You Had to Be There

Can you read that? Trust me, it's not worth it!

My first experiences with “comedy” included watching those horrible, sadistic Three Stooges on TV. Even at age four, I was repulsed by their face smacking, hair pulling, nose twisting antics. Even now, knowing that there are people walking around who think “Jackass” is funny, I am appalled that what the Stooges did was considered hilarious.  

More understandable, I suppose, were the fans of the misogynist comics of the 1950s, Milton Berle, Henny Youngman and the like. But did ANY woman really find “Take my wife. Please” humorous? And, on the flip side, how about Phyllis Diller’s painful routines featuring her hubby “Fang”? Was EVERYONE that miserable with their spouses? 

 

Steve, being older than me, remembers enjoying early Bob Newhart and Nichols and May (and much of their material stands the test of time). By the time I could purchase albums, I went for George Carlin and Martin Mull and Robert Klein. What was once considered outrageous, now sounds quaint (Carlin’s Seven Words You Can’t Say on TV still has some shock value, but several of the words are commonly used now by all kinds of people). 

 

Looking waaaaay back, I found some Victorian humor that is mildly amusing, believe it or not: 

“I once loved a young girl, but, alas! she wasn’t made for me.”

“Then you didn’t marry her?”

“Yes, I did. That’s why I know.”

...though most of it is stilted and quite un-funny to modern sensibilities. 

 

And yes, I know Shakespeare wrote comedies, and some situations and lines are recognizable as such. But, try as I might, I cannot laugh helplessly at: 

“Thou Banbury cheese!” (from Merry Wives of Windsor. Maybe Gorgonzola would’ve worked better?)

 

Here in the 21^st century, there is so much comedic material out there that it’s like a firehose: standup, videos, improv, and so on. Emerging as a well-known name in such an overcrowded field is so much harder than it was back when your choices were whoever made it on Ed Sullivan. I can’t help but wonder who the comedy stars of tomorrow (i.e. 50 years from now) will be. And what material will audiences find so knee-slappingly funny? 

 

A few guesses:

 

Climate Change (“Hey, has anybody seen where Florida went?”)

Pandemics (“I’m old enough to remember when we only had one at a time!”)

A.I. (“My next joke is of unknown origin, and it isn’t remotely funny, but I’m programmed to deliver it anyway.”)

V.R. (“Put on that big clunky headset and it'll feel like you’re one of the Three Stooges!”)

Space Travel: (“To the moon, Alice!”—sorry, wrong century)

 

And the comedians themselves? I predict they’ll all be triple or quadruple threats, like our 52nd President Taylor Swift, cracking boyfriend jokes as she powers through her 43-song concert set and cures cancer. 

 

In truth, I have no clue what will tickle the funny bones of the future.

 

But if 2100 does call, I’d better be ready with a zinger or two.

 

“Thou cell-cultured meat!” 

 

Thank you. I’m here all week.