Punch Line? Feeling Fine! The Tears of a Clown are the Saddest

Judd Apatow's Sicker in the Head hit me the same way that his first book, Sick in the Head did.  Which is to say that it's not a laugh-a-minute collection of interviews with comedians and entertainers, but an introspective look at how the comedy sausage is made.  And one of the main ingredients, unsurprisingly, is emotional damage.  Because for all its seeming frivolity, comedy is a coping mechanism.  And if laughter is the best medicine, then comedians self medicate.  Apatow puts it best in his foreword:

"I have always seen comedy as a lifeline -- which is why I've been interviewing comedians about why they do what they do since I was fifteen years old.  Without comedy, I don't know how I would survive.  When the pandemic was at full force, I grabbed my family and made a really silly movie.  I didn't know what else to do.  Is that healthy?  Is it denial?  Is it medicine?  Is it sick?  I am not sure.  But now I know that when the world seems to be collapsing my reaction is to make a movie about a group of people having a meltdown during a pandemic as they attempt to make a movie about flying dinosaurs." (Apatow XII)

Apatow picks the brains of many beloved funny people, including Jimmy Kimmel, John Mulaney, Mindy Kaling, Pete Davidson, and Samantha Bee, ending, appropriately, with Will Ferrell.  Because who better than the guy who wrote "I've got a fever -- and the only prescription is more cowbell" to close a conversation about being sick in the head?  Ferrell talks about that, how the idea for the famous Blue Oyster Cult sketch came to him because he roots for the underdog:

"Even just the notion of driving along and listening to "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," by Blue Oyster Cult and hearing a faint sound of a cowbell.  I don't know how I had that idea.  I remember, the first time I heard that song, for some reason I focused on the cowbell, and I immediately thought, What's that guy's life like?  Does he ever get to hang out?  The sad weirdo who's trying to be a part of the group really appeals to me." (451)

Me too, Will.  Me too. 

Summer Stuns Before the Fall

Last night, long after John Mulaney's latest social commentary musical on SNL, I finished reading Jennifer Weiner's latest novel, That Summer.  If the title sounds familiar, then that's because Weiner's book before that was called Big Summer.  Although That Summer isn't its sequel, it does harbor an Easter egg.  

The book jacket doesn't say what it's really about, so maybe I shouldn't say either.  I will say that there are two strangers named Diana (although one goes by Daisy) who find out they share a disturbing bond.  What they decide to do about it will resonate with women everywhere.  

Here are two of my favorite quotes:

On Daisy.  Or rather, on what she thinks her daughter thinks of her:

"Worse, she suspected that Beatrice thought that cooking, cleaning, homemaking, all of what used to be called the domestic arts, were women's work.  A yoke that Daisy wore, of her own choosing, boundaries past which she did not stray; all of it part of a world that Beatrice and her generation had evolved beyond." (80)

On Diana.  Or rather, on what she thinks her coworkers think of her:

"She was sure her colleagues were engaging in some collective Baby Boom fantasy, where she was a bitchy, big-city ice queen who needed some salt-of-the-earth loving, maybe even a baby or three, to make her a woman again." (138)

Both women deal with female stereotypes that eat away at who they really are.  Just as both are victims of circumstances created by men.  Or, rather, by one man.  

To echo Michael Stipe, "Oh no, I've said too much.  I haven't said enough."

The end.