Ho-Ho Hee-Hee Ha-Haaa

It has been well-established, mostly by, who else, me, that there are moments in my life when I laugh like an unhinged hyena. I can only conclude that this particular brand of hysteria is my way of letting off steam and/or avoiding a lengthy stay at the Ho-Ho Hee-Hee Ha-Haaa Farm, depicted in one of my favorite Dr. Demento selections, "They're Coming To Take Me Away." My hyena fits are legendary, let me tell you, especially the one I had while giving birth to the eldest way back in the late 80s. They'd given me something to get things going, and boy, did it get me going, laughing so maniacally that a crowd of nurses gathered to watch me lose it. But now I've done something to rival that incident, and this time, no one rushed in to put an oxygen mask over my punim, so that's progress. Yesterday during my writing workshop, I decided to read a New Yorker humor piece to the group, hoping they'd find it as funny as I did: Encouragement For Struggling Creatives.

And as each line landed like this... 

And as each stare looked like this... 

I lost all sense of decorum and started howling with laughter. "What's so funny?" Bruce asked. "It can't be what she's reading," Phyllis added. "Should we call the paramedics?" Jane pondered. "I've got them on speed-dial," Nury chimed in. "I thought you'd find this funny," I said, between giggles and gasps for air. "Listen to this and tell me it's not funny: 'Remember that just when the caterpillar thought the world was over she became a beautiful butterfly. Which is to say, we can't pay you at this time, but, in a way, doesn't the exposure more than make up for it?' That line sums up my entire career." Crickets. Followed by a group grab for the cookies.

Please God, if you're listening, let this not be the case at the FREE reading of "Brushes: A Comedy of Hairs," this Sunday, July 22 @ 7, at Theatre West, 3333 Cahuenga West.  (See what I did there?)