In stand up comedy, getting the light is what happens when the producer of the show, or open mic, informs the comedian his time is almost up. Depending on how well the comedian’s performance goes, the light can be a saving grace if the performance is going badly or bittersweet if the act is killing.
On July 7, the Chicago Comedy scene saw one of her performers get “the light way too early,” as comedian Jamie Campbell put it on his blog, Hard in America.
Michael Shapiro, age 26, died of a heart attack after several attempts by cardiologists to address his rapidly failing health but ultimately being left as puzzled by the situation as his friends and family.
“Well, when the doctor came into the room, he explained he couldnt explain it because he was as confused as we were,” explained Dorothy Shapiro, Michael’s mother. “His heart had stopped three times. They worked on him for forty five minutes and the third time it never restarted. And at the end of all that they said, ‘what happened?’ There is this expectation that science can explain everything. That’s what you hope for because you want answers.”
What happened was the appropriate question. It just wasn’t directed at the correct topic. Shapiro, at the time of his death, was very well known in the comedy scene.
“When we ran [The Chicago Department of Comedy Showcase] together,” fellow comedian Tyler Jackson said, “he would bring in people I had never seen before. He ended up knowing a lot more people in the scene that I never met. The scene can be very splintered.”
Shapiro, however, transcended those divides.
“It’s a god damn shame we never knew he was reaching out to all of us,” traveling comedian Sean White lamented. “Everyone kept thinking it was just them he was talking to. This went from the number one comics in Chicago to the lowest. Who has the time to do that? Shaps made the time to do that. And he was a piñata. A piñata who held us all together. He did his job.”
How did this happen? How did Michael Shapiro, a kid from Northfield, IL become the “ true sisyphus” who “was single handedly rolling the ball of Chicago’s depression uphill.”
On July 7, the Chicago Comedy scene saw one of her performers get “the light way too early,” as comedian Jamie Campbell put it on his blog, Hard in America.
Michael Shapiro, age 26, died of a heart attack after several attempts by cardiologists to address his rapidly failing health but ultimately being left as puzzled by the situation as his friends and family.
“Well, when the doctor came into the room, he explained he couldnt explain it because he was as confused as we were,” explained Dorothy Shapiro, Michael’s mother. “His heart had stopped three times. They worked on him for forty five minutes and the third time it never restarted. And at the end of all that they said, ‘what happened?’ There is this expectation that science can explain everything. That’s what you hope for because you want answers.”
What happened was the appropriate question. It just wasn’t directed at the correct topic. Shapiro, at the time of his death, was very well known in the comedy scene.
“When we ran [The Chicago Department of Comedy Showcase] together,” fellow comedian Tyler Jackson said, “he would bring in people I had never seen before. He ended up knowing a lot more people in the scene that I never met. The scene can be very splintered.”
Shapiro, however, transcended those divides.
“It’s a god damn shame we never knew he was reaching out to all of us,” traveling comedian Sean White lamented. “Everyone kept thinking it was just them he was talking to. This went from the number one comics in Chicago to the lowest. Who has the time to do that? Shaps made the time to do that. And he was a piñata. A piñata who held us all together. He did his job.”
How did this happen? How did Michael Shapiro, a kid from Northfield, IL become the “ true sisyphus” who “was single handedly rolling the ball of Chicago’s depression uphill.”
Old Shaps’ story begins like anyone else. As a kid with a family.
Except it doesn’t. Shapiro’s story begins with doctors telling his mother, when he was four days old, that he desperately needed heart surgery. Shapiro was born with a stenosis in one of his heart valves which required immediate surgery.
According to the Stanford Children’s Health of the Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital, “Congenital aortic stenosis occurs due to improper development of the aortic valve in the first 8 weeks of fetal growth. It can be caused by a number of factors, though, most of the time, this heart defect occurs sporadically (by chance), with no apparent reason for its development.”
“They did not think he would live.” Shapiro’s mother said. “It was supposed to be the beginning of a series of operations and he would never get very tall or be very active.”
From the beginning of Michael’s life, even doctors were overlooking him and not booking him for future appearances. Shapiro’s first little act of life was to prove everyone wrong.
