It comes for us all

As my friend and colleague Grace says, it comes for us all.

I was starting to feel invincible. And why not? I’m vaxxed to the max, with the exception of the very latest update. I’ve gone through four years and God knows how many variants of covid without getting it. I was beginning to think maybe I was one of those rare humans whose immune system just took it out before I even knew it was there. When I’ve been informed by friends who came down with it that I was unintentionally exposed, it never laid a glove on me.

It comes for us all.

Last week I was in Sunnyvale on business. Felt great the whole time I was there. When I flew back Thursday I was a little fatigued, but chalked it up to not sleeping well in hotel rooms. I tested Thursday afternoon, then again Friday morning. Both negative.

But Friday was a really bad day. I felt like Wile E. Coyote after the anvil hit him in the head. Saturday morning’s test, as you can see, was positive.

It comes for us all.

I forgot to mention that the wife has it right now as well. She thought she had a slight cold when I left for my trip, and during the trip tested positive. So maybe I picked it up from her and it was incubating while I was away.

Marriage, amIrite?

I can’t take Paxlovid because it conflicts in a big way with another med I’m on. So I’m taking Lagevrio, another anti-viral that doesn’t have the bad interaction, but is about fifty-percent less effective. I’ll take it. Something’s better than nothing.

Doctors tell me I still have to isolate from my wife because she may have a different strain, and her viral load may be higher.

By the way, Viral Load. Great band. Saw them at the Troubadour in ’98. (You’re welcome Rich).

Alright, going back to my daughter’s old bedroom where I’ve been isolating, and going to finish watching Season 3 of The Bear. Again.

Should you catch it, and I genuinely hope you don’t, just lay low. Fluids and rest, fluids and rest, fluids and rest. Also Robitussen and Advil. And don’t feel bad about it.

It comes for us all.

Back-to-back Tonys

I’ve often said my wife has a criminal mind. She’s demonstrated that many, many times in the course of our long, solid, loving, wonderful marriage (Ding! Ding! Ding! Marriage points!).

In the traditions we’ve come to cherish as a couple, one we always look forward to every couple of years is our binge of The Sopranos. Romantic, amIrite?

We recently finished this year’s viewing, but here’s where things took a turn. The minute we saw the very last scene in the final, controversial episode, she turned to me and said, “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, and being married to you makes me the luckiest girl in the world!”

Nah, I’m just funnin’ ya. She said let’s watch it again. The wife wanted to watch The Sopranos start to finish again after we’d just watched it start to finish.

What’reyougonnado?

So back to the beginning we went. This time, she took a deep dive, listening to the Talking Sopranos podcast with Michael Imperioli, who played Christopher Moltesanti, and Steven Schirripa who played Bobby Baccalieri.

This allowed her to give me the play-by-play and behind-the-scenes inside story to each episode we rewatched, while we were watching it.

And who doesn't love someone telling a story and talking over the tv when you're trying to watch one of your favorite shows.

Now, as you may know if you’ve followed this blog for any amount of time — and if you have, you might want to reconsider your priorities in life — I’ve binged Breaking Bad a crazy number of times (16). But Breaking Bad is a solo binge for me, because the wife finds that show too dark.

However, she has no problem at all with the plethora of inventive murders, strangulations, cursing, dismembering, horse-burning (we still miss you Pie-O-My), car crashes, strippers, raw sex, nudity and drug addiction portrayed on The Sopranos.

Now that I think about it, that either makes me the luckiest guy in the world, or someone who needs to sleep with one eye open.

Retiring the bit

When it comes to comedy, there's been no shortage of male/female teams.

Nicols and May. Stiller and Meara. Lucy and Desi. Sid and Imogene. Burns and Allen.

Each of them has a famous bit, a signature routine that always kills when they perform it.

My wife and I know the feeling.

We happen to have a few comedy stylings of our own. And while our teaming isn't nearly as famous as some of those others, hilarity still ensues when the occasion calls for it, and we decide to bring the funny. It's safe to say our most popular bit by far is "The Wedding Guests."

If you haven't caught our act at any nuptials lately, here's how it plays. When the requisite wedding videographer finally wanders over to us to record a comment for posterity about the bride and groom, or the DJ starts passing around the mic for a toast, we launch into it.

The premise is that we stumbled into the wedding by accident, get the bride and groom's name wrong, and then the wife corrects me.

Let's for arguments sake say the couple's real names are Bob and Susan. It would go a little something like this:

ME: We actually don't know anyone here. We were driving down (name of street the wedding venue is on) looking for the Boot Barn, when we heard this music coming out of here. So we came in, and it was great cause there was all this free food. But, as long as we're here, we'd like to give our best wishes and congratulations to Steven and Christina...

(The wife taps me on the shoulder, pulls me aside and whispers something in my ear)

ME:...I mean Bob and Susan, for a long, loving happy marriage.

And end scene.

It always gets a laugh from the crowd. And the fact that they've probably had a few champagne toasts before they get to us doesn't hurt. But still, funny is funny.

Well, it is right up until the couple thinks you've actually forgotten their real names. Then, not so funny. I have a sneaking suspicion that's what may have happened at our latest performance.

It's never happened before, and actually it never occurred to us that it could. But the last thing we'd ever want to do is add additional stress to what should otherwise be the best day of their lives.

We apologized right after in case they thought we really got it wrong. But let me apologize again. Here. Worldwide. (I don't know if the comedy will translate to the many countries who read this blog, but humor is the universal language. Right after money, prestige and oil).

Anyway, to avoid any future misunderstandings, the wife and I have made the decision to retire the bit. From now on, when we go to weddings and are asked to say a little something for or about the bride and groom, that's just what we'll do. And we'll use their correct names the first time out to make sure they know that we know exactly who they are.

Besides, if I'm going for laughs, I can always do the scene from The Graduate at the ceremony.

What is it with getting better?

This past Thursday night I saw Jerry Seinfeld at the Long Beach Terrace Theater. It was the second time I've seen him perform there, but not the second time I've seen him.

The first time was many years ago at the Paramount Theater in Seattle, just as his summer replacement series The Seinfeld Chronicles (later just Seinfeld) was picked up by the network. I have to admit prior to that I'd always had kind of a non-opinion of him. I felt he just did the observational humor, stayed away from anything political or edgy, and was just middle of the road.

You know, what Leno turned into.

That was when I went into the Paramount. When I came out, I was a convert.

I've also seen him in Vegas on New Year's Eve at the Thomas & Mack Center at UNLV.It's a tough crowd because everyone is just waiting to shout at midnight. But within one or two jokes, he had them. The show started at 9:30 so he was onstage at midnight, and he brought us all humorously into the new year.

And by the way, try getting a cab in Vegas on New Years Eve. You'll need a few laughs.

Anyway, each time I see him, it begs the same question: How good can this guy get?

His standup is the most highly polished, precision tuned performance you'll ever see a comedian give. And the real beauty of it is you feel as if he's delivering it off the top of his head, in the moment, just for you for the first time.

The observations are astute. They are dissected in a way that points out the foolishness or brilliance of the subject at hand. The material is eminently, frighteningly relatable. Take for example his description of being married:

It's inspiring not only to see someone like Seinfeld, who doesn't have to work another day in his life, but in spite of that continues to keep whittling, honing and improving his material to such a glossy sheen that it's brilliance seems to come so easy.

It's really electric to see a comedian so at the top of his game. And everyone else's.