Tour de farce

FOR THE LONGEST TIME Jeb Cadwell's not going anywhere for a while.

Jeb Cadwell lived in the woods one summer and challenged himself to write 1,000 haiku. He overshot the mark, churning out more than 1,400.

Now the hyperambitious Chicago comic is polishing his stand-up act by going high-volume once again: 400 performances in 365 days.

“It was time to hunker down and give myself a quota,” says Cadwell, who started his quest April 11.

About a fourth of the way through, so far so good; he’s got the necessary stamina, skill, connections and encyclopedic knowledge of Chicago’s open-mike calendar. A typical Cadwell week might include hosting an open mike at Pressure Billiards and Café, doing a showcase set at The Improv and rounding things out late at night on the open-mike circuit.

One recent Monday finds him starting at Gunther Murphy’s, where the crowd consists mostly of other comic scenesters. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll skip the ‘connecting with the audience’ part of the set tonight and move straight to the ‘hilarity’ part,” Cadwell promises.

Ninety minutes later he takes the Mix stage. There are lots of comics here, too: Cadwell’s 35th in line. His opening bit doesn’t get much of a response. “When the adrenaline kicks in, I still get a little nervous, but after so many times, it feels like stepping into the shower,” says Cadwell, who’s slightly ahead of schedule at this point.

Cadwell, 32, works from home by day, giving him the flexibility to stay up late and club-hop. He lives with his fiancée, who supports his plan but seldom comes along.

This breakneck schedule is trademark Cadwell: quirky self-discipline and lots of travel. Growing up, he worked as a street musician while his mom moved the family from place to place. His father wasn’t in the picture, but figures prominently in Cadwell’s routine: “Can we get a hand for a guy who’s here for me tonight just like he was there for me while I was growing up?” he says, silence ensuing.

Cadwell bounced around in his twenties, an itinerant stand-up comedian and “militant hippie.” He hitchhiked across California, slept on couches for nine months in Colorado, and stopped off in Vermont, New Hampshire, New York and Arizona. He drew attention as a comic in Burlington, Vermont, and again in Denver, but left too quickly to build much momentum.

He landed in Chicago in 2000 to take classes at the Second City. Soon he was convinced he had to stay if he wanted to make it as a comic. After six years of classes and some successes in local improv and sketch—he’s written, performed, and directed at Chicago SketchFest with groups the Happy Heads, Suspicious Clowns and the Yoga Show—he shifted to stand-up.

Last week was self-imposed par for the course: 11 shows in seven days—a mixture of open mikes and longer showcase performances. The other guys on the circuit are impressed.

“The one with the strongest engine is the one who’s going to make it in this business,” says comic Eric Pennell, standing outside Gunther Murphy’s with Cadwell and Mike Sheehan after all three performed. “You’ve got to have a lot of gas in the tank.”

Cadwell’s got the talent to match his drive. His material is intelligent and complex, delivered with a sarcastic drawl for an effect that conjures Steve Martin and Owen Wilson. His goal is to develop an hour of top-shelf stuff, and he tries new bits all the time—when your next show is only an hour away, you can afford to take chances. “Sometimes it’s like a little demon on my shoulder,” he says. “?‘Hey, you’re killing ’em—it’s a perfect time to try that new thing.’?” In a way, this breakneck exercise is about Cadwell trying to overcome his wanderlust: “I know I can do this, and the only thing that can prevent me is lack of patience and persistence.”

Cadwell’s blog at www.myspace.com/jebcadwell charts his progress.