About me · Improv

I used to hate watching improv. Now I do it every week.

For about a year I’ve been taking improv classes at The Hashtag Comedy Co. in Columbus. In October 2026 I started Level 5, the final level. It’s the scariest class I ever signed up for, and one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Yes, and…

~1 yrof weekly classes
5levels at The Hashtag
0scripts
1new tribe

The quick primer

So… what is improv?

When I tell people I do improv, most of them think it’s really cool, and then admit they’re not totally sure what it is. Fair. Here’s the short version: improv is unscripted theatre. Performers ask the audience for a suggestion (a word, a place, a relationship) and then make up scenes on the spot, together, with no script and no plan. Nobody knows what’s going to happen, including the people on stage. That’s the fun part.

It runs on a handful of simple rules that turn out to be surprisingly hard, and surprisingly useful everywhere else in life:

1

“Yes, and”

Accept what your partner offers, then add something to it. “We’re on the moon.” “Yes, and I forgot the snacks.” Never “No, we’re not.”

2

Listen more than you talk

The best line in the scene is usually hiding in what the other person just said. You only find it if you’re actually listening.

3

Make your partner look good

Your job isn’t to be the funniest person on stage. It’s to set up the person next to you so they shine.

4

Commit fully

If you’re a nervous penguin, be the most nervous penguin anyone has ever seen. Half-hearted is the only real way to fail.

5

No mistakes, only gifts

Said the wrong name? Tripped over a chair? Great. That’s new information. Use it.

6

Live in the moment

You can’t plan your next line. The moment you start writing it in your head, you’ve stopped hearing the scene.

7

Tell a story together

Two or more people, building something none of them could have built alone, one line at a time.

Stand-up

One person, a microphone, and material they’ve written and polished. It hits you intellectually: you think, you get the joke, you laugh.

vs.

Improv

A group, a suggestion, and nothing prepared. It’s as much acting as comedy. It’s about feeling, connection and the scene you build together. The laughs come from truth and surprise.

The serious part

Why I started

I’ll be honest about this, because I think leaders are flawed people and pretending otherwise is wrong.

Over the last few years I went through a hard stretch: marriage and family struggles, and eventually a divorce. I call it my existential midlife crisis. I made a lot of changes. I stopped drinking. I got more introspective. Instead of only trying to get better at my job, analytically and intellectually, I set out to get better as a person and to actually learn about myself.

For most of my life I believed emotions were nice when they were powerful and good, but otherwise they were distractions that made people inefficient, so you should suppress them. I came to see that ignoring them meant poor relationships, not understanding yourself, and not being happy.

“What’s the point of living life if you’re just going to be unhappy?”

So I dove into emotional intelligence: how feelings work, how they play out in relationships, building a vocabulary for them, expressing myself, understanding other people, talking with my kids about how they feel, and trying to help everyone around me become better people.

Somewhere in there, comedy came to mind. Then I came across improv, and my honest reaction was: ugh. I’ve always loved stand-up, but I never liked improv. Watching it made me feel awkward. Looking back, I think I was feeling what the performers were feeling, and it made me uncomfortable because I wasn’t comfortable with myself, with my emotions, or with connecting with other people. It was an art form I didn’t understand, so it was hard to watch.

Then I saw an ad for an improv class, and I made a decision:

“I’m going to get out of my skin. I’m going to do this. I’m probably going to hate it, but I’m going to do it.”

Because I’d already been reading and opening up to change, I didn’t hate it. I loved it. It gave a physical, practised form to everything I’d been learning about. It’s almost like therapy to me.

There’s a bigger story behind all of this (relationships, kids, getting sober) and maybe someday I’ll write it up properly. For now, this is where improv fits in.

Why I keep coming back

What improv gives me

It’s almost like therapy

It connects me to my emotions. It’s complicated and you have to think, but it’s also real and live, in the moment. You lean into feeling and being, then go with the groove of whatever your scene partner is doing.

Thinking on your feet

Coming up with ideas and adapting to brand-new situations in a way that’s real, connects with people and tells a story, all instantly. That carries into almost every part of life, and most people never build it. I want to have it.

A safe way to feel

Talking about feelings can be awkward, especially for guys. Role play makes it possible. When a scene hits a real subject, some people recoil (“too close to home”). Those are my favourite scenes. I get to act out something real and visceral, maybe something I needed to talk about, without having to talk about it directly.

Why I’m (apparently) good at it

Some wit and humour, sure. But I also sometimes “hammer” people emotionally. Audiences come up afterwards saying “oh my God, that was so emotional.” They may think it’s acting. To me, it’s real.

Optional story: only visible to logged-in admins until Phil approves it

A story

The scene that went quiet

Somewhere around Level 3, in front of a small class audience, I got a scene where the two characters were getting divorced. At the time, I was actually going through one.