“He actually self corrected.” Shapiro’s mom said proudly. “The head cardiologist at children’s memorial in Vincent Sales said ‘this boy doesn’t have a problem.’ He grew up perfectly fine. No extra surgeries, nothing.”
Shapiro quickly started making a name for himself with his family with tactics that would remain constant through the rest of his life: being funny and selfless.
“Every Halloween we would go trick or treating, him and me, and we would come home and I would hoard all my candy,” Michael’s sister Dorothy Shapiro remembered. “He would go, ‘Dor, I know you really like candy, and I really don’t like candy, so you can have all of my candy.’ So every year he would give me all of his candy.”
Not only did he give but he appreciated everything he got as well.
“On Christmas, I would open up all my presents and he would open just one present and he would be so happy,” Dorothy Shapiro said. “He wouldn’t care about the next present so he would have unopened presents for days after Christmas because he was so unselfish, not materialistic, he didn’t care about things, he just cared about people and experiences.”
Young Shaps also became an instant comic genius among friends and family for his brazen honesty.
His mother remembers his honesty well:
“What made him so funny was he didn’t have much of a screen. The reality that we all agreed to pretend was real… he didn’t buy into. Michael would comment on it and you would gasp or you would just have to laugh. And he said the truth with affection; it wasn’t cynical.”
“When Mike was a bit older,” Dorothy recollected, “he threw a party at our house when our parents were out of town. Afterwards, he went around to all the neighbors and said, ‘I’m sorry for doing that, I’m sorry for all the noise, blah blah blah, but…I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m not gonna say I won’t do it again. I’m probably gonna do it again. But I am really sorry.’”
That sort of truth-telling and fearlessness led Shapiro to one of the toughest cities in America: Chicago. It also was the city he loved and thrived in.
“Chicago is where he came alive.” Shapiro’s mother said. “He went to DePaul University because he loved the city. He knew the city backwards and forwards. he knew all the theaters that were starting, the theaters that were famous, the venues that were good for music.”
With good reason; Shapiro loved music.
“He loved listening to music in high school.” Dorothy said.
“…but his love grew even bigger in college because that’s when he started playing the guitar,” Shapiro’s mother said. “He loved music. People were kind of astonished that he could play. I remember when he was in college he called me and told me, “Ma, the first time I found real joy is playing the guitar.’ He would practice for hours and hours.”
His practice time was sacred. In college, Shapiro would be at odds often with his studies and learning his craft as a guitar player.
“A professor at DePaul gave him an assignment to read a book and Michael had a learning disability. He wasn’t like other English majors and ingest whole books the night before the test, he really had to methodically work through stuff,” Joan Shapiro said, snickering. “So he told the teacher, ‘you know, if I read this, it’s really going to cut in to my practice time.’ He was serious. He wasn’t joking.” To Michael’s surprise, the professor told him to read only what he could in lieu of playing the guitar.
After college, Shapiro was invited to a stand up open mic by a friend. As luck would have it, his friend ended up bailing on him, so Michael ended up going alone to try his hand at what he would be known for in Chicago. After the first try, he called his mom to tell her about the experience.
“Ma, I did stand up last night and I was terrible. They booed. But it’s like the guitar, I’m gonna practice and I’m gonna get alot better.”
Thus began Shapiro’s comedy career. Like many comedians before him, his career didn’t start off well, but his story had some bigger bumps.
Except it doesn’t. Shapiro’s story begins with doctors telling his mother, when he was four days old, that he desperately needed heart surgery. Shapiro was born with a stenosis in one of his heart valves which required immediate surgery.
According to the Stanford Children’s Health of the Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital, “Congenital aortic stenosis occurs due to improper development of the aortic valve in the first 8 weeks of fetal growth. It can be caused by a number of factors, though, most of the time, this heart defect occurs sporadically (by chance), with no apparent reason for its development.”
“They did not think he would live.” Shapiro’s mother said. “It was supposed to be the beginning of a series of operations and he would never get very tall or be very active.”
From the beginning of Michael’s life, even doctors were overlooking him and not booking him for future appearances. Shapiro’s first little act of life was to prove everyone wrong.
