Category: Humor

1980s Starry Awards

I haven’t been around much lately because, well… life. Also, much like Nero fiddling while Rome burned, I have spent my time working through the musical jungle of the 1980s—900 albums, give or take a few synthesizers. Ay Caramba!

In my infinite wisdom (or questionable judgment), I have decided to rank my Top 80 Songs of the 80s—a truly Herculean, thankless endeavor. And since I’m still wading through the final albums of 1989 I figured, why not make things even more ridiculous? Thus, I present my own makeshift version of the Grammy Awards, which I have oh-so-cleverly named… The Starrys. (Insert collective groan here.)

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The Curious Case of Xmas Albums

When I was a kid, my parents rented half our duplex to a lesbian schoolteacher. That arrangement went smoothly until her girlfriend’s “overnight tutoring sessions” became a bit too frequent, and she got the boot. I bring this up because this teacher once threatened to wring my neck if I didn’t stop playing the Chipmunks’ Christmas classic “Christmas Don’t Be Late” on an endless loop. Yep, I was obsessed with that song. In hindsight, I get it. Listening to Alvin and the gang whine about hula hoops 50 times in a row could push anyone to the brink.

Fortunately, I grew out of it—no more Chipmunks. In fact, I can’t remember ever buying a Christmas album, for myself or anyone else.

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Right in the Nuts

As I continue to trudge through the musical gold and platinum mines of 1971-1980, I can’t help but wonder: did people actually listen to this stuff? The sheer volume of mediocre music churned out during this time could only be explained by three quintessentially American tendencies:

  1. Questionable taste (let’s call it “poor discernment” to be polite).
  2. A suspiciously robust ability to spend money we don’t have.
  3. An insatiable hunger for entertainment, no matter how mind-numbing.
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“Notable Death” Watch – (Earl Holliman)

Earl Holliman, a name every film buff should recognize, was one of those actors who seemed to pop up everywhere—movies, television, you name it. Born on September 11 (yep, even back then, the date existed), Earl’s biological father, William A. Frost, was a farmer. Now, here’s where it gets interesting—or awkward. Earl’s mom, Mary Smith (honestly, could her name sound any more like an alias?), already had six kids under her belt when Farmer Frost strolled into the picture.

But plot twist! Mary wasn’t married, and Frost apparently thought, “You know what this struggling, impoverished woman really needs? More drama!” According to Wikipedia, Mary had no choice but to give baby Earl up for adoption because, well, poverty and solo parenting don’t exactly scream “happily ever after.”

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I got nuthin’

Conan O’Brien is a very popular comedian, and a man I regard as seriously and naturally funny. I knew very little about him until a couple of years ago when I tuned into an interview he did with Mel Brooks. I did so for Brooks, not O’Brien, but found Conan to be engaging and funny. He is also known to be nice to his employees and kind to people in general. I have learned since discovering him for myself that he does not speak ill of anyone when on air, and probably not in private either.

O’Brien comes from a family of six, raised in Brookline, MA, a suburb of Boston. He graduated from Harvard and to do so wrote an unreadable historical thesis. While at Harvard, he one day with a friend visited the Harvard Lampoon, and found his home. He became a comedy writer, never imagining that anyone would actually pay him to write like that. After graduating, he wrote for a show called Not Necessarily the News. I remember that show and watched it whenever it was on in my younger years when entertainment was not everywhere around us. Hosted by Rich Hall, it became highly regarded for its “Sniglets, or funny and satirical one-liners. One I remember clearly was labeling the square in the upper right of an envelope that said “Affix stamp here” as the “idiot box”. I have a hunch O’Brien wrote that. His observational humor is timeless. (He avoids topical humor – look elsewhere for Biden/Trump jokes.)

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Klausler Chronicles: Yahtzee

My intro here maybe a bit longish, so it you would rather jump to Dave’s essay on Yahtzee, I remind you that DSK is prone to vulgarities in his writing. Gird your loins. This reminds me of the comedian Anthony Jeselnek, who fondly remembers his grandmother reading Huckleberry Finn to him as a boy. He said she did it for two reasons: One, to have quality time with her grandson, and two, so she could use the N-word without being chastised.

I do not gamble. I have gambled in the past. In my twenties, I would go to local horse races in Billings, Montana, an annual fall event. I would bet trifecta or quinella, and as the race ended and if my horses were close, the combination of that and copious quantities of beer produced an excitement in my brain that I later learned was the same sensation given by cocaine. Once I gave up the beer, the desire to bet the ponies left too.

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The Seinfeld Chronicles

Jerry Seinfeld has enjoyed enormous success in his life. I have tried to think of other men named “Jerry” who have had similar fortune, and after Lewis and Lee Lewis, come up short. Help me out. Nicknames don’t work on serious people so well, even as friends knew him as Gerry Ford, and not Gerald. He was “Johnny ” Carson, not John.

I like Seinfeld, and do not envy him one dollar of his well-deserved popularity. Comics have a reputation of being angry. He is not angry at us. He is just annoyed. There’s a difference.

I wish him continued success, and also say this knowing he will never make another movie. He knows better, and learns sometimes the hard way. He works hard at his craft, even today trying out his material in comedy clubs to see what works and what does not. He never phones it in, never expects that people will laugh merely because he is Seinfeld. Each joke is finely crafted, each word in place, not to be substituted for another.

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Sunday stuff

Taylor Tomlinson’s imaginary illness

I watched a performance by comedian Taylor Tomlinson last night. She is young (currently 28) and having lots of success. She’s also blue, that is, quite a big of her act involves sexual experiences and attitudes about sex and guys in general. I suppose part of that is that she is very attractive, so as with, say, Iliza Shlesinger, there is an element of imagined accessibility for guys. Neither are stunners, but both exude raw sex appeal. Most guys would fantasize that they perhaps have a shot with her. That type of fantasy does not happen with true knockouts, where guys realize they have no shot.

That’s not why I am writing about her (them). Both are very funny, and I wish them both long and prosperous careers. During Tomlinson’s act, she talked about being “manic depressive”. For anyone who does not know, that condition, sometimes referred to as a “disease” and treated with antidepressants and antispychotics, probably doesn’t exist. It is like the hundreds of disorders promoted by the DSM-5, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition. There is no physical or blood or urine test that would give any indication of illness, no medical test of any kind. Like so many of the “disorders” promoted by the psychiatric profession, they are voted up or down. It’s based on symptoms, things like bouts of depression or spells of anxiety, erratic behaviors, or substance abuse.

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Friday tidbits

Stephers puts so much effort into per posts, giving them a long-lasting quality. They are still drawing comments months after posting. When she called her most recent “Part 10 of 10” I was somewhat concerned that she would not be writing anymore. However, she says that she is not done, just done with that particular series. She has much to offer, and will continue to write. For that I am thankful. Continue reading “Friday tidbits” →

Norm MacDonald is gone

I love comedy and good comedians. It is a terribly difficult profession, and those who succeed usually have years of struggle under their belt. The funniest man of my lifetime, and it is always subjective, was Mel Brooks. He was famous in years before I came of age for being the 2000 year old man, interviewed by Carl Reiner. Comedy is subjective, as I said, and I never found that bit funny. But Blazing Saddles? Hilarious! Brooks seemed to thrive in visual medium, as with Space Balls where, when teleported from one room to another, looked down and found his ass was on the front instead of the back. He chided his staff for not telling him how big it was.

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