Bill Dana, created Jose Jimenez, dies at 92

Bill Dana

Bill Dana, whose English-mangling character Jose Jimenez made him one of the most famous comedians of the 1960s, died June 15 at his home in Nashville, Tenn. He was 92.

The Emmy-nominated writer, who was of Hungarian-Jewish descent, was born William Szathmary on Oct. 5, 1924, in Quincy, Mass. He served in the infantry in Europe during World War II and returned home to attend Emerson College in Boston. He graduated with a degree in speech and drama.

He had been writing for television and performing stand-up comedy for a decade when he created the character of Jimenez, a Mexican immigrant who first appeared in a sketch on “The Steve Allen Show” in 1959. The character took on a series of eclectic professions: an Olympic skier, dancer, animal trainer, deep-sea diver and astronaut, the latter making him a “mascot” of the Mercury astronauts as the space race was heating up.

Dana, as Jimenez, performed at John F. Kennedy’s inaugural gala, which also featured Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald and Gene Kelly.

As Jimenez, Dana appeared as an elevator operator on “The Danny Thomas Show,” which spawned the sitcom “The Bill Dana Show” that ran from 1963 to 1965.

Dana recorded several comedy albums, and appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” “The Tonight Show,” “The Jackie Gleason Show” and the “The Andy Williams Show.” He also appeared on numerous TV series, sometimes playing dramatic roles.

But many people saw Jose Jimenez as a negative stereotype, and over the course of the 1960s the character became the target of protests. By 1970, Dana stopped performing as Jimenez.

Dana wrote a 1972 episode of “All in the Family” that featured an appearance by Sammy Davis Jr., playing himself. In it, Davis famously kisses bigoted Archie Bunker (played by Carroll O’Connor) on the cheek. In 1997, TV Guide ranked the episode 13th on its list of the “100 Greatest Episodes of All Time.”

Dana is survived by his wife of 36 years, Evelyn Shular.

Comedian Don Rickles speaks after receiving the Johnny Carson Award during the second annual 2012 Comedy Awards in New York on April 28, 2012. Photo by Stephen Chernin/Reuters

Don Rickles, insult comedian and actor, dies at 90

Don Rickles, the bullet-headed comedian and actor whose pioneering brand of insult comedy earned him the nickname “Mr. Warmth,” has died at 90.

Rickles died Thursday morning at his home in Los Angeles from kidney failure, according to his publicist. He would have turned 91 on May 8.

Bald and squat, Rickles would pace the stages of nightclubs and late night talk shows seeking out “victims” in the audience, riffing on their weight, ethnicity and dress, calling them “hockey puck,” but usually pulling back from the edge of causing any real offense by offering a wide smile and an intentionally unctuous declaration of universal fraternity. His targets included fellow comedian Jerry Lewis (“You annoy me”), Frank Sinatra (“Make yourself comfortable, Frank — hit somebody”) and an Asian man sitting in the front row of one of his shows (“There are 40 million Jews here in Los Angeles; how did you get such a good seat?” ).

But Rickles also was a serious actor who trained at the famed American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and he had supporting roles in a number of memorable films including  “Kelly’s Heroes,” with Clint Eastwood; “Run Silent, Run Deep,” with Clark Gable and Burt Lancaster, and “Casino,” directed by Martin Scorsese and starring Robert DeNiro.

Younger audiences would recognize his voice as that of Mr. Potato Head in the Pixar film “Toy Story” and its sequels. He appeared in countless television shows.

An auxiliary member of the “Rat Pack,” a loose fraternity of entertainers led by Sinatra, Rickles kept on performing nearly to the end of his life and outlived most of the entertainers of his era.

Rickles was born and raised in Queens, New York. His father, Max, immigrated to the United States as a child from Kaunas, Lithuania. His mother, born in New York, also was the daughter of Jewish immigrants.

Rickles served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, and after his service honed his act at small and often seedy nightclubs.

“I had a tough time – I had no other jobs – so I reached out to comedy,” he said in an interview with the Jewish Standard of New Jersey in 2013. Sinatra spotted Rickles at a Miami club, and the famed singer helped make him a headliner in Las Vegas. Rickles first appeared on “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” in 1965, and would return as a guest at least 100 times.

In 2012, Jon Stewart presented Rickles with the “Johnny Carson Award For Comedic Excellence” at the Comedy Awards run by the Comedy Central cable network.

In his 2007 memoir, “Rickles’ Book,” he recalled a visit to his father’s grave on Long Island along with the cantor who would perform his wedding to Barbara Sklar.