“He actually self corrected.” Shapiro’s mom said proudly. “The head cardiologist at children’s memorial in Vincent Sales said ‘this boy doesn’t have a problem.’ He grew up perfectly fine. No extra surgeries, nothing.”
Shapiro quickly started making a name for himself with his family with tactics that would remain constant through the rest of his life: being funny and selfless.
“Every Halloween we would go trick or treating, him and me, and we would come home and I would hoard all my candy,” Michael’s sister Dorothy Shapiro remembered. “He would go, ‘Dor, I know you really like candy, and I really don’t like candy, so you can have all of my candy.’ So every year he would give me all of his candy.”
Not only did he give but he appreciated everything he got as well.
“On Christmas, I would open up all my presents and he would open just one present and he would be so happy,” Dorothy Shapiro said. “He wouldn’t care about the next present so he would have unopened presents for days after Christmas because he was so unselfish, not materialistic, he didn’t care about things, he just cared about people and experiences.”
Young Shaps also became an instant comic genius among friends and family for his brazen honesty.
His mother remembers his honesty well:
“What made him so funny was he didn’t have much of a screen. The reality that we all agreed to pretend was real… he didn’t buy into. Michael would comment on it and you would gasp or you would just have to laugh. And he said the truth with affection; it wasn’t cynical.”
“When Mike was a bit older,” Dorothy recollected, “he threw a party at our house when our parents were out of town. Afterwards, he went around to all the neighbors and said, ‘I’m sorry for doing that, I’m sorry for all the noise, blah blah blah, but…I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m not gonna say I won’t do it again. I’m probably gonna do it again. But I am really sorry.’”
That sort of truth-telling and fearlessness led Shapiro to one of the toughest cities in America: Chicago. It also was the city he loved and thrived in.
“Chicago is where he came alive.” Shapiro’s mother said. “He went to DePaul University because he loved the city. He knew the city backwards and forwards. he knew all the theaters that were starting, the theaters that were famous, the venues that were good for music.”
With good reason; Shapiro loved music.
“He loved listening to music in high school.” Dorothy said.
“…but his love grew even bigger in college because that’s when he started playing the guitar,” Shapiro’s mother said. “He loved music. People were kind of astonished that he could play. I remember when he was in college he called me and told me, “Ma, the first time I found real joy is playing the guitar.’ He would practice for hours and hours.”
His practice time was sacred. In college, Shapiro would be at odds often with his studies and learning his craft as a guitar player.
“A professor at DePaul gave him an assignment to read a book and Michael had a learning disability. He wasn’t like other English majors and ingest whole books the night before the test, he really had to methodically work through stuff,” Joan Shapiro said, snickering. “So he told the teacher, ‘you know, if I read this, it’s really going to cut in to my practice time.’ He was serious. He wasn’t joking.” To Michael’s surprise, the professor told him to read only what he could in lieu of playing the guitar.
After college, Shapiro was invited to a stand up open mic by a friend. As luck would have it, his friend ended up bailing on him, so Michael ended up going alone to try his hand at what he would be known for in Chicago. After the first try, he called his mom to tell her about the experience.
“Ma, I did stand up last night and I was terrible. They booed. But it’s like the guitar, I’m gonna practice and I’m gonna get alot better.”
Thus began Shapiro’s comedy career. Like many comedians before him, his career didn’t start off well, but his story had some bigger bumps.
“I remember I had to ban him from a show that I produce at ComedySportz.”
Comedian and friend Jamie Campbell recollected on his blog:
“He was hanging around for the open mic, and snuck backstage – to go out back and smoke. We had a private event at the club earlier in the day, and there was some catering that was left over that the staff of the venue were taking home. I saw him backstage, and he got really excited about the food. I told him he couldn’t go backstage, as he wasn’t staff, and that the food was not up for grabs. It was for the staff. About 30 minutes later, I was in the lobby, and I saw him enter through the backstage door, shoving stolen food into his mouth.”
“He had a bad reputation early on, I think, for punching a guy in the back of the head at an open mic,” Sean White recalled before he passed on the American Dream open mic to Shapiro. “He’s probably best friends with that guy now. Or that dude is telling everyone he [knows] on Facebook since Shapiro’s passed.”
