Standing on an outdoor stage with his acoustic guitar in hand, Tim Dimond approached the microphone. In front of him was a massive wall of freshmen. Orientation was normally a time for checking out activity booths, mingling with other incoming students, and chatting with invited upperclassmen about what to expect at Carnegie Mellon. Not exactly a crowd revved up and ready for a guy that billed himself as The Singing Comedian. Dimond, though, was undaunted.
For the Decision Science major by day and singing comedian by night, "comedy is a social activity," and wherever there's an audience, there's an opportunity, even at orientation. So a few times a week the fourth-year student slogs from his place to Skibo, or wherever there's a mike, and puts on a show. There's no substitute for stage time.
During his sophomore year, he won Mr. Fraternity, a Greek talent show. It was the first talent contest he'd ever won. Then, in his junior year, came a 45-minute set at UC Late Nite, the first time he'd ever earned a performance paycheck--$100 and change. It marked the beginning of what he hopes will be a professional career.
As he plowed through his act at orientation, he noticed--after a song or two of his irreverent, rowdy routine--that the freshmen were beginning to crowd around the stage. They were in on the joke.
Dimond has spent the past four years not only getting his degree, but also honing his comedy, which covers everything from animal crackers to taboo subjects. "I write all my best material during boring lectures," he laughs.
Although most of his buddies are putting on ties and hitting job fairs, Dimond's graduation plan entails slinging his guitar over his back and traveling to New York City, crashing on a friend's couch, and making the big time.
Just before he broke into his closing signature song at orientation, Dimond noticed that the freshmen had created a sea of people gleefully surrounding the stage. Then, when he hit the chorus of his finale, that familiar performance buzz washed over him as he realized that hundreds of incoming frosh had picked up on his catchy R-rated lyrics and were raucously singing along, and, in a way, helping convince him of his future.
--Bradley A. Porter (HS'08)