“The cantor put on his white robe and prayer shawl,” Rickles recalled. “In the still of the morning, standing over my dear father’s grave, he sang the Hebrew prayer for the dead. He wailed; he sang with such tender feeling and heartfelt anguish that I felt the presence of God Almighty in every fiber of my being. Afterward, we recited the Kaddish, the Jewish mourners’ prayer, our words melting the morning fog to tears.

“Before we left, the cantor sang a prayer in Hebrew, inviting Dad to my wedding. Then he finished by saying, ‘May your soul be with us forever.’”

Barbara Rickles survives her husband, as does their daughter, Mindy. Their son, Larry, an Emmy Award-winning producer, died at 41 in 2011 of respiratory failure.

Rickles often tried to distinguish between the “character” he played on stage and his real-life persona.

“I don’t care if the average guy on the street really knows what I’m like, as long as he knows I’m not really a mean, vicious guy,” he said. “My friends and family know what I’m really like. That’s what’s important.”

The alt-right hates Michael Ian Black’s new Donald Trump children’s book

Where do babies come from? Are we there yet? What should I make of the Donald Trump phenomenon?

Jewish comedian Ian Black tackles the Trump question in his forthcoming children’s book, “A Child’s First Book of Trump.”

Though it doesn’t come out until July 4, the Dr. Seuss-like book is already on Amazon’s best seller list, propelled by Black’s appearance last week on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.”

In Black’s telling, “the American Trump” is a self-obsessed, attention-seeking orange “beasty” — with unusually small hands. As he puts it, in rhyme: “Its skin is bright orange, its figure is plump. Its fur so complex you might get enveloped. Its hands though are, sadly, underdeveloped.”

Another noteworthy line reads: “Its diet is cash, its friends all go-getters. Its poop spells out ‘Trump’ in ten-foot-high letters.”

Illustrator Marc Rosenthal provides a minimalist illustration of Black’s Trump: an orange body with a poof of yellow hair covering his eyes, and beneath the hair, angry eyebrows and pursed lips.

You probably know Black as a comedian. He’s starred in the cult film “Wet Hot American Summer” and the cult TV shows “The State” and “Stella.” These days, he stars as a servile butler named Peepers in the Comedy Central American period comedy, “Another Period.”

But this isn’t his first turn as a writer. He’s actually a New York Times bestselling author — most recently of the memoir “Navel Gazing: True Tales of Bodies, Mostly Mine (but also my mom’s, which I know sounds weird)” — and has six previous children’s books under his belt.

Black (nee Schwartz) is also a master of the 140-character literary form, with over 2 million Twitter followers. Like many other prominent Jews, his tweets about Trump have earned him the anti-Semitic ire of supporters of Trump’s Republican presidential campaign.


You might think the the children’s book was motivated by this pro-Trump Twitter trolling. But Black has said he was in fact inspired by Hillary Clinton, Trump’s Democratic challenger for the keys to the White House.

“I was in the children’s section and saw one of those inspirational books about Hillary Clinton and it kind of made me laugh if you could do one about Donald Trump because there is nothing inspirational about him in any way shape or form,” he told The New York Daily News this week.

Still, news of the book’s release has brought on a new onslaught of Twitter anti-Semitism by the “alt-right,” an amorphous far-right movement that lives mostly online, complete with photoshops of Black in a gas chamber manned by Trump.


Mostly, Black merely retweets the hateful messages with links to the book’s Amazon page or labels the posters “Trump supporters” in the same way the alt-right labels Jews on Twitter.

The moral of “A Child’s First Book of Trump,” being published by Simon & Schuster, seems to be that the correct response to a creature like Trump is to simply ignore him. That may be so. But his own response — highlighting and mocking him — is much more fun.

‘The Fat Jewish’ got a fashion modeling contract

This article originally appeared on

Comedian Jack Carter, friend of Sid Caesar, dies at 93

Comedian Jack Carter died June 28 of respiratory failure at his home in Beverly Hills. He was 93. He was also an actor, emcee, singer, mimic, dancer, and director in a career that spanned over seven decades.

He began his professional career appearing on Broadway in “Call Me Mister.” He later appeared on Milton Berle’s “Texaco Star Theatre” shows, and it was during this time that Carter got his first real break.

Read more at Variety.

Jessie Kahnweiler, ‘Meet My Rapist’ star, returns with ‘bulimia dark comedy’

In an early episode of “Dude, Where’s My Chutzpah?,” the 2013 docu-comedy web series by Jessie Kahnweiler that put her on the comedic map, Kahnweiler’s character ends up at the barrier separating the West Bank from Israel. She had asked a taxi driver to take her to “the Wall.”