Another trend Shapiro started very early on was sending people Facebook messages that were odd, consistent, and caring.
“He would message me at all hours of the night, trying to convince me to like Eric Clapton,” comedian and host of The Late Late Breakfast comedy show, Tyler Jackson, said. “He would just come at you with non sequiturs. He sent me a message one time at 2 a.m. saying, ‘hey Tyler, you’ve heard of Chance the rapper, I’m Pants the Crapper,’ and I’d be like oh come on man, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning.”
“My girlfriend and I were going over the messages that he had sent her!” Sean White exclaimed. “At the time, I didn’t even know anyone knew about her. He had been messaging her for forever! He would just watch people and then say, ‘I’m going to message them later.’”
To say the least, most in the comedy scene did not know or even understand how to take Shapiro when he first came to it. As chance would have it, Shapiro’s perception filled a need for Sean White.
“I was running an open mic called the American Dream at the Blarney Stone for a year and a half. I had rotating cohosts and I was getting tired of it,” White said.
“[Shapiro] always came to the mic…He would always ask direct questions. He would cut right to the heart of things. And he said, ‘what are you gonna do with the mic?’ I told him I’m gonna end it… and he said, ‘don’t end it; give it to me!’”
Why would White hand over a product he tried to build for two years? Especially to a comic with Shapiro’s reputation? It was quite genius given White’s motives:
“Now, I thought to myself, ‘I want this open mic to die. What better way than in the hands of who is, right now, considered one of the most annoying comics and people in the City of Chicago?’ I said to myself ‘I tell you what; you want to bring this thing down, let’s bring it down in flames.’ I thought it’d be funny [to see him crash and burn.]”
Comedian and friend Jamie Campbell recollected on his blog:
“He was hanging around for the open mic, and snuck backstage – to go out back and smoke. We had a private event at the club earlier in the day, and there was some catering that was left over that the staff of the venue were taking home. I saw him backstage, and he got really excited about the food. I told him he couldn’t go backstage, as he wasn’t staff, and that the food was not up for grabs. It was for the staff. About 30 minutes later, I was in the lobby, and I saw him enter through the backstage door, shoving stolen food into his mouth.”
“He had a bad reputation early on, I think, for punching a guy in the back of the head at an open mic,” Sean White recalled before he passed on the American Dream open mic to Shapiro. “He’s probably best friends with that guy now. Or that dude is telling everyone he [knows] on Facebook since Shapiro’s passed.”
Another trend Shapiro started very early on was sending people Facebook messages that were odd, consistent, and caring.
“He would message me at all hours of the night, trying to convince me to like Eric Clapton,” comedian and host of The Late Late Breakfast comedy show, Tyler Jackson, said. “He would just come at you with non sequiturs. He sent me a message one time at 2 a.m. saying, ‘hey Tyler, you’ve heard of Chance the rapper, I’m Pants the Crapper,’ and I’d be like oh come on man, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning.”
“My girlfriend and I were going over the messages that he had sent her!” Sean White exclaimed. “At the time, I didn’t even know anyone knew about her. He had been messaging her for forever! He would just watch people and then say, ‘I’m going to message them later.’”
To say the least, most in the comedy scene did not know or even understand how to take Shapiro when he first came to it. As chance would have it, Shapiro’s perception filled a need for Sean White.
“I was running an open mic called the American Dream at the Blarney Stone for a year and a half. I had rotating cohosts and I was getting tired of it,” White said.
“[Shapiro] always came to the mic…He would always ask direct questions. He would cut right to the heart of things. And he said, ‘what are you gonna do with the mic?’ I told him I’m gonna end it… and he said, ‘don’t end it; give it to me!’”
Why would White hand over a product he tried to build for two years? Especially to a comic with Shapiro’s reputation? It was quite genius given White’s motives:
“Now, I thought to myself, ‘I want this open mic to die. What better way than in the hands of who is, right now, considered one of the most annoying comics and people in the City of Chicago?’ I said to myself ‘I tell you what; you want to bring this thing down, let’s bring it down in flames.’ I thought it’d be funny [to see him crash and burn.]”