This video spotlights the journey and comedy of Ian Aber, an Atlanta comedian and co-founder of a local show, chronicling his unique experience being openly gay in the Southern comedy scene. The narrative covers Ian’s personal history, from his challenging childhood in a religious, conservative environment to his two-decade marriage and the complexities of family relationships. Through humor, storytelling, and candid reflection, Ian reveals how he navigates the world of stand-up, grappling with both identity and creative authenticity.
The content becomes especially resonant as Ian discusses the double standards faced by queer comics compared to their straight counterparts, the evolution of Atlanta’s comedy scene towards greater inclusivity, and the personal growth that comes from embracing vulnerability on stage. The video also delves into behind-the-scenes aspects of the comedy business, such as booking, developing material, and the emotional realities of perseverance, rejection, and balancing everyday struggles with performance.
Main takeaways from the video:
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Key Vocabularies and Common Phrases:
1. marginal [ˈmɑːrdʒɪnəl] - (adjective) - Relating to or situated at the edge or margin of something, often used to describe people or groups not in the mainstream or those with less power or representation. - Synonyms: (peripheral, minor, secondary)
The marginal experience of being queer in the South
2. deterrent [dɪˈtɜːrənt] - (noun) - Something that discourages or is intended to discourage someone from doing something. - Synonyms: (hindrance, preventative, obstacle)
As if that was some kind of deterrent.
3. sequestering [sɪˈkwɛstərɪŋ] - (verb / gerund) - The act of isolating or hiding away; in this context, it means to confine or keep apart from others or the mainstream. - Synonyms: (isolating, segregating, separating)
And I did that. I took that advice, and I found that very sequestering because it's like the true audience for comedy doesn't care whether you're gay or straight...
4. explicit [ɪkˈsplɪsɪt] - (adjective) - Stated clearly and in detail, leaving no room for confusion or doubt; sometimes refers to graphic or inappropriate content. - Synonyms: (clear, direct, unequivocal)
If I go up and tell a dating story about me and another man, how is that different from, you know, the straight comics are doing jokes about their dating lives, about their exes, about their wives. If I talk about my corporate queer life in the same way, not anything explicit, just me talking about dating another man is considered dirtier...
5. instrumental [ˌɪnstrəˈmɛntl] - (adjective) - Very important in helping or causing something to happen or be done. - Synonyms: (crucial, vital, essential)
And I think that Ian has really been instrumental here in Atlanta as a booker. Booking gay people.
6. palatable [ˈpælətəbl] - (adjective) - Acceptable or agreeable to the mind or feelings; sometimes literally "pleasant to taste." - Synonyms: (acceptable, agreeable, pleasing)
That which is slightly more palatable to the people of Georgia is that we share DNA and not a deep, undying love for each other.
7. authenticity [ˌɔːθɛnˈtɪsəti] - (noun) - The quality of being real or genuine; true to one's own character or identity. - Synonyms: (genuineness, sincerity, truthfulness)
Stand up works when you're true to yourself and you're honest, and that's how you connect to people.
8. persevere [ˌpɜːrsəˈvɪr] - (verb) - To continue in a course of action or keep going despite difficulty or obstacles. - Synonyms: (persist, endure, continue)
A lot of people who struggle in life end up having to develop a sense of humor to, like, persevere and make their life more enjoyable.
9. contemplative [kənˈtɛm.plə.tɪv] - (adjective) - Given to deep serious thought or reflection. - Synonyms: (thoughtful, reflective, meditative)
And I think that most of what I have to say is positive and empowering and contemplative.
10. alchemist [ˈælkəmɪst] - (noun) - A person who transforms or creates something through a seemingly magical process; originally, a practitioner who tried to turn base metals into gold. - Synonyms: (transformer, magician, creator)
Those are the true alchemists. Right. They turned actual into gold. Like, how did they do that?
11. empowering [ɪmˈpaʊərɪŋ] - (adjective) - Giving power, confidence, or strength to someone. - Synonyms: (encouraging, enabling, uplifting)
And I think that most of what I have to say is positive and empowering and contemplative.
