Frank Arthur Doyle, the godfather of stand-up comedy in San Francisco, known by most by his stage name "Frank Kidder," passed away on December 20, 2012 at the age of 70. The creator of the famous San Francisco International Comedy Competition and responsible for launching the careers of legends like Robin Williams and Jerry Seinfeld, Kidder will always be remembered fondly across the comedy industry. 

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photo by Tiffany Woods

Brandy Martell

I am a woman of Hispanic descent. My parents came here from Colombia and Cuba. Throughout my life, I never really faced discrimination as a Hispanic. I've faced more adversity for being female. During the 2008 election, I picketed against Proposition 8, in San Luis Obispo (where I lived at the time) during a Thursday night farmer's market. One night, a man approached me in a hostile and aggressive way, getting right up in my face. I don't remember what his line of reasoning was, but I do remember him yelling "you people."

"You people are what's wrong with this country!" he yelled.

I realized what he hated about me: He thought I was one of them -- one of the gay, lesbian, queer, bisexual, or transgender people who have filled my life since I was a child. At that moment I realized what a hate crime was and just how ugly ignorance makes people. I bring this up because a hate crime recently happened and I have to talk about it.

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Comedians die. It sucks. It totally sucks. And worse, it seems to be happening with more frequency. Maybe it is the fault of the Internet that I now hear about comics dying that I never met. Four comics -- that I know of -- died in the past year. Two of them Patrice O'Neal and Mike DeStefano were known enough that they got some mainstream media coverage. But the most recent ones, Kibibi Dillon and Angelo Bowers, hadn't yet achieved enough to merit mainstream recognition. But they are remembered by their friends and family and the comedy community. Angelo's people have even dedicated Twitter handle to his jokes.

The thing that mostly sucks about all of these comics' deaths is what usually sucks when a comic dies (Mitch Hedburg, Greg Giraldo, Freddy Soto) -- it feels like they could have been avoided. To me it feels like the lifestyle of being a comic was also partially responsible in their deaths, not just a stroke (O'Neal), or a heart attack (DeStefano), or a car accident (Dillon), or a drunk driver (Bowers). The profession of stand-up comedy is way more risky than people -- even comics -- like to think.

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