Twelve years ago, I phoned a prospective client I’d been courting for months. The last time we’d spoken, only a few weeks earlier, she expressed interest in my conducting a seminar for her company. This time she said, “I was in the audience at the Fox theater last week; we won’t be needing your services.”

My face burned red with shame, as her words forced me to recall the most challenging experience I’ve ever had as a humorist.

It was my second year working as a presenter when I was hired to serve as the master of ceremonies for a landscape design association’s award dinner. The job was easy enough, just read a description of what the recipient did to win the award, call them up to the stage, and give them a trophy. Grateful for the opportunity, and wanting to provide additional value to my service, I offered to open the program with a 10-minute comedy routine. My client graciously accepted.

 …