"America's Gay Christian Sweetheart" Comedian Takes the Stage in Atlanta - United States of Comedy
Your next comic is an Atlanta legend. He is the co founder, co producer of this show. Y' all give a lot of noise. Ian Aber. I'm married. I never thought I would be married. I grew up gay in the 80s. So we had other concerns, do you know what I'm saying? Like, you know, not dying of AIDS or getting killed in the streets kind of thing. But what I also didn't know I was gonna have for 22 years, in addition to a happy marriage, is. Is a mother in law. And she is her own kind of AIDS guys. She's more of an AIDS of the spirit than of the physical body. But the bitch weakens me with every interaction. I just want to be clear about that. All this is what I said my album was going to be when I decided I was going to do a new album. And America's Gay Christian Sweetheart. That's what I want to call it. When I came up with that, I was on mushrooms and God came to me in a dream and was like, you're America's Gay Christian sweetheart now. And I was like, well, what does that mean? He goes, I don't know. Figure it out.
Are you buttering each one individually? Yeah, just a little bit. Wow, those are pretty good looking pancakes. And Ian probably told you that we make grilled cheese sometimes for shows. And so we have a show called Sweet Baby Cheeses where mom and I are off on the side of the stage making grilled cheese sandwiches for pretty much the whole show. And it smells so good because you walk into wherever the show is and it just smells like butter. All right, Got bacon, eggs. Okay. The way that I like it. Sadie, do I not get off? No, the pan's hot. And I was. You were like, too slow. And I was like, well, you guessing that it's a hard job. I mean, he gets up almost every night, you know, five nights to seven nights every week, and works and is constantly working on material and working on jokes and editing and writing and rewriting. You know, Ian's been doing comedy for 10 years now.
When he first started, it's hard to get stage time. So when I first started, it was very lonely because it was like, I really didn't have friends in comedy. I spent a lot of time as a child by myself in the mirror doing the monologue from the Tonight show or whatever. That beginning, it reminded me of my childhood. It reminded me of, like, even feeling alone in a group of people. And it's weird because it was, like, comforting. It was like, oh, I'm prepared For this. When I was young, my parents didn't like how I acted all the time. My behavior was being corrected. Don't scream and stop dancing and waving your hands around when you talk. And don't play with Barbie dolls. There was lots of like, my dad objecting to me just existing a lot of times and just being too effeminate. I guess there was a lot of like, don't act gay. Don't act gay. So when I was a kid, I would be like, ah, or whatever. And my dad would just basically get all upset about it. And then he came up with the term flamboyant hand gesture syndrome. So they would call it fahags around the house. And he used to do the thing where I would. Whatever I had just said. He would hold my hands to my side and make me say it again. And then I'd be like, or whatever. We were religious at the time. And so anytime I would act a specific amount of gay, my mom would remind me that gay people, you know, go to hell. As if that was some kind of deterrent. Doing state of has made me sort of reexamine a lot of what happened when I was a kid. A lot of stuff I had blocked out. I love to read the Bible. That usually gets a laugh, but whatever. I love to read the Bible. And not just because it burns my hands, though it is nice to feel something, you know?
When I first started going out, I got such a weird reaction from when I would do the gay stuff that for a couple months I would alternate between. I had that straight set and I would go out one night and I would be like, my wife Debbie. My wife Debbie. And then the next night I would go out and I would do the gay stuff. And after a couple months, a comic pulled me aside and was like, are you gay or are you sure? Which is it? And I was like, oh, well, I'm gay. But like, sometimes it doesn't seem they like the gay stuff. They were like, don't do that. It's better that they just don't like you for being gay than for all of us to be confused as to what's going on.
