Don't you just want to laugh sometimes? Or put another way, don't you just need to laugh sometimes?

In the late '80s and early '90s, finding a place to laugh was fairly easy. Comedy clubs were everywhere. Find a space, cram some tables in, and you had yourself a club. It was fun at first, but with some clubs serving up six acts a night, the doors were opened to a lot of mediocre comedians. The image of a comic pacing in front of a brick wall, microphone in hand, became a worn-out cliche: "... and can someone please tell me: What is the deal with those little packets of peanuts they serve on planes? (Comedian taps the microphone) Is this thing on?"

With familiarity came disinterest, and the boom slowly died. But even though the prominence of comedy has diminished, it never went away. Now, according to some comics on the circuit, it is beginning to make a huge comeback.

America, it seems, is once again searching for a really good laugh.

"It's always been a cyclical business," Eric Haines said as he waited for his turn to take the stage at the Royal Pacific Restaurant and Lounge in Corvallis. "The real pros know that a lot of the job is just having the toughness to stick with it. It's a tough job, but when you can connect with an audience, get them really laughing, there's nothing else like it," he said.

Haines is not, strictly speaking, a stand-up comic. He refers to himself as an entertainer. His job, he said, is to entertain, which he defines — simply — as connecting with his audience, no matter who they are. His arsenal for doing this is deep and varied. He juggles, he sings funny songs, he rides a six-foot unicycle. When he's working outdoors, he will even do a little fire-eating. "Wherever the audience is, the job is the same — to make that connection," Haines said. "I've done birthday parties for 6-year olds in the afternoon, and performed at some grimy biker bar a few hours later. I change the routine, but it's essentially the same process at either place."

Haines is the evening's headliner at Royal Pacific. Each Friday night for the past six or seven years (no one seems to remember when it actually started) the Corvallis bar has presented two comics. The crowd filtering in as we wait for the show seems to consist mostly of university students out looking to relax after a week of classes. Between questions, both Haines and Ray Lawrence, who will open the evening's show, turn their attention to the assembling crowd, sizing them up with a practiced eye — who are the easy laughers, who's the tough sell?

Lawrence, who came from Portland for tonight's show, is originally from Liverpool, England, though his brogue reminded me more of Scottish comedian Billy Connelly. "Portland to Corvallis? That's nothing. I once drove to Klamath Falls for a gig, and then back the same night," Lawrence said.

Haines has Lawrence beat for traveling, however. He started out his day in Missoula, Mont., and now, after a long day's drive that would leave most people ready to relax, his work is only beginning. Such traveling, the comics say, is one of the biggest parts of the job as a stand-up comic. "A lot of people think they can get up on stage and be funny," Haines said. "The question is: Can you get up, be funny, drive 600 miles, and do it again, then the next day, then the next?" Haines said his record for traveling between gigs came about a decade ago when he and a friend drove 1,200 miles for a gig — a distance even he admits was "probably not the best idea."

"My friend and I were traveling as a comedy act. Someone dropped out of a gig. and we took it. We finished up one gig at 11:30 p.m., jumped in the car and took turns driving. We got to the other gig just in time, driving non-stop."

At 9:30, a Royal Pacific employee takes the stage and introduces the comics. The crowd seems tired, the energy level is subdued. At the university, dead week has just finished and finals are looming. Lawrence takes the microphone and starts working the crowd, trying to find their level. Comedy at this point is like boxers sparring — one of the crowd's tough sells has taken a seat right in front of the stage, his arms crossed, face scowling. Lawrence continues on, apparently unfazed, jabbing high and low.

Lawrence came to comedy later in life, inspired, he said, to fulfill a lifelong dream he didn't even know he had. Growing up in Liverpool, he would watch pantomime plays. He especially enjoyed the comic character, who in the middle of every play would have an extended comic monologue that might not necessarily have anything to do with the play. In his 40s, he began to hang out at open mike nights as he gathered his courage to take a chance on stage. "When I started getting laughs, the surge was incredible. I love it when I can get the audience going along. It's such a powerful feeling," he said.

Lawrence is trying to find that surge now. He tries low humor, jokes, one-liners, drug references, jokes about Albany versus Corvallis, England versus America. He makes an appeal for the support of troops stationed overseas ... anything to find out where the audience's mood is.

It's a tough-sell crowd. If anything, the guy sitting down front has increased his scowl. Lawrence keeps going with cheerful resolve. Gradually, the audience begins to laugh a little, and then a little more. By the end of his set, the audience has loosened up and seems ready to let go.

Haines is introduced and races up on stage, full of manic energy. His style is more demanding. He cajoles the audience, shining a flashlight at people until they give him the response he wants. But in a way, he's also telling them: "You really are allowed to laugh, you know."

Haines starts his set with a love song performed to one of the girls in the audience. The song has a chorus, and Haines insists that people sing along, shining his flashlight on people to see if they are complying. "If you don't want to sing, at least move your lips," he says, demonstrating how to move lips with a series of comical facial expressions. His energy his overwhelming, and I was surprised to see that by the time the song's third chorus rolled around, even the tough sell in the front row was singing along.

"Entertaining is just a conversation the performer has with his audience," Haines said after the show. "But sometimes, you have to get the audience talking." The rest of the show, Haines mixes songs with Vaudeville stunts such as juggling and unicycling, neither of which are well suited for Royal Pacific's low ceiling.

Nevertheless, Haines always seems to have an unlimited number of tricks to pull out of his hat. His hour set passes quickly, and the audience seems pleased. As the tables and chairs brought out for the show are put away, Haines packs up his props before heading off to his motel room, another gig behind him. The next night, he's due in Eureka, Calif. Before going to sleep, he has to call about road conditions in the southern mountains and along the coast.

It's all in a day's work for a traveling entertainer.

Humor Happens

Comedy night takes over Royal Pacific Restaurant and Lounge, 800 N.W. Ninth St., Corvallis, at 9:30 p.m. every Friday. Each show has a featured comedian opening the show in a half-hour set, and a headliner who has an hour set.

The cover is $5. For reservations and information, call 758-1720. Admission is for age 21 and older.