Next week, a McPherson Playhouse usher makes his grand debut on the Mac's stage.
For Michael Delamont, a Victoria comic and part-time Playhouse employee, it's a dream come true.
And a nail-biting leap of faith.
"It is a jump," he admitted this week. "It's the most I've ever spent on a show."
Delamont, an affable six-foot-six presence, is referring to the $10,000 it's costing him to self-produce the show, Mike Delamont Live! The civic playhouse is giving him a cut rate. But it's still a lot of money.
The 813-seat McPherson Playhouse is where big-name comics like Norm Macdonald and John Pinette regularly gig. Delamont, 28, is no household name, but he's far from a novice. He has performed his comedy show God is a Scottish Drag Queen to packed houses at fringe theatre festivals in Victoria, Vancouver, Edmonton and Montreal.
Critics love it. God is a Scottish Drag Queen was a 2012 best-comedy nominee at Montreal's Just for Laughs.
Delamont started working as an usher at the McPherson and Royal Theatres about four years ago. Back then, he was hard up for cash. Today, his comedy gigs - which provided the money to rent the McPherson - have freed him from being dependent on ushering.
"But they're such lovely people. Now, if I don't have anything going on, I'll rip tickets. I don't care," Dela-mont said.
Here's how the McPherson show came about. Dela-mont was selling out shows at the Victoria Event Centre, a downtown club. It occurred to him that he could play a bigger venue.
Maybe even the Mac. As far as he knew, no local comic had ever attempted this.
So he set that as his goal. For 2014, that is.
A friend, concert promoter Nick Blasko, encouraged him. But it was only over a spaghetti-and-meatballs meal at Pagliacci's restaurant that the dream transformed into reality.
When Delamont casually mentioned his idea of headlining the McPherson Playhouse, restaurateur and sometime actor Howie Siegel asked how much tickets would be.
"I think around $35 to cover the cost, but this is just an idea," Delamont told him.
"Howie reached into his pocket and pulled out a small fortune and slapped down 70 bucks on the table and shouted, 'I want the best two seats in the house!' So without a date set, a contract in place or any real idea of what the hell I was getting myself into, I had sold my first two tickets.
"And all I could think was, 'Well, no turning back now!' "
Completely true, confirmed Siegel. He has faith in Delamont's abilities, describing him as a gifted comedian whose observational style is perceptive and unusually detailed.
"I feel for him. I want him to do well. I want him to knock them out," Siegel said. "He's a nice man. He's a very sweet guy. And he's incredibly insecure like any comedian that ever lived."
In person, Delamont doesn't seem insecure. I asked if he's nervous about what (at least by Victoria standards) represents a Carnegie Hall-esque debut.
He said performances never frazzle him. It's the behind-the-scenes details that put him on edge. For instance, Delamont paid a grand to get a giant banner placed on the bricked exterior of the McPherson Playhouse. For a time, it was partially hidden behind a tree; however, theatre staff soon remedied that.
I first met Michael Dela-mont a decade ago. He was just 17, wearing an awful red Hawaiian shirt. He and a friend had concocted a show, Club Cocktales, which they were performing at Diablo's Nightclub. It was - get this - a parody of The Vagina Monologues (a male version). Although under drinking age, they were permitted to do it as a cabaret night, provided they didn't wander around the club.
The whole thing seemed just plain nutty. Imagine a pair of teens doing a Vagina Monologues satire for beer-guzzling clubbers. But I did admire his chutzpah.
Delamont remembers Club Cocktales. "It wasn't a good show," he said. "It was safe jokes written by a teenager."
Still, he persevered in his dream of becoming a comic. He watched Rowan Atkinson Live! so many times, he wore out the VHS tape.
Delamont's true grounding in comedy was to be his eight years working with Atomic Vaudeville, the innovative company that produced Ride the Cyclone and Legoland.
The comedy troupe's founders, Britt Small and Jacob Richmond, encouraged him to try new characters and ideas. He played Captain Kirk in a too-tight costume and danced in a gold Speedo swimsuit. He developed writing and performance skills. And a following.
Somewhat unusual in the world of standup, his comedy is character-based.
Mike Delamont Live! will include "God" (who's a Scottish fellow in drag), lounge-lizard Jimmy Peekaboo, Italian winemaker Carlo Rossi and Dr. Theatre. The latter pops up in situations requiring a medical doctor, such as someone having a heart attack in a restaurant.
"He'll say, 'I'm a doctor. A doctor of theatre.' And then he puts on a play."
Delamont was raised in Cranbrook. His father, who ran a Nissan dealership, died at Christmastime in a snowmobiling accident. He hit a branch, causing internal bleeding. Delamont was just seven years old.
He was adopted, something his parents told him early on. Delamont isn't in touch with his birth family, although a brother once phoned when he was 16. It was an awkward conversation.
When he was 13, he and his mom moved to Victoria. He didn't know a soul at Esquimalt High. At first, no one talked to him. There was a little bullying. He was new, too tall (already six-foot-one) and ungainly.
What turned it all around was Delamont's ability to make people laugh.
"People, instead of teasing me, would say, 'Hey, you gotta see this guy. He does this joke about this.' "
His mother, June, was an indefatigable supporter. She attended as many shows as she could. Sometimes, she'd write critiques of his performances, jotted on the edge of a program.
A year ago, in November, someone in the audience stood up at one of Delam-ont's shows. He immediately started razzing the person. It turned out to be June, standing up to stretch a bad leg. She gave as good as she got.
Some weeks after, she died.
"My last show she ever saw me, she got made fun of," he said with a wry smile. "I feel good and bad. ... That interaction with her is one I'll remember for a long, long time."
When the opening credits run for Mike Delamont Live! (the show has some filmed segments), there will be a dedication: "For June."
"She always thought I'd be something eventually," her son said. "So we'll see if it happens."
Mike Delamont performs at the McPherson Playhouse on Wednesday at 7: 30 p.m. Tickets, starting at $27, are available at the McPherson box office (250-386-6121).