My favorite Bible quote has got to be Psalms 34. 8, which reads, Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed are he that take refuge deep inside of him. Yeah, I don't know why I like that one. It just kind of speaks to me, you know what I'm saying? Look at their purple flowers. They look so good. See, those are the same things that are by that other melon oh, that fell off. Wouldn't those be pretty? That's a lot of bush for very little flower return. But it's really pretty. Yeah, I like it. Looks good. Very lush. Hey, we're back with another episode of Straight People, the podcast for straight people by queer people. Because straight people don't have, what? Enough. They don't have enough. They control everything, all the resources, all the governments of the world, all recorded history, all that stuff. But we have this cute little podcast for them now. We're coming to you live with our guest. This is the big get for me, the biggest person I've ever gotten on the podcast, my husband, Mr. Payne Broome, everybody. Hello, Payne. Hello.
So the night that Ian and I met had gone, and I'd seen Ian, I'd never seen him before, and I was like, who is this guy? I want to talk to him. I saw Payne from, like, across the room, and I literally had the. You know. Oh. I talked to him for a little bit. I went to the bathroom, I came back, he was gone. My friend had started, well, I want to go. Take me home. Took my friend home. I think I might have changed my shirt and went back out. And then this other guy comes around who looks sort of like Payne, but wearing a shirt I didn't like. And so I'm like, I don't think he's as cute as the other guy. So I'm just going to not worry about him and see if the other guy comes back. And then when it finally dawned on me, I went up and I'm like, are you the same guy? And we started talking, kind of had a late night, closed the bar down, hooked up. I slept at his house, he broke my futon, and the rest is history. Fast forward 23 years, and here we are. Other relationships other than me. You want to talk about anybody you dated along the way? I don't think so. You don't think so? I mean, it's been so long now, but I never really dated anyone interesting. So I'm your first, like, same sex. I didn't realize that relationship, you know, I thought you were, like, hooked up with some guys, but I also wasn't looking for that. You know, the day that I met you was the day that I had moved out from my straight roommates, and I had a gay roommate, and I was moving to midtown, which is a free town. Exactly. You're about to gay it up right around the corner from the gay bar. I met you that same night, you know, and I was gonna have my fun and be a single gay man in the city. Right. And then you walked into my life four hours later. Oh, wow, that's so funny.
The first date we went on, he took me to the mall of Georgia with strike one. Okay. To run errands, strike two. But they were for his little brothers. He had to buy them Christmas presents. So I was like, okay, take a strike back. Christmas was the next Saturday. Yeah, it was the last Saturday that I could shop. And then I've been running errands with you literally ever since. Ever since. Thank you for doing this. Absolutely. Thanks for having me. I love this. Fun. I sure hope whatever channel this is airing is not looking for a young handsome comedian to follow for the next documentary. They're obviously not. They're making a documentary about me. We got a very funny man from Atlanta. I was talking to my straight friend the other day. He was telling me about his two twin seven year old sons who he doesn't let eat chicken tenders anymore because he doesn't let them eat any shaped foods. This is the part of the show where I like to ask one straight man a question. Is there a straight man? Yeah. You're straight. Yeah. Okay. I can tell. Okay, not counting your own and not counting pornography, how many have you seen in your life? In real life? I say four. Of the four that you've seen, how many of them look like chicken tenders? Zero. And I had to tell my friend, I was like, you know, if your looks like a chicken tender, let's not worry about what your kids are eating and get you to the hospital because you have a disease that makes your look bread. It does. But if your tastes like honey mustard, let's party. Let's just do it.
When I first heard book came, they were literally like, all of our audience is tourists. All, it's all tourists. Demographics were that less than 10% of people who come to the club come back. And that number has changed significantly. Now we're like 40%, 30% come back. Every job that I've ever had, it's mostly straight men that are in charge of everything. Some people they're booking diverse because they don't want anyone to be mad at them about it. And that's the only motivation they have. And then I think there's other people that see the value in it. Because Atlanta is an incredibly diverse city. It's good for business to make the lineups look like Atlanta. I've had several bookers and whenever I hire a booker, I'm always like, hey, congratulations. Now half of Atlanta comedy hates you because if you don't book, it's like, it's not their fault, just not that they're not funny. It's like the booker doesn't like me. The regular day to day here kind of sucks, honestly. Like, it's just another job. Everything's a job. We'll never have enough resource for all the people who want stage time here. There's always gonna be more comedians than we can book, so that can be very stressful. He probably has the job where you feel the least appreciated because you can't keep everyone happy. There's only certain spots to go around. At this call. He does a lot. Considering the pressure. I would not want to do what he's doing. Absolutely. Because, you know, to be a booker and then have to then go out and interact with everybody, just 40 handshakes coming at you and people being like, oh, yeah, no, I sent in my veils.
