Quirky comedian cracks up sold-out crowd at Buskirk-Chumley

The Buskirk-Chumley Theater erupted into applause Saturday night as comedian Heywood Banks paused his routine to ask nobody in particular for a pair of forks. It was a wonderfully odd moment in a performance full of them.\nThe audience approved of this strange request, and as Banks donned a metal toaster and used the forks to “tune” his “instrument,” a giddy sense of anticipation swept over the sold-out crowd.\nAccompanied by his own ad-hoc percussion, Banks performed his fan-favorite song “Toast” and left the stage as cascades of grateful applause sounded. An appropriately eccentric ending to a routine that was anything but sane.\n“The first time I played one of my songs for my mom, she said, ‘Well, Heywood, that is different,’” Banks mused. “Then she whispered to my father – I think it was something about a group home.”\nBanks, the comedic alter-ego of Stuart Mitchell, made his first appearance on the nationally-syndicated Bob & Tom Show in 1987, and has been splitting sides ever since.\nHis plaid jacket and dark-rimmed glasses give him the look of an eccentric intellectual. Banks’ jokes often straddle the line between profound intelligence and hapless stupidity.\n“Why is it that the Amana Amish colonies are churning out microwaves when they can’t even make zippers for their pants?” Banks asked the audience. “It makes no sense, ‘Ezekiel, your popcorn is ready but your barn door is open.’”\nHis comedy albums have garnered national acclaim and his live performances have made him a cult hero among fans. Banks’ off-the-wall brand of comedy transcends age barriers, making him a family act in an era rife with foul-mouthed comics.\nIU freshman Sam Behringer was introduced to Banks’ comedy by his fourth-grade teacher, who often played his CDs during class. \n“His comedy is insightful and original,” Behringer said. “He doesn’t rely on racial stereotypes or crude language.”\nBanks’ two-hour stand-up performance was interspersed with original songs such as “18 Wheels (on a Big Rig),” “Reflux” and “Wiper Blades.” Although he forgot lyrics and restarted songs at times, Banks truly appeared at home in the spotlight and embraced the miscues as part of his act.\nAfter stopping to replace a broken acoustic guitar string, Banks demonstrated the broken string’s alternate use as “Italian neck floss.”\nJoking about everything from Internet predators to Count Dracula, Banks’ performance was cluttered with seemingly random one-liners read from several crinkled pieces of paper.\nBeing a Michigan native, Banks’ comedy is drenched with references and anecdotes to which Midwesterners can relate.\nWhether he is satirizing the corn-filled journey across Iowa’s Interstate 80, lamenting the police presence throughout Indiana’s Interstate 65, or paying tribute to the Giant Jesus statue overlooking Ohio’s Interstate 75, it is obvious that Banks’ comedy is firmly rooted in America’s Heartland.\nThe manipulation of words and their meanings has always been a staple of Banks’ comedy. In a love song dedicated to a Cyclops, the chorus features Banks proclaiming that “She’s the one eye love!”\nBloomington resident Pegi Risinger, a speech pathologist, admires Banks for his hilarious mastery of language. \n“I love the way he plays with words,” Risinger said. “He can be so creative without having to rely on crass comedy.”\nAlthough four-letter exclamations remained absent from Banks’ performance, his explanation of feeding dogs grass seed in order to make Chia Pets wasn’t exactly wholesome.\nLuckily, Banks never explained to his mother that he would become famous by writing songs about wiper blades and toast. If he had, he just might have spent Saturday night performing to a much smaller audience, in a group home.