COMEDY REVIEW : Tom Parks Weaves Low-Key Yarns Like a Funny Relative

Tom Parks is like someone’s semi-funny uncle, an uncomplicated, mild-mannered raconteur who doesn’t clutter his conversation with too much poignancy or insight--or out-and-out jokes, for that matter--but spins a yarn so agreeably that you don’t mind the occasional visit.

At the Irvine Improvisation on Thursday, Parks, who was far more anecdotal than observational, forged an ideal synthesis of material, technique and persona; he knows exactly who he is comedically and what works best for him. If, for instance, he had tried to project the aggressive confidence of a Ritch Shydner) or an Allan Havey, this stuff wouldn’t play at all.

In a way, you don’t mind that a Parks performance doesn’t provide many actual jokes to tell the next day at work (or to quote in the newspaper), partly because it’s so refreshing to run into a guy who isn’t worshiping at the altar of observational comedy. Not that he eschews observations completely. Early in the set, he acknowledged that he’s concerned about the proliferation of car telephones. “I don’t like the idea that people can call you in your automobile. ‘Cause I think there’s news you shouldn’t get at 60 miles an hour: ‘Pregnant? Ahhhhh!’ ” Then, he proposed that we may as well take the next step and get car telephone answering machines: “Tom’s at home right now. But as soon as he goes out, he’ll get right back to you.”

But his bread and butter is the longer piece. One involved the pluses and minuses of owning a house. He spent more time on the cons, detailing the story of a sewer backing into his tub, and later noting how easy it is to be sucked into the black hole of remodeling. “It started out as a paint job. Now I’m rebuilding the house. . . . I know the difference between mauve and fuchsia. No man should know the difference between mauve and fuchsia.”

Another segment dealt with how little he got out of his college education. Among the few things he did retain, he said, were two sentences from Spanish class, which translated are: “My record player is broken” and “What a pity there are two girls in the kitchen.” In explaining the limited use of such phrases, he constructed a nice, wry piece.

A disproportionately large chunk of his act is college-related--a carry-over, no doubt, from the extensive time he has logged on the college circuit. It’s not a huge drawback in itself, but it does hint that Parks may not be the most prolific guy at cranking out new material.

Indeed, some of his act could use a little spring cleaning. Early in Tuesday’s show, he noted that “(Douglas) Ginsberg was one joint away from being a Supreme Court justice. . . .” Probably the only way you’re going to get away with a reference that’s months beyond topical--and therefore way past its expiration date--is by making it an absolute knee-slapper. (The Ginsberg reference seemed even more dispensable when it became clear that it was just a way into a more dated segment on drugs.)

Most of his stuff wasn’t that moldy, though, and some was even created on the spot in a handful of exchanges with the crowd. In one of those, he asked if there were any college students in the audience. The first reply came from a student at OCC.

“ Orange Coast College ?,” Parks immediately said. “Oh, major Top Ten. What does it take to get into OCC these days--directions to the campus?” Another student said USC, which drew a chorus of boos. Parks asked if those booing were “UCLA speech and communication majors?”

While condoms easily constitute one of the most over-explored topics in stand-up these days, Parks produced a different view, filtered through his mild persecution complex: “Wanna know what the worst thing about condoms is? They are an immediate indication of how little sex you are getting. You buy 12 at the beginning of the month. At the end of the month, you’ve still got a dozen. . . . They just lie there in the sock drawer and mock you: ‘Think we’ll be going out tonight, big boy?’ ”

The Improv is at 4255 Campus Drive, Irvine. Show times: 8 p.m. Thursday and Sunday, 8:30 and 10:30 p.m. Friday, 8 and 10:30 p.m. Saturday. Tickets: $7 to 10. Information: (714) 854-5455.