It's harder for a gay male comic, I think, to be booked than it is for a straight man. And I think that Ian has really been instrumental here in Atlanta as a booker. Booking gay people. The marginal experience of being queer in the South. He makes that hilarious. You know, as a fellow queer person in the South, I appreciate that. Everyone, please put your hands together for Ian Haber. I'm married. My husband and I, we've been together for 22 years. This year I know some of you doing that math and you're like, wait, gay marriage hasn't been legal for 22 years? You got me. Technically, we've been for 22 years and our legal status has changed a couple times. You know, we got married in 2009 when gay marriage was like limited edition. And then in 2014, our marriage became legal and it became legal nationally, everywhere. And let's just see how long that lasts, right? Let's see how Clarence Thomas feels about gay people next week. You know, I hope he doesn't have a sassy, mean gay waiter or we're all going to lose our marriages. But if we do, I'm okay with that. If we lose our marriage rights in the state of Georgia and we go back to not being married, then we're going to go back to our original cover story, which is we are two brothers. That which is slightly more palatable to the people of Georgia is that we share DNA and not a deep, undying love for each other.
Probably the biggest challenge about being a gay comedian is that a lot of bookers equate being gay with being dirty. When I first started that Was all the advice I got was, go start a gay show in the gay room because you're part of the gay scene. And I was like, okay. And I did that. I took that advice, and I found that very sequestering because it's like the true audience for comedy doesn't care whether you're gay or straight, so why should you care whether they're gay or straight? When I started, it wasn't that many gay people doing it. I had to be careful of saying certain things on the stage because it'll make the audience get quiet and nervous. I'm not doing anything different from a straight comedian. If I go up and tell a dating story about me and another man, how is that different from, you know, the straight comics are doing jokes about their dating lives, about their exes, about their wives. If I talk about my corporate queer life in the same way, not anything explicit, just me talking about dating another man is considered dirtier than a straight comic. Talking about dating someone of the opposite sex.
I know Ian can do clean and he can do dirty. I feel for him, like, that's frustrating that you can't be yourself on stage and talk your truth without somebody just seeing your relationship as dirty. And all of a sudden you're deemed a dirty comic and that other people aren't going to want to hear what you have to say. I spent a long time being offended in comedy, and I found that it was more useful for me to kind of like, funnel that into creating my own shows, getting myself booked to other places, aligning myself with people who don't behave in that manner. The scene that I started in was much more homophobic, and I think that now there's much less of that because there's so many queer people just in the scene in general, you know, people younger than me have so much less reservations and issues with people being queer. They don't care quite the same way. And I think that makes it a lot more of a fun environment to be in and more accepting. But, like, definitely there's still issues that queer people experience in comedy.
My husband, he is from South Georgia. He grew up around hunting and guns, and he has a bunch of guns. He has more guns. He has hands. I've never understood that. It's like, you only have two hands. You only need two guns. That's gun control right there for you. I've solved the problem. And I know some of you are thinking, well, what if why don't you carry some of the guns in your gun purse that he bought you and he did. He bought me a gun purse. During the apocalypse, I'm like riding bitch, I guess. And I'm holding all the guns. I'm a packed mule. During the apocalypse, you think that. That I would be carrying some of these guns, but I'm not allowed to touch any of the guns anymore. Ever since we went to the shooting gallery, I made a fool of myself. I guess a straight guy hands me the gun and he says a bunch of stuff and I don't listen to him. Cause he's straight, so why would I, right? And I didn't realize that the gun had a bullet in it. And they hand me the gun. The first thing I naturally do is the Charlie's Angels pose, right? I'm like, oh, my God, Charlie's Angels. And then they all start freaking out, right? And I'm like, God, I'm just playing Charlie's Angels. What a bunch of. Now who's gay? God.
