Excuse Me, But I'm An Okie Cowboy, and I Do Cuss A Little!

A ONE-NIGHT STAND WITH COMEDIAN ROBERT YORK

by Bill Giduz

The mood in the room changed with a fierce crack when the Oklahoma cowboy finally used "Mr. Bullwhip." Robert York cracked it once -- after profanely fondling and somewhat casually handling it in his dumb Okie sort of way for the longest time.

After joshing with the crowd, in mid­sentence and without warning he cracked it 14 feet out over their heads. "Hot dang! That sure puckered some rear ends!" he laughed. There's nothing like a well­cracked bullwhip to get a little respect from your audience.

Then he called up Bruce on the second row, who was none too happy to go. But egged on by a room full of rowdy buddies, the foil could not refuse. Bruce was to stand there with his arms raised. And he didn't have to tell the right side folks to duck. They were already scrambling onto the floor beside their chairs.

York once again tipped the brim of his hat, twisted his thin handlebar mustache and grinned evily ahead. With warning this time, York cracked Mr. Bullwhip with as sharp and perfect a pitch as before, and brought it back to twirl twice lazily around the unblistered Mr. Bruce. Big laughter and much applause!

York was on another one-nighter. A North Carolina college fraternity crowd this time. A hundred or so young people eager for some Thursday night entertainment. Profane and professional, York left them satisfied and loose.

In the last three years, York has done 1,200-plus such shows, and has done well in polishing his stage character and style. He works comedy clubs, colleges and conventions mostly in the southwest and southeast. The work is steady in part because,he's willing to travel. 150,000 miles in the car and 70,000 in the air during those three years. Now relocated with his wife, Karen, in Houston, Tex., he invites friends to bring a golf bag when passing through. "It's just a seven-iron to the tee," said York, who carries his personal clubs around the country with his juggling props.

Besides the bullwhip, they include three rings and seven of the same style Juggler's Prop Shop silver lame bean bags he has juggled since forever. After an introductory hat trick and 10 -15 minute comedy monologue, he pulled three bean bags from the saddlebags he brought on stage. He does three ball puns, with carefully choreographed tricks and commentary. There are no wasted moves. Each one has a purpose in unison with uproarious social and scatalogical patter. He only breaks the script to send one-liners zinging into the audience.

He pushes the limits of propriety, but wins fans by just as deliberately hauling the plot line back in to a logical and clever conclusion. An R-rated show, and one that succeeds on both the entertainment and technical levels.

Though he doesn't work on his numbers juggling any more, he showed a solid seven bag juggle, bending to cope with a low ceiling and raised stage that made it even lower. The ring routine got a boost from a slow-motion replay that included some laughable gestures not shown in the original.

There was no flashy ending, just some jokes and an honest "goodnight." Back on the road again to another city and another crowd. He would drive late into the night to get a good jump on the next days show 250 miles away. He has found steady success in the growing comedy market by working on his jokes much more than his juggling. Though comedians abound, variety comedians like York are still relatively rare, he said, and good ones find good work. Though pained by a perceived lack of respect from "straight" comedians, York believes the future favors the juggler. "You know," he said, "I hear that the decade of the '90s is going to be a revival of variety, Ed Sullivan shows all over again! Hot dang!"

The young crowd that applauded him off stage certainly left that impression. .:.