When I heard Jerry Seinfeld was bringing his comedy tour to Regina, I gleefully pounced on the opportunity to see him. I am more than a fan. I am a worshipper, a devout believer in the magical powers of someone who was so creatively charmed to create the best sitcom of all time.

My vehicle rolled on the highway towards the province’s capital. I knew the road well, and wasn’t shocked until I pulled up to the Brandt Centre. Its bright orange exterior made it look like a heavy machinery dealer rather than an event centre, or maybe something from a child’s toy car collection. I knew in my heart it was a finely-made building, but also knew a man as worldly as Seinfeld would not hesitate in ripping it to shreds in his act, embarrassing the fine people of Regina.

I expected an unenthusiastic Seinfeld meandering onto the stage, wobbling back and forth for a half hour, spouting his trademark realizations in his hilarious, socially-unsuitable voice: “Did you ever notice this about that?” I laid back into the slick, black leather cushion of the steel fold-up chair. As the lights turned off I was immersed in nervous expectation.

The feeling lasted only a moment though, as the spotlights quickly flashed back on, following a sprinting Seinfeld, scampering like a child towards the microphone stand. He was clearly comfortable in his well-fitted suit, split by a banana yellow tie.

“Hey,” he said almost awkwardly, the sound swelling through the microphone along with the surprised eruption of the crowd. He ran stage right, sliding several feet in his dress shoes, proceeding to the left to do the same, the sound of the crowd following him wherever he went.

“How’s everybody doing?”

More roaring. One strange-looking first row attendee put a piece of memorabilia on stage, hoping for it to be signed. He must have been disappointed as Seinfeld immediately walked towards it saying, “Please sir, get your garbage off stage,” kicking it off with his extravagant footwear, “We’re trying to do a show here.”

Seinfeld quickly connected with the crowd, earnestly complimenting the quaint quality of the prairie capital, then proceeding with mockery.

“I’m not going to make any jokes about it. I’m sure you’re sick of the jokes,” he said.

He resisted criticizing the hokey-looking arena, and instead mocked the mentality behind the phrase “going out.”

“Brandt Centre, we’re at the Brandt Centre. You know why we’re here? To convince ourselves that our lives don’t suck! ‘We gotta go out, we gotta go out!’ Here we are: I’m out, you’re out!” he exclaimed in his trademark voice, jabbing his finger everywhere in the crowd. “All to convince ourselves that our lives actually have meaning.”

His regular routine featured a very animated criticism of self-obsessed Blackberry addicts, mocking the phenomena of modern electronic communication, reproaching the fantasy world that pharmaceutical commercials exist in and harsh criticisms of illogical bathroom designs. I looked around and did not see many people disagreeing with his comedic observations of common frustrations and everyday curiosities.

He continued with another bit, personalized for the region. “I’ve been gettin’ ma Timmie’s,” he said to mild patriotic applause, gradually opening up this surefire cultural connection with the audience into a scathing examination of coffee culture.

Seinfeld had undoubtedly researched for his set. He began talking about Saskatchewan, comedically emphasizing the “wan” in a gently mocking tone. The affectionate manner in which he commented on the area showed just how well-manicured his act was, each and every joke resonating with the crowd.

The climax of the show provided the faithful fans with an honest account of personal experiences, such as his marriage and a candid discussion of his parenting:

“People often ask me if I like having kids… and it’s actually a difficult question to answer. But one thing that does make it worth it, is they are the only type of people that when you knock on the bathroom door, they will say, ‘Come in! Yeah, what do you want dad?’ Feet up in the air swinging back and forth.”

There were many intimate moments like this. One gets the feeling that these tours of Seinfeld’s amount to a manifesto of sorts, intentionally obliterating any perceived barrier that fame and fortune could establish. He is reaching out to those who have appreciated his work, determined to abolish the silliness of celebrity worship that fame can generate, attempting to return to Earth from the stratospheric place that his work and accomplishments have sent him. Seinfeld performed for an hour and a half, spryly gallivanting all over the stage without breaking any sort of a sweat, charming me and the crowd in a way he never had before.

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photo: Anirudh Koul/Flickr