on another activity."
Papa's people are busy. They are the dude who works in a pipe, existing on hot dogs from 7-11; the Costco regular who can't afford to shop for conflict-free M&Ms, the woman hijacked by her family for a morning-TV makeover that she really doesn't want. His hero's dream: retiring to a crummy beach, making bagels before sunrise.
Papa doesn't do impersonations in the traditional sense. But with a subtle change in posture, and a slight change in tone, he captures the working-class American in ways that TV sitcoms so often try, and fail, to do.