When I first started, it was like me and one other gay person doing comedy. Georgia Voice is like a newspaper. They would do like the best gay things in the city, you know, every year, the best drag queen, best gay singer. And so I asked them to add comedian and they did. And I got nominated and Brent got nominated and the other person got nominated because there's only three of us anyways, and Brent won, and he's won it every year since then. So I literally created the award to lose to him every single year. I got a flat tire. This is my second flat tire in two months. Haynes also had two flat tires, so we're just. It's flat tire season here in Atlanta, so I'm trying to change the tire, but I have to figure out how to use the jack first. There, maybe. Let me see. Look at that. See, that's what I'm talking about. I don't know how to do that. There's also this little thing where if I do something wrong, he'll just come in and fix everything. So haul these nuts. Didn't pull that one. Look at that four tire right there. Just keep tightening it. Will straighten this up. Is this a crowbar? You come check my work. That's how you change the time with lots of help. Who knew this was down here? Man, look at this.
So I guess I could move those tables over and then I could have one light there, One light there. We got an hour. Might as well play around all this little stuff. It really does matter when you turn the lights down. Oh, it burns. Test, test, test. It's the best part of the show. This is the waiting. Hey, what's up, buddy? What's going on? Honor. Nice to see you. You too. Welcome to Athens. I'm still reacquainting myself with all the Athens comics. Yeah. Because all the Athens comics I know all moved to Atlanta. What's up? Nice to see you. Got this. All the comics are sitting that table right there. You want to sit that little size table?
All right, your next time we come to the stage, Ian A, everyone. Oh, you could have clapped until I took the microphone, but you didn't do that. Fine, y'. All. Okay. I'll let you take your moment to think about how much I look like Santa Claus. Everybody done that. Perfect. Okay. There was a guy in the front row who kind of my joke up. But then there's also sort of the. Like, they interrupt you, like, what's wrong with the joke? Do you know what I'm saying? Like, are you building a little space in the joke for them to say something? And if you are, you gotta close that loop. And anybody with a sane mind considers quitting comedy every week, especially when you bomb. If you bomb really hard and you're having a really tough week in comedy, I'll never be able to write anything again. Stand up works when you're true to yourself and you're honest, and that's how you connect to people. We all have our up days and our down days. You know, some days can be tough, and you gotta go do a show and you battle whether or not you are in that headspace. Like, whether or not you can deliver humor right. Now, a lot of people who struggle in life end up having to develop a sense of humor to, like, persevere and make their life more enjoyable. Which brings me to Ian, because it's like the type of people who make the most horrifying things hilarious. Those are the true alchemists. Right. They turned actual into gold. Like, how did they do that?
What did you think of that set? That's. I didn't understand what was going. You inflicted up high there. I know, but I didn't understand what was going on. There were people walking in the room in the middle of the set, and then those ladies interrupted me. So I saw you stop and address them, but I didn't. Yeah, I didn't realize what was happening. But there was a lot of crowd work before your set. I know. That's sort of part of the plaque. That was, I think, part of the problem. I knew you weren't happy. See? Hey, he gets it. And that's at least One person. I don't have to explain it all to them because they just understand.
He talks about things that are traumas that he's worked through. To be able to kind of laugh at that and make a joke about that. This is really important. Comedy is about emotions and about what you're feeling and about what you're dealing with and going through.
The last thing I do before I walk out of the house is I look in the mirror and I say, you get to do this. You don't have to do this. If I've got to go drive four hours to go do an hour, I remind myself that I've chosen all of these things. Sometimes I shimmy while I say it. It takes the sting out of the grind. There's parts of comedy that are not fun. You spend a lot of time standing around and waiting. And sometimes it's like you could be thinking, oh, I could just be at home right now instead of waiting to perform for four people. Or you could be like, I've chosen this, and this is gonna pay off at some point. It doesn't feel like it right now, but it's going to. The longer I do it, the deeper I feel like my connection to it is.