The character, Jessie — the comedian’s amped-up, disinhibited alter ego — approaches a woman standing in the shade.

“So this is the Wailing Wall?” she asks, referring to the holy site at the heart of Jerusalem’s Old City, but pointing to the concrete wall shrouded in barbed wire that divides the Palestinian village of Bil’in. “Is this where I put my note?”

When the woman points out the Israeli soldiers standing guard, Jessie begins to flirt.

“Shalom!” she calls out, with a smile and a wave. And then: “Can I have diet tear gas? I’m kind of trying to watch my weight.”

It’s an early version of what has become Kahnweiler’s trademark: a clueless Jewish girl is inserted into places (the West Bank, skid row) and encounters issues (rape, bulimia) of great import. Her obliviousness calls attention to privilege and injustice, and the results are as radical as they are hilarious.

In this sense, her latest web series, “The Skinny,” about a “feisty, free-spirited Jewish girl named Jessie living, loving and trying to overcome an eating disorder in Los Angeles,” is classic Kahnweiler. The Kickstarter-funded “bulimia dark comedy,” as Kahnweiler calls it, is expected to premiere on — the Internet channel launched by Jill Soloway (the creator of the Amazon series “Transparent”) and digital entrepreneur Rebecca Odes.

“It has to be rooted in emotional truth to be funny,” Kahnweiler told JTA. “It’s about being really self aware. Who we are and who we want to be and what’s stopping us, and that is the space I want to play, in that gap.”

Watch the trailer for “The Skinny”:

Kahnweiler, 30, is quickly shaping up to be a comedic force, the enfant terrible of urban Millennials who dares to say what everyone else is secretly thinking. Kahnweiler, who fittingly tweets @shesgotchutzpah, gives voice to the disavowed anxieties and night terrors of a generation. But in a voice that is distinctly her own. Driving her work, she says, is the constant question: “How do I make something that only I can make?”

The Atlanta-raised Kahnweiler lives in Los Angeles “with my plants and my cats.” The spark that attracts her to the city is the same spark that animates her work — a deep and abiding respect for contradictions.

“There’s a really big tension in Los Angeles because it’s so beautiful, the sunshine is repressive to a point,” she said. “It’s like you’re not allowed to cry, it’s so beautiful. And there’s this whole element of Hollywood and this presentation and this facade, and then there’s this underbelly of all of these cultures coming together that exist in one place but are also very segregated. This tension of what’s real and what’s not, I really thrive in that.”

But when I met Kahnweiler (and her mother and grandmother) recently, it was on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, where her spry, flame-haired, 94-year-old bubbe lives.

“I’d come more, but my grandmother is really busy,” Kahnweiler said over wine, crackers and salmon spread. “It’s like, when can you fit me in?”

“Not so!” her grandmother, Lucille Boretz, protested laughing. “Not so!”

Kahnweiler hails from a family of writers. Her grandfather was the celebrated TV, film and radio writer Alvin Boretz; her grandmother was his beloved companion and soundboard until his death in 2010.

“He went against the grain then,” explained Kahnweiler’s mother, Jennifer. Boretz was a freelancer, and money was often tight. “So we always had the message as his daughters, my sister and I, that you need to love what you do and you need to make a contribution, and we hopefully passed that on.”

Jennifer Kahnweiler, also a redhead, is an accomplished writer in her own right whose books include the best-seller “The Introverted Leader: Building on Your Quiet Strength.” She and Kahnweiler’s father, Bill — a professor at Georgia State University — both have doctorates in counseling,  and even wrote a book together about leadership in the workplace. (“It was really fun to be at home when that was happening,” Kahnweiler joked.)

“My dad is a really big wise-ass, he’s really sarcastic, he has a really dry sense of humor,” Kahnweiler said. “And Mom has no filter. She’s never made a joke in her life, and she’s the funniest person.”

Jennifer and Lucille burst out laughing.

Kahnweiler also has a sister, a nurse practitioner who lives in Denver.

In general, it was an open home where Jennifer says they talked about things.

“Except that, there was stuff we didn’t talk about, that we didn’t know about that’s come out in Jessie’s work,” she said. “It’s really hard. I’m not going to lie about it.”

She was referring to “Meet My Rapist,” Kahnweiler’s most influential video. The plot of the widely-acclaimed 2013 piece, based on events that happened to Kahnweiler, revolves around a woman played by Kahnweiler who encounters the man who raped her five years after the fact at a farmer’s market. He begins a silent, mammalian haunting of her character’s life, and the film chronicles her attempts to discuss what happened with her family and friends. (“But were you like really raped? Were you drunk? Was he cute? Was he white?”)

