Jul 05 2008
Chelsea Yesterday
I went from 0 to 70 on Chelsea Handler a couple of weeks ago. Her latest book, Are You There, Vodka, It’s Me, Chelsea? kept popping up everywhere on my book radar. Apparently she’s written a few, but this was the first I’d heard of her. It’s comedy, and I don’t generally waste, um, spend money on comedy. But I finally figured, what the hell (the first step is admitting you’re powerless…) and ordered it–along with something else to get the free shipping, of course. Before the book had even arrived, I was flipping channels late one night–I don’t admit it might be time to sleep unless there is absolutely nothing I can fathom watching and I’m too tired to read, and yes, there are other little idiosyncracies–and stopped on this comedy round table that was actually pretty funny. A gay man or two, a little person, a sort of East Coast Barbie, a club girl…but witty stuff. I punch the guide button, it’s a show called Chelsea Lately, Chelsea Handler, I eventually figure out, being the East Coast Barbie. It’s on E!, for those of you who want to check it out. I’ve come across it one more time since then–still funny–but I’m just not big on comedy for some reason. Yesterday I read the book, though. It’s funny. What I was constantly reminded of, though, is how prudish I feel in the face of comedic writing. I mean, seriously. I have been known to swear like a sailor, have Kid Rock and Eminem in my car, work with addicts and addicts in recovery. I wear black nail polish. For someone on the sort of far side of thirty, I am not a wuss. But some of this stuff makes me uncomfortable. Thinking about it, I guess a lot of it seems bigoted and racist to me and that makes me uncomfortable. But it’s funny. So, whatever.
