Saturday, September 13, 2003


I just saw Jerry Seinfeld's "Comedian," which, in addition to indicating how incredibly assful nightclub audiences can be, actually contained some great wisdom. Jerry was speaking with a young (also assful, come to think of it) comedian who was fretting over where he was in his career.... or, to be more specific, where he wasn't. "I see my friends working on Wall Street," he says, "and they have jobs and families and careers, and I think about how little progress I"ve made, and I get worried." And you know what Seinfeld said? He made this "What are you talking about" face and said, "What are you talking about? Wall Street? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It is good for me to hear this," I said, for indeed, the fact that the great majority of my friends are normal and settled and reproducing doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with where I am now. What I do is completely separate from their goals, and I can't measure my writing career by, say, the standards of those for an ad executive.

Seinfeld told a story about a jazz band whose airplane crashed in a field, and they had to hoist their instruments and go walking through the snow to get to their gig. And they passed a house where a cozy little family sat in a Normal Rockwell scene-- mother, father, dog, fireplace, 2.5 kids, the works. And one of the musicians said, "Why would anyone want to live like that?"

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