Kahnweiler’s real mother also didn’t at the time know about the real-life events that inspired “The Skinny,” Kahnweiler’s decade-long struggle with bulimia — “a struggle that will never end,” the author says. She has been in recovery for the past three years.

“What I’m realizing is, the way that parents don’t want to see their children hurt, I don’t want to hurt my parents, and I don’t want to hurt my grandparents,” Kahnweiler said.

But for Kahnweiler, using comedy to work through difficult issues is a familial trait.

“There’s so much tragedy in life,” Kahnweiler said. “But the way we process as a family — and I think this is a very Jewish thing culturally — you laugh at things, just at the absurdity of life. I was raised that way. What else are you going to do? I would kill myself.”

And she sees her work as a calling.

“If you have one person come up to you and go, ‘This happened to me, I’ve never been able to talk about it, and now I can talk about it, now I’ve told my parents about it, now I’ve told my wife about it, now I’ve been able to start therapy, now I’ve been able to forgive’ — that’s it,” she said. “I don’t care about anything else. And I know that even though it’s hard sometimes, nothing that’s worth it is easy. Nothing.”

“That’s tweetable,” her mother interjected.

Now it’s Kahnweiler who bursts out laughing.

Kahnweiler first started making documentaries in college at California’s University of Redlands, and says it has always been a very personal experience, whether she was working on a piece about truck drivers or ex-boyfriends or veterans. In a way, Kahnweiler’s body of work is exactly what you might expect from the granddaughter of a TV writer and two Ph.D.s: excellent comedic writing and, beneath the surface, an abyss of insight and analysis.

“The Skinny” has been on her mind for years, Kahnweiler says, but she struggled with how to make a comedy about an eating disorder. She finally wrote the pilot and started shopping it around.

“I was going to the big meetings in Beverly Hills that I’m sure Grandpa went to,” she recalled, “and you pull up and there’s valet parking, and it’s very exciting, and you come away and you’re like, ‘They want to change everything.’”

She considered doing things “their” way, but she was always being pressured to make the main character more likable, a desire Kahnweiler just couldn’t accommodate.

“Every person I know is both horrible and amazing,” she said. “Male characters can be dark and complicated and heroes, but women, it has to be wrapped up in a pretty, likable package.”

So she decided to produce “The Skinny” herself.

Kahnweiler’s art focuses on living with contradiction rather than resolving it. “I was a feminist with an eating disorder,” she explained. “That is such a paradox. The same with [‘Dude, Where’s My’] ‘Chutzpah?’ — I’m in Israel, but there’s Palestine.” But the contradictions are fertile ground for the young comedian.

“What’s so exciting about female filmmakers is we embrace it, those are our narratives,” she said. “We’re not linear, we’re round. We’re very complicated, women are.”

And then she laughs, adding, “I have no idea what I just said.”

Laughter is comedian’s fountain of youth

Legendary comedian Marty Allen, who turns 93 March 23, has a simple secret to longevity. 

“I try to have an upbeat attitude all the time,” he said. “I enjoy entertaining, and I enjoy life.”

To celebrate his birthday, he’s performing at the Downtown Grand Las Vegas hotel and casino March 22 and 23 with his wife, comedy partner and singer Karon Kate Blackwell. Onstage, the two will talk about Allen’s autobiography, “Hello Dere!” which came out last year and features stories about his interactions with former first lady Betty Ford, Elvis Presley and The Beatles. 

“We’ll also do a comedy routine, and then a song-and-dance number and that’ll be it,” Allen said. “They’ll bring the cake out, and I’ll spend the rest of the evening blowing out candles.”

Allen is known for his trademark black hair — which sticks up from his head as if it’s controlled by static electricity — and his catchphrase, “Hello dere!” The latter became popular when he was part of the comedy duo Allen & Rossi with Steve Rossi in the 1950s and ’60s. The two toured the country together, opened for Nat King Cole and performed on “The Ed Sullivan Show” 44 times. The most memorable appearance occurred in February 1964, when they followed The Beatles’ debut American set. 

“Sullivan put us on with The Beatles, and that was one of the greatest things that ever happened in our lives as far as show business is concerned,” Allen said.

The comedian, a Pennsylvania native who was born as Morton David Alpern, currently lives in Las Vegas but got his start in Los Angeles. Upon returning from World War II, he enrolled at USC as a journalism major. When he started to get work doing comedy in local clubs, he dropped out of school to pursue show business. He eventually met Rossi, and the partnership lasted 15 years. 

