This story is a guest article from arts and culture writer Toni Tresca.
Christie Buchele didn’t set out to be a comedian. She “fell” into comedy in 2010 when she went to see a cute guy do an open mic at the now-closed Shorty’s Sports Grill in Evans.
“The show featured six nice guys doing some very hacky stuff, and I remember thinking, ‘Wow, I could do this better.'” Buchele recalled. “After the open mic, my friends and I went to another bar, where they were talking about his set, but I was thinking, ‘You got to do this,’ so loudly that I could not concentrate on their conversation.”
Buchele, who has cerebral palsy, started practicing material based on her disability and set a date to perform the act one month later. “I was up late the night before studying Comedy Central videos and couldn’t sleep; I thought if I studied hard enough, I could do well,” she said. “But it doesn’t work that way. I was so scared; my voice was shaking, and I was clutching a piece of paper with my notes.”
Her first show was on March 27, 2010, at the same club where Buchele had seen her crush perform. She remembers this date because it is her divorced parents’ wedding anniversary.
“Come to think of it, my relationship with comedy has lasted longer than their marriage, but that first set was extremely embarrassing,” Buchele admitted. “All of my jokes were ‘You might be crippled if,’ because I grew up listening to Jeff Foxworthy with my dad, so ‘You might be a redneck if’ was the only joke structure I knew off the top of my head. It was a rough act, but I still do it every year for my anniversary to show how far I have come.”
Initially, Buchele pursued comedy while studying to become a teacher. Teaching had always been the plan and was the “safer bet” in her mind. “I didn’t even say I was a comedian until I had been doing comedy for two years,” she said. “Even though I was actively doing comedy, it took me a while to start taking myself that seriously as a comedian.”
Despite the difficulties of getting started, she met some well-known Denver comedians who offered assistance. One of the comics who inspired Buchele to continue pursuing the art form was Josh Blue, a well-known Colorado comedian with the same disability.
“My disability was a big reason why I never thought I’d do comedy,” Buchele said. “I hadn’t heard of Josh before I got started, but it was always cool to learn from him.”
Blue’s presence in the Denver comedy scene showed her that her disability could be a source of strength. Though Buchele felt more obligated to discuss her cerebral palsy when she first started, it is no longer a prominent feature of her act.
“I’ve just done a lot of therapy around it, so I’ve learned I don’t need to focus as much on it,” she said. “However, it is a big part of my experience, and it has taken a long time to get audiences comfortable with laughing at my disability. Especially when you do go to the clubs and your first set is only two or three minutes, it’s really hard to bring up your disability and get them dying laughing in three minutes.”
Occasionally, Buchele notices that audiences will still get squeamish when she starts making jokes about living with cerebral palsy. However, she now leans on the advice of Ms. Pat, a comedian who frequently jokes about her traumatic life in her act.
“Ms. Pat has a rough story, but her philosophy is, ‘I don’t have a different life for you, so if you don’t like it, get up and go,’ and that attitude was helpful,” Buchele said.
Buchele gets frustrated when people tell her not to mention her disability or label her comedy as self-deprecating.
“Being disabled is just part of my identity,” she said. “It’s not a sad thing, but they’re like, ‘Oh, don’t say that about yourself,’ which is not something people would do to other minorities. If I were a Black man, no one would say, ‘Don’t say you’re Black,’ so to get offended by my disability is such a weird thing. If an audience gets weird, it is their problem, not mine; honestly, I could write a book about it.”
And she plans to do exactly that. Buchele is working on a memoir about her experience as a woman with a disability in a predominantly male field.
“Most women don’t stick around long enough to become good because they have to deal with so much shit in a system that isn’t designed to support us.”
The formation of the now-defunct Pussy Bros, a collective of female comedians, was a watershed moment in Buchele’s career. “It was the first time I had other women to bounce off struggles and ideas with,” she said. “That group made us realize how much shit we had been through in the Denver comedy scene. It also made us think about playing to more women in the audience than just men.”
But she has also seen the best in the comedy world. One of Buchele’s most influential mentors was Deacon Gray, the former new talent coordinator at Comedy Works. His guidance and support were pivotal in her development as a comedian. When Gray was diagnosed with cancer in 2014, the outpouring of support from the comedy community deeply moved Buchele.
“His effect on other people changed my life,” Buchele said. “Deacon was able to stay in his home till the end and comics were coming from all over the country to sit by his bedside and make jokes. It was such a beautiful death, and I thought to myself, ‘If that was the end for me, that would be amazing.’ I truly couldn’t ask for a better death.”
Beyond performing, Buchele is dedicated to nurturing new talent as the director of stand-up at RISE Comedy. “Everyone deserves to be able to tell their story,” Buchele said. “I think most people are funny; they just have to figure out how to tell a joke, which is what I can teach.”
Her teaching philosophy prioritizes encouragement over criticism, particularly for underrepresented voices. This approach is informed by her personal experiences in the local comedy scene.
“To stay safe in the world, underrepresented voices must constantly think about what they are doing wrong, so I always try to focus on giving feedback based on what worked and what can be improved rather than simply telling people what sucked,” Buchele said. “My comedy training was harsh. You had to go through fire and brimstone to be respected as a comedian, which kept only white straight men coming back while driving everyone else away.”
Reflecting on her journey, Buchele remains humble and focused on her goals. She prefers to stay rooted in Denver, contributing to its vibrant comedy scene, rather than seeking fame elsewhere. “I do not want to go to LA because I think it sucks,” she said. “And New York requires a lot of walking, so I’m very interested in making Denver great.”