I wanted to be a regular at the laughing school, and now I booked the club, so I think I overshot that one a little bit. I wanted to record an album, and I recorded an album. I wanted to marry Payne, and I married Payne. I wanted to quit my day job, and I quit my day job. I make a living in comedy. It's a pittance, but I make a living in a perfect world. Yeah, I would love to do the Tonight Show. You know, I don't have much of a platform, but I sort of do have one. And I think that most of what I have to say is positive and empowering and contemplative. Trevor's getting out. Louder, y'. All. Very funny. Ian Abel.
Hello. Who's in therapy? Who's in therapy? Make some noise. I started therapy after the pandemic. I can't afford real therapy, though. Cause I do this for a living. They get paid primarily in quesadillas, and sour cream is extra. And mama always needs sour cream, you know, so. So what I do is I go to the local university in Atlanta, Georgia State University, and I go to their psychology department, and they have a little psychology clinic where they do their best. You know what I mean? They're trying. And that's where I get my brain fixed. Right. Do you know they have those cosmetology schools where you can go in an aspiring hairstylist meth head will give you crooked bangs and a bad permission. I'm doing that for my mind at Georgia State University, Psychology department. Right. They are trimming the bangs of my mind and they are fringy as. Okay. They assigned me a psychology student and that's my therapist. Yeah. So my therapist, she's 18 years old, her name is Jessica with two Ks for some reason. And she's from Warner Robbins, Georgia. Yeah. So a lot of what we talk about to her is very surprising. Like I was sharing in session the other day and her response was, damn you nasty. But then she went, oh, I mean, go on. So like, you know, it's a collaborative. She's figuring it out too. It's great. Some people might think that I'd have issues having like an 18 year old therapist. Like, I don't know, maybe the decades age difference might be a problem, but it's not. Some might think the fact that my trauma is older than my therapist, like my trauma could be definitely her mama, you know, but that's not it. The only issue that we really have is that my therapist, she happens to have a lazy eye and I also have a lazy eye. So like the first 28 minutes of every session is just us establishing eye contact. What the are you looking at? I'm over here. Come on, bring it in, Jessica. Follow my hand, follow my hand. I'm right here. I'm right here. Have you ever seen two lazy eyed people try to make eye contact before? It's a mess, okay. Our eyes just look like the marbles on a Hungry Hungry Hippo board just rolling around. In the south they call being lazy eyed cockeyed. And I'm gay, so I'm definitely cockeyed.
I was raised very religious, my mom. I remember one time we were driving in the car together, I feel pretty had come on. I was just hitting my solo and like doing my thing and she turns the music down and she goes, you know, Ian, gay people burn in hell forever. And I was like, you know, we live in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. What's the difference, bitch? What is the difference? My mom, though, she'll occasionally she'll call me and suggest things that I did when I was a kid for the comedy act. And then she called me recently and she left me this voicemail. She was like, oh, Ian, do you remember when you were 8 years old and you took a weed thing cracker. And threatened to kill yourself if we didn't buy you a Barbie doll. I didn't remember that at all. That's why I take all these drugs as an adult, is to block every bit of that out. Do you know what I'm saying? But I did. I took a weed Thin Cracker. And I saw this on a soap opera. Somebody tried to kill themselves with a razor blade to get what they wanted. And I like was. I was like, I'm doing that. And I couldn't find a razor blade in the house. So I found the next best thing. A Wheat Thin cracker. The world's sharpest cracker. And I went into the kitchen, I held it to my thin, tender 8 year old wrist and was like, I will bleed out on the floor right now if you do not give me a Barbie doll, old woman. But what I loved about all of that was the way my mom ended the message. She was like. And after that, we were afraid to keep Wheat Thins in the house. We became a Triscuits family after that.
My name's Ian Abra. This is my time. Thank you so much. Bye.
COMEDY, INSPIRATION, LGBTQ+, ATLANTA, LEADERSHIP, ENTERTAINMENT, PBS