During Allen’s time in Los Angeles, he became a regular on “The Hollywood Squares” (a celebrity tic-tac-toe game show) and made numerous guest appearances on shows such as “Password,” “The Big Valley” and “Circus of the Stars.” 

“Acting was quite a thrill for me,” Allen said. “I played a lot of different parts and characterizations. My favorite show that I enjoyed being on was ‘The Hollywood Squares.’ I was with so many talents, like Paul Lynde and Charley Weaver [the alter ego for Cliff Arquette]. The fact that you could ad lib on the show and do your own jokes made it wonderful to be on.”

At the same time that Allen’s television and movie career took off, he met Blackwell, to whom he’s been married for 30 years.

“I met Karon in a restaurant she was managing on the Sunset Strip,” he said. “My agent and I came in for lunch. I took one look at her and said, ‘Bingo! That’s the one.’ ”

The two went on a couple of dates, and Allen heard Blackwell sing. “I thought she was terrific,” he said. “I was enraptured with her talent, and I asked her to join me not only as a wife but as a partner in the act.” 

Throughout their marriage, the couple has worked together, going onstage on their birthdays in Las Vegas and touring other cities in the United States. In the act, Blackwell assumes the role of straight lady, just like Rossi did for Allen on stage. Allen offers such one-liners as, “Married women come home, see what’s in their bed and then go to the refrigerator,” and Blackwell plays piano and sings. 

Allen said the two have a strong marriage because, “We understand one another. We combine our talents and have an excellent show.”

Although Allen does get the chance to perform a few shows per year, he said he spends the rest of his time watching movies with his wife, reading and going out with friends. As for his next birthday, which is swiftly approaching, he couldn’t be happier. 

“It feels very good,” he said. “I’m looking forward to 100.” 

Young Jews need to have more pride

I’m a stand up comedian. The best part about my job, besides making people laugh, is the other comics. I love hanging out with other comedians because we’re all so different, but also very much the same. A few weeks ago I dropped in at a show in the basement of a bar. It was a Tuesday night and this is what’s known as a great “workout room.” It’s a place I could go to and get some stage time to work on refining my act. A lot of friends of mine were at this show. I was friends with basically every person on the line up and the show was solid. These random bar patrons probably didn’t realize how great of a show they got for free.

When the show ended one of the comedians offered to give me a ride home because I had been dropped off at the gig. I hopped in his car, which had another comedian as well riding shotgun, and we started to joke around as friends do. My buddy driving is Asian, our other friend is Black, and I’m Jewish. One of them made a comment about being minorities and I said, “I’m the biggest minority here (there are way more Asians and Black people in the world than there are Jews).” My Black friend, not joking, responded, “Yeah, but what’s your stake?” I said, “My stake? My stake in what?” Then he said something to the effect of “(paraphrasing) There may not be many Jews, but you guys own 70% of (expletive).” Not wanting to even deal with this comment on a serious level I just playfully responded with, “I think that your number is slightly inflated.” A few weeks later I was in Minneapolis talking to a Black, female comedian from Chicago and when she found out I was Jewish she made the comment, “You guys have all the money.” That’s as ignorant as me telling her, “You guys are all pro athletes.”

The point of these stories is not that these comics are horrible people, but there seems to be an overwhelming theme in my life where people want to tell me how Jews “run things” or “own everything” or, especially in my field, entertainment, it’s going to be “so easy” for me because I’m “a Jew.” Right, so let’s discount the hard work and sacrifice I put in right off the bat because of my ethnicity. People love to say that Jews “run TV.” It is very true that there are a lot of Jews working in television and movies, but these people say it as though it’s unfair. Why are there so many Jews working in television? Well, the three major television stations were started by Jews; NBC, David Sarnoff, CBS, William Paley, and ABC, Leonard Goldenson. So Jews founded television and hired people they knew who were talented, many of which were Jews and this trickles down like most businesses. Today TV has something for everyone, but I don’t hear anyone thanking the Jews.