We talked it through, the two of us, in character. And it hit hard. Every line I said, I meant. It helped me get something out that I needed to get out, and I think that’s exactly why the scene landed.

When it ended, the room went completely silent. Then someone said, quietly, “That was really good.” It was like watching a drama that hits you somewhere inside.

I meant that.

The professional core

Improv is a leadership skill

Half the reason I took this up was to be a better financial advisor and a better leader of my company. Also a better person, and maybe someday a broader kind of leader, whatever that turns out to look like.

I study ancient philosophy, Stoicism and emotional intelligence, and I still read financial planning books. But improv is different. It isn’t accumulating knowledge. It’s practising: interacting with people, touching emotions, and telling stories that are raw and complicated and actually connect. It’s a hard skill you can’t learn as a list of principles. You have to practise it, get good, and enjoy it.

“Improv isn’t something you read about. You have to practise it, in front of people, in real time.”

On stage → at work

  • Don’t plan ahead.Show up ready, not scripted. The best meetings go somewhere you didn’t expect.
  • Live in the moment.Be in the room, not in your next talking point.
  • “Yes, and.”Build on what people bring you instead of shutting it down.
  • Ask questions.Get people talking, and get them to feel what they actually feel.
  • Give your partners room.Let people do and say what they need to.
  • Jump in when they’re stuck.Be ready when someone needs help or a pause.
  • Keep it fluid.When people are comfortable and happy, they produce more.

Make your scene partner look good

Your client is the hero. You’re the guide.

Donald Miller’s StoryBrand idea changed how I think about client meetings: everyone wants to be the hero of their own story. They don’t want you to swoop in as the hero. They want you to help them be the hero. Play your part in their story and you’ll be more successful, people will like you more, and you’ll be able to do more with them and for them.

In improv terms, that’s just rule number three: make your scene partner look good. In a client meeting, it means getting people to talk, to feel what they feel, and to be part of their own story.

Where I learned

The Hashtag Comedy Co.

I found The Hashtag somewhat by chance, and I love it. It’s a community, not a comedy business. It’s nothing like a big chain comedy club. It’s founders, teachers, past students and other artists and performers who care about each other, about improv and about art, and who support each other outside of improv too.

It’s also really affordable compared with most things in Columbus, which has gotten expensive. You get to participate, meet new people and have fun.

Most of all, it gave me a new tribe: people I’d never otherwise have met, or thought I had anything in common with.

If you’re anywhere near Columbus and even a little curious, take Level 1. You’ll probably be terrified. Do it anyway.

Also great

The Nest Theatre

A few friends of mine take classes and see shows at The Nest, also on North High Street, and they love it. If The Hashtag’s schedule doesn’t fit yours, check them out too.

The Nest classes · shows · nesttheatre.com

People worth knowing

Shout-outs

JW

Josh Waddle

Improv teacher and performer

Josh taught my Level 2 class at The Hashtag. He’s ridiculously talented, a generous teacher, and he’s building a real career in comedy. Go see him perform with his troupe Donut Sundae.

Donut Sundae on Facebook → · Hashtag instructors

MF

Max Fleck

Stand-up comedian

Max is a friend from improv who’s chasing stand-up, and he’s funny. If you’re in Columbus, catch one of his sets, and give him a follow so his career gets a little boost.

@justfleckinaround on Instagram →

Groveport · interest list

Improv practice night

I’m thinking about starting an every-other-week improv practice night at the rebel Financial office in Groveport, on the southeast side of Columbus. It’s for people who’ve done at least Level 2, so you know the basics.

I’ve hosted practice there before for people I’ve met through improv. The hard part is numbers: improv is much better with four or more people, and five is really the minimum, so you can rotate scenes and still have a couple of people watching and giving feedback. Some nights it’s been just one to three of us.

I’m not trying to run a comedy show or teach a class. I’m happy to provide the space and jump in. If someone in the group wants to help organise, recruit and handle communications, even better.

We’re always looking for new people, and it only works with a good group. Join the interest list, and if enough people sign up, we’ll get it going. No dates yet. No promises. Just a list.

Count me in

Which nights work? (optional)

This is a separate list from my newsletter. You’ll get a quick email to confirm, and I’ll only use it for practice-night news. Unsubscribe anytime.

What’s next

Level 5, and then… who knows?

In October 2026 I started Level 5, the final level at The Hashtag. Some of the classmates I’ve gone through every level with are talking about forming a troupe afterwards. I have no idea what happens next, which, if you’ve read this far, you know is kind of the whole point.

Come see a show. Take a class. Join the practice list. Or just say “yes, and” to the next weird thing that scares you a little.

See you on stage. Yes, and…

— Phil