"Ted Alexandro is truly one of the nicest guys in comedy," says Trey Galyon. He then quickly back-steps to clarify. "Most of the time, when you say someone's a nice guy, it means they're not funny. But he's the complete opposite. He's a nice guy and he's hilarious."
It's the first time to Charleston for either (although Galyon's grandfather served on the Yorktown — watch out, Patriot's Point), and both single men say they're excited to hit the town running.
When Ted Alexandro first appeared on Late Night with Conan O'Brien 10 years ago, he was still teaching music at an elementary school by day. After switching from music to an education degree in college, Alexandro worked for five years in front of a room of prepubescents.
"In a roundabout way, teaching made me comfortable in front of people," says Alexandro, who has now hosted two Comedy Central specials, traveled the world doing stand-up, and performed on nearly every late-night talk show. "Getting peoples' attention, making what you're saying interesting — these things are important to teaching and are certainly cross-over skills that help me on stage."
With a solid 15 minutes of schoolyard material, the experience also helped feed the comic's brain. "When you go back as an adult into an elementary school environment, it's kind of surreal," says Alexandro. "It jars a lot of memories from the past."
Alexandro toured the Middle East last spring, including stops in Kuwait where swearing, sex, and religion were no-no topics. Even his 'clean' set went over to raucous approval.
"Comedy can act as a bridge, changing perceptions and broadening peoples' understanding of one another," says Alexandro. "It's great to be able to make people of all races, religions, and creeds laugh, even if you can't say 'shit.'"
In 37 years, Trey Galyon has never had a girlfriend on Christmas, New Year's Eve, or Valentine's Day.
"I have an incredible streak going," he explains. "I like girls. I'm familiar with them. I've hung out with a lot of them. I've even let a few of them touch me in my no-no places, and returned the favor, but the longest relationship I've had was four months."
An architect by day, he's become accustomed to being fired. Before leaving his hometown of Austin, Texas, for Brooklyn two years ago, he found himself given the pink slip for outing a coworker.
"He left his computer up. I went into his e-mail and sent out a message to everybody on his friends list," Galyon recalls. "It was in a totally over-the-top way, like, 'I just want to let you guys know that I'm totally gay. So gay that the Dallas Cowboys want me to play for them.' But the kid got pissed. I've never seen anybody get so mad, which kind of made me think he might be gay."
The child of Texas-based missionaries, Galyon takes the preacher's kid stereotype to new levels. When his dad got a camera phone, he programmed a photo of his ass crack to appear every time his sister called.
He takes a fearless approach to comedy, often taking the stage with only a punch line, forcing himself to flesh out a joke in front of the audience.
"That's where most of the writing happens for me — in a panic," says Galyon, who largely avoids pop culture jokes, saying he's not willing to compromise comedic integrity for fame.
"Hell for me is having to hang out with Spencer Pratt and his wife. It's pretty disgusting how many people get their 15 minutes nowadays," says Galyon. "Although I'd go to dinner with the cast of Jersey Shore any day of the week."