Growing Up Laughing_ My Story and the Story of Funny - Marlo Thomas [102]
“How was it?” I asked my mother.
“They stood!” she said, proudly.
You can take the girl out of the club . . .
Not long after that, I decided it would be a good idea to take Mom to the movies, as another distraction. I scoured the paper for a film that wouldn’t bring up any sad memories for her. No love stories, no showbiz stories, no family stories. I finally found a lightweight comedy that I thought she might get a laugh or two out of; and even if it wasn’t any good, at least it would be harmless, and not anything that would make her emotional.
We bought our tickets, settled into our seats and the movie began. Just as I had hoped, the film was pretty bland, and I was feeling good about my choice.
Then suddenly, Mother burst into tears. I was dumbfounded.
“Mother, Mother, what is it?” I frantically whispered.
“These people are so untalented,” Mother wailed, “and Daddy’s dead!”
Chapter 51
The Only Jew in the Neighborhood—Jon Stewart
He’s got wit, charm, savvy and bottomless smarts. But there’s one thing Jon Stewart doesn’t have: a fourth wall. He’s removed it. He looks right at us, rolls his eyes, shakes his fists and plays the joke directly to us, as if we were sitting across the desk from him. And because of this rapport, we feel we can trust him. We know he’ll call the game the way he sees it. His Daily Show fan base has come to depend on him for their nightcap of laughter, whether he’s cracking wise or expressing outrage. But he’s also a comedy guy who is taken very seriously, often hailed as a dominant voice in 21st century America. But he sure doesn’t take himself seriously. From our first “Hello,” I felt I was talking to an old friend. One who can always make me laugh.
—M.T.
Marlo: Do you have any idea how many comedy addicts adore The Daily Show?
Jon: Actually, we try to keep ourselves in as much of a bubble as possible. If I start feeling like, Oh my God—people like me!, I’ll start screwing up for sure.
Marlo: Most comedians found their comic voice in their childhood, some of the older ones in their immigrant neighborhoods. What about you?
Jon: My childhood was different from the days of the old comics. I grew up in the suburban Seventies, and the stories about it are so banal. In the old days, there was much more romance. More character. People spoke with old world accents; there was more of a connection to our roots.
Marlo: I know, my grandma used to spit on my head when people said I had beautiful eyes.
Jon: See, I never got that! Why wouldn’t anyone spit on my head?
Marlo: Clearly you were deprived.
Jon: Exactly.
Marlo: Was there anyone in your childhood who could make you laugh?
Jon: My grandfather possessed this really dry sense of humor. Everybody has two weird sides of their family. One is the loud, screaming, Lower East Side family; the other is your stereotypical, newspaper-reading, quiet side. It’s sort of like the two Jews—the Sephardic and Ashkenazic, you know?
Marlo: Right. So you made your grandfather laugh?
Jon: I tried desperately. But I think it was him who made me laugh. Billy Crystal always talks about how he used to perform in front of his family, but I think the suburbs were a more isolating existence. For me, there wasn’t this sense of the family hearth, with everybody sitting around, and Aunt Sylvia flapping her arms and telling stories. That was much more of a traditional Billy Crystal–Sid Caesar way to grow up.
I grew up more as an outsider. I was the only Jew in the neighborhood, as opposed to, you know, living in a family of people who got chased out of their homeland by the pogrom and were now living in Massapequa. I guess it’s a generational thing.
Marlo: Still, being the only Jew in the