I’ve found that the only reason people say these things about Jews are because they heard it somewhere. They heard it somewhere growing up, other people also heard it, they say it out loud, and therefore it must be true. “Jews are cheap.” Why? How many Jews do you know? Oh, one? Is he cheap? He isn’t? Then why do you say it? Oh, you heard it. What about you? Oh, you don’t know one Jew, but this is something you choose to say? Interesting. Most the Jews I know were poor growing up in America. Their parents were poor in Europe and worked hard to get to America. My family, for example, were all extremely poor immigrants who were treated like garbage once they got to America. Nothing was “given” to them. Nothing. This is why it bothers me to hear non-Jews so casually throw around the notion that Jews are given everything. My grandfather on my dad’s side passed away after working hard as a painter his entire life while living in a condo my dad helped him buy. My dad grew up on the south side of Chicago before moving to southern California after high school, working hard at non prestigious jobs, then got his real estate license and eventually started his own business which he built from the ground up. Now my dad is a millionaire. He must be a millionaire because he’s Jewish, right? I mean, he wasn’t born a millionaire, his father was poor, his mother was poor, and he worked hard, but forget all that, he’s a JEW! It must’ve been so easy for him, because you know how much everyone just loves Jews, right? We are all aware that throughout history people all over the world have made it a point to help out the Jews. My best friend’s father is Jewish. His family was murdered in the Holocaust (lucky Jews, right?), he grew up in New York City, served in the United States military, eventually started his own business and now he’s a millionaire. Wow, two millionaire Jews in a row who got all the breaks!

Today it’s not considered “cool” to be Jewish. Personally, I don’t think any race or religion should be considered cooler than another, but that’s just how it is. Some races are, for whatever reason, envied while others are not. Young Jews need to be more proud of their heritage and stand up for themselves as Jews. I noticed growing up how a lot of the other Jewish kids allowed the kids around them to make anti-Semitic comments without speaking up. Anti-Semitic comments just aren’t challenged the way other racist comments are and are thrown around too casually. If you’re in a group and someone says something ignorant about black people, usually at least one person in the group (if I’m there, it’s me) will speak up and check the person’s asinine comment. The same generally goes for Latinos, Gays, Muslims, etc. Most people don’t have a built in tolerance for public displays of racism against any group except for Jews. I’m not trying to say that people don’t make comments about other races and religions, they most certainly do, but those are contained to private conversations with friends who are like-minded and it is therefore “safe” to speak freely. My assumption is that this is a result of the types of Jews I grew up around who did not want to speak up in fear of being alienated so people think what they’re saying isn’t offensive.

When I was a freshman in college I did not like what my professor was teaching the class in regards to Israel, or Palestine as he saw it. I was eighteen years old and this particular professor was best friends with my basketball coach, but that didn’t stop me from asking him to meet in his office and discuss what he was “teaching.” We spoke for over an hour during which he made comments like, “I didn’t know that,” “I have never thought of it that way,” and “that’s a good point.” This man had a Master’s degree in Middle East Studies! During our conversation he made it a point to randomly tell me the statistics of how many Jewish students went to the university (a very small number) and followed that up with the question, “Do you know how many are open about it?” He was clearly trying to intimidate me into silence by telling me only about 25% were. I responded with, “That’s very sad that this school doesn’t make it a point to have a climate where Jews can feel comfortable like everyone else” and then got us back on topic. It irked me that he seemed to take pride in the fact Jews weren’t open about their heritage on his campus. The result was that he continued to teach exactly the same way (assigning Yasser Arafat’s books as historical fact, equivocating horrible civil wars i.e. Rwanda with the systematic annihilation of groups of people for years that was the Holocaust, etc) and he gave me a B+ on everything I did, never once an A, which I took as an obvious message he didn’t appreciate me challenging him. This man, like so many others I’ve met, like their Jews one way, silent. My basketball coach never gave me a chance to play even though all the assistant coaches thought I should be in the rotation.


At the time basketball was the most important thing in the world to me, but I would have done everything the exact same way. I think some younger Jews take for granted what our ancestors went through to give us a great life. My people did not get persecuted throughout time so I can let some idiot say, “Jews are cheap” or “Jews run everything” just because they heard it somewhere. Jews do run a lot of stuff and that’s not an accident, it’s a direct result of the work ethic and stress on education and family that has been passed down through generations. I was very fortunate to grow up never having to want for anything. I was able to follow my dream of being a professional comedian because of everything my grandparents and parents sacrificed. My life would have been much harder and it would have been a much harder decision to make to “go for it” had they not. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit back and listen to people tell me my people were handed anything.  

Geoff Keith is a stand up comedian from Los Angeles, California. Keith is currently one of the stars of MTV’s “Jerks With Cameras” and recurs as various characters on ABC Family’s “Freak Out!” 

Family, friends remember Joan Rivers at a private funeral

Family and friends bid farewell to Joan Rivers, the outspoken comedian who became famous around the world for her acerbic wit and brash style, at a private funeral on Sunday in Manhattan.

