Pete Davidson slays with personal stories

Phones sealed in pouches for the show

Given how his shows can turn on a dime, comedian Pete Davison’s Colorado Springs stop could not have run smoother. Davidson and his two openers cruised through a combined 90 minutes of comedy, each handing off the mic directly to the next. 

 

I missed Jerry Seinfeld and many more, but Davidson seemed like he would be a good bet for a night in town. As home to the local symphony orchestra, the Pikes Peak Center in Colorado Springs is a strong venue for comedy shows of that scale. 

Davidson might not have hit Seinfeld fame yet, but he essentially plays himself most acting roles and retains a likability despite his famous significant others. 

While likable, he does’t shy from his fights with addiction, the defining trauma of losing his firefighter dad on 9/11, or the sudden fame from dating numerous famous women. 

Saturday Night Live alumns usually don’t become famous on fame alone. So that feels like a lot to contend with. 

As with most comedy shows these days, all phones had to be secured in pouches upon entering so no recordings could escape the building. Since comedians road-test material for future comedy specials, it makes sense. Who wants their whole routine spoiled before they depart for the next tour spot?

Davidson did his share of Colorado-centric riffing. He came back to weed and mushrooms, mentioned the altitude as everyone does. He immediately delved into psychedelic mushrooms, which are just decriminalized and not available in stores like marijuana. “Wasted a day finding that out,” he quipped.

Davison had hit Denver, Boulder, Fort Collins and even Grand Junction on his tour. He turned attention to his stop at Grand Junction, citing it as one of the few towns where he decided not to wander around. He asked the concierge where to go in town and received the concern reply of “Stay.” 

In the centerpiece of his set, he talked at length about his car accident, the merits of driving a Toyota Sienna (they go 120 mph and no one ever messes with you). His rented Escalade crashed into the garage of a house scheduled for demolition. When his 50 hours of community service involved shadowing a world-renown clinician (his nurse sister arranged the placement), he got into the long medical resumes of the other followers. His reply – “I drove into a house.” 

Not all of it is relatable, but Davidson’s low-key delivery brings his most out-of-reach celebrity moments down to earth. 

He freely talks about himself as a broken person, which seems sad from a 30-year-old guy. Maybe I found Davidson so relatable despite his fame because of the pathos that other comedians hide so well. 

With Davison, it’s never far away, but manages not to drag down the comedy. He moves onto the next joke and doesn't dwell on that feeling for too long.