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​Jaki Logan
From Fan to the Green Room — My Life in Comedy (Without Ever Planning It)
I’ve always been a comedy fan. Long before I ever found myself working behind the scenes, stepping on stage, or being known as “the burd” or “Wee Burdie” to half the circuit, I was just someone who loved a good laugh and followed the comedy world from the audience.
Back in the RockNess festival days, I was lucky enough to meet loads of comedians who were just starting out. They were up-and-coming, grafting, doing spots, finding their feet — and you could feel something special building even then. One person I met was Darren Connell. Through Darren, and a bit of flanter in the comments of one of his Facebook posts, I ended up adding Chris Dinwoodie (of Enterteasement).
That was around 2012.
It then took two whole years for Chris to eventually ask me out… and another 11 for him to propose. Comedians and timekeeping, eh!?
Our first date was on Valentine’s Day, armed with comp tickets to Jongleurs kindly sorted by the brilliant Stu Who. And the rest, as they say, was history.
Being the partner of a comedian/magician is a strange and brilliant thing. You end up surrounded by one of the funniest, maddest, most creative industries going. You can’t watch TV or scroll on TikTok without spotting someone you know. And your pals are constantly messaging you saying they fancy this comedian or that one — usually Gary Meikle, to be honest.
Over the last 16 years, I’ve gone from the odd comedy gig here and there to being properly involved in what was, at the time, one of the best comedy shows in Glasgow — Enterteasement. I got to meet some amazing people, became friends with people I once looked up to from the audience, and watched the guys who were doing 10–15 minute spots go on to sell out their own tours. Seeing that growth up close has been incredible.
But I didn’t just sit in the audience.
I’ve attended hundreds of gigs. I’ve worked them too. I’ve done the door, ran sound, helped with PR, booked acts, dealt with the panic of a headliner not showing up, and even had to kick folk out more than once. You name it, I’ve probably done it.
And then, two years ago, I thought — why not? I started performing comedy myself.
Watching it and helping behind the scenes is one thing. Actually getting up there and doing it is something else entirely. Once you’re on that side of the mic, you realise just how much goes into it. The writing. The thinking. The nerves. The late nights. The long drives. The terrible gigs. The amazing gigs. It’s a hell of a ride.
Doing my own sets gave me a much deeper appreciation for the art form and the people who dedicate their lives to it. It also did wonders for my confidence. Every person I met, from all corners of the comedy world, taught me something — not just about performing, but about backing yourself.
Last year, I decided to step away from the mic. The reality of the time and effort it takes just wasn’t quite gelling for me, and that’s okay. Not every part of the journey is forever.
I’m still a massive fan. I’ll still be at gigs. I’ll still be cheering from the side, supporting the people I care about and the scene that’s given me so much.
And who knows — I’ll probably see you in a green room somewhere soon. x