Journalists Barbara Walters and Diane Sawyer, comedian Whoopi Goldberg, tycoon Donald Trump, actress Sarah Jessica Parker and comedian Kathy Griffin were among the celebrities who attended the service at Temple Emanu-El, a landmark synagogue on New York's Fifth Avenue where Rivers, 81, was a member of the congregation.

As guests exited the service to the sound of bagpipes, and some mingled and hugged, many hundreds of fans, along with dozens of reporters, photographers and television crews waited behind barricades to get a glimpse of Rivers' friends and family, including her only daughter, Melissa.

Lisa Johnson, 45, who drove five hours from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her sister to be there, said she was a life-long fan of the comedian.

“I grew up watching her. And I have always thought she was just the most hilarious, trailblazing pioneer for women's comedy, women in general. I just love her irreverent take-no-prisoners kind of style. She says exactly what she feels, she offends people and owns it,” Johnson said.

Max Buccini, 30, held flowers and praised Rivers for her generosity and the impact she had on the gay community.

“She always delivered. She knew her audience. She was a pioneer in the entertainment industry and just a trendsetter,” he said.

The sharp-tongued, Brooklyn-born comedian who jokingly wrote about wanting an elaborate funeral, died on Thursday at the New York hospital to where she had been rushed a week earlier. She had been put on life support after she stopped breathing during an outpatient procedure at a medical clinic.

Rivers' cause of death was still unknown pending further tests, according to New York City Medical Examiner's Office.

The State Health Department was investigating the Yorkville Endoscopy Center where Rivers was treated. It is reviewing documents, medical records and interviewing staff and physicians at the clinic which opened in 2013.

During a career that spanned more than 50 years, Rivers was known for her raspy voice, numerous cosmetic procedures and the catchphrase “Can we talk?”

No topic or person was off-limits for Rivers, who joked about marriage and sex and was never apologetic about what she said.

She attributed her success to saying what everyone else was thinking. Her influence reached far beyond her New York roots. Tributes poured in from around the world.

Britain's Prince Charles described Rivers, who attended his 2005 wedding to the Duchess of Cornwall, as “an extraordinary woman with an original and indefatigable spirit.”

Israeli President Benjamin Netanyahu said in a statement that she would be deeply missed.

Rivers originally wanted to be an actress. She started as a comedy writer before doing stand-up. She worked her way up to regular guest host for Johnny Carson on NBC's popular “The Tonight Show.”

Carson and Rivers had a falling-out when she started her own late-night talk show in 1986 on the rival Fox network. Her show was canceled within a year due to low ratings. A few months later, her husband and manager, Edgar Rosenberg, committed suicide.

Later in her career, Rivers and her daughter starred in the reality TV show “Joan & Melissa: Joan Knows Best?”, with Rivers living with her grown child.

Most recently, Rivers was the host of cable television channel E!'s “Fashion Police,” commenting on the unfortunate red carpet choices of Hollywood celebrities.

RIP Joan Rivers, you Jewess, you

As news of Joan Rivers’ passing ricocheted around the world Thursday, we took a moment to comb our archives for some of Rivers’ recent high points and low points:

2004: Rivers joins JDate.

2010: Rivers is among the honorees at a Jewish American Heritage Month celebration at the Library of Congress in Washington.

2011: The reality TV series about Rivers and her daughter, “Joan & Melissa: Joan Knows Best?,” makes its debut.

Rivers loved to get mad, and her fans loved her for it. Everyone from Chelsea Handler to Rihanna to, most recently, supporters of the Palestinians found themselves on the receiving end of Rivers’ ire and scorn.

She also got into her fair share of trouble. In the summer of 2012, the Anti-Defamation League rapped Rivers for comparing retailer giant Costco to Nazi Germany. What prompted her outburst? The decision by a Costco in suburban Los Angeles not to carry her book “I Hate Everything… Starting with Me.”

She and the ADL went at loggerheads again the following February, when Rivers said of Heidi Klum’s Oscars outfit: “The last time a German looked this hot was when they were pushing Jews into the ovens.”

When she was allowed back on “The Tonight Show” after the lifting of a 26-year ban, she went straight for Holocaust and vagina jokes.

Rivers was a proud Jewess. During the recent Gaza war, Rivers went on a pro-Israel rant after being buttonholed by TMZ outside an airport terminal. When she launched a web series last year called “In Bed with Joan,” her first guest was the Jewish comedienne Sarah Silverman. The two snuggled up together to dish about fellow female comedians, talk about who Silverman should date and, of course, share some Jewish jokes.

She did have her serious side. When a social media campaign to help an Israeli gay couple have a child went viral, Rivers posted her own photo of herself holding a sign in Hebrew displaying her support for the couple.

Into her ninth decade, Rivers seemingly indefatigable. Then, about a week ago, the irrepressible, barb-mouthed comedian was silenced — in a coma after throat surgery in Manhattan.

In turns our Rivers was, after all, just flesh and blood.

And plastic, of course. In early 2012, Rivers admitted that she had had 739 plastic surgeries. Later that year, when Rivers decided she had gone overboard and announced that she was forswearing Botox, she did so in her quintessentially Rivers way: “Betty White’s bowels move more than my face,” she said.

RIP, Joan Rivers.


Sarah Silverman’s ‘Indecent Proposal’ to Sheldon Adelson and what that means for modern politics

By the time you read this, you probably will have watched Sarah Silverman in her underwear, demonstrating a lesbian sex act with her dog.

Because that’s the way politics works these days.

Silverman wrote and stars in a short video, called “Scissor Sheldon,” posted at, in which she offers to, hmm, make casino magnate Sheldon Adelson very happy if he donates $100 million to the campaign of Barack Obama, instead of to Mitt Romney.

Adelson, the owner of The Venetian hotel and casino and one of the world’s richest men, has declared he is willing to spend that much money to help get the Republican candidate elected president.

“Sheldon, I have a proposal for you, and, I’m serious, look at me,” Silverman says to the camera. What follows — her proposal — is not really quotable in this newspaper, though, trust me, this video will introduce more young people to politics than student council.

The short video went online on the afternoon of July 16. By the time I saw it, early the next morning, it already had 11,000 “likes.” Major news outlets were covering it. It was wallpapered across my Facebook and Twitter accounts. Viral? Viruses could only wish.

The enormously popular, self-described “Jewess” comedian has used satirical political video before to great effect. In 2008, she launched The Great Schlep, urging young Jews to go to Florida to convince their grandparents to vote for Obama.

Story continues after the jump. (Warning: Explicit video)

Video courtesy of SchlepLabs

This time, she has once again teamed up with activists Ari Wallach and Mik Moore, co-founders of The Great Schlep. They run a pro-Obama super PAC with the anodyne name the Jewish Council for Education & Research (JCER). Its main backer is Alexander Soros, the 27-year-old New York University grad who also happens to be the son of George Soros.

“The most important political office is that of private citizen,” Supreme Court Justice Louis D. Brandeis once said — and his quote is the opening line on the Web page explaining JCER.

Wallach and Moore say their goal is to juice the campaigns of people they believe in by inspiring young Jewish voters to get involved.

“JCER is motivated by a deep love for the Jewish community and by a desire to ensure that Jews have access to accurate information as they engage in the electoral process,” the mission statement says.

For prior generations, that might have meant walking precincts, door to door, delivering speeches to Hadassah groups or passing out bumper stickers. Now, you submit your ideas on how to support Obama by using social media, humor and celebrity, and the super PAC picks the ones it likes best — like Silverman’s — and then produces and disseminates it. The Great Schlep generated 300 million impressions — at a cost of next to nothing. That’s a lot of precinct walking.

Merging politics with sex and celebrity used to be something only politicians did, after they were elected. Moore and Wallach have discovered it works even better before. Their successful campaigns leap far beyond the Jewish community and create national conversations. In the case of “Scissor Sheldon,” Moore said he hopes it will lead to a conversation on the role of unbridled political contributions in American elections and the outsized impact a billionaire like Adelson can have.

But here’s what makes me squirm — and it’s not at all Silverman’s offer — which, in her signature style, comes across as more adorable than raunchy.

It’s their relentless focus on one man — Adelson. The truth behind Adelson’s giving is that the entire system of unlimited, unaccountable campaign financing from so-called 527 organizations to the Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision in 2010 is the single greatest threat to our democracy. Everybody who takes part — from Adelson to the secretive billionaire Tea Party funders, the Koch Brothers, Obama, Romney and also Alexander Soros — is part of the problem.

How is Adelson worse than Alexander Soros? At least Adelson steps out of the shadows and shoots off his mouth — as when he told that his former crush, Newt Gingrich, had “reached the end of the line.” Adelson makes his agenda clear. Politically, he and I may be far apart — but he is no hidden puppet master.

But the “Scissor Sheldon” Web site paints him to be exactly that. The spare site offers up a single, rather uncomplimentary photo of Adelson. On the page under the heading “Who Is the $100 Million Man?” you can find a 10-point list of all of Adelson’s supposed transgressions. It paints Adelson in an entirely one-dimensional way — a caricature — and lets others who dump swill in the political trough off the hook.

I get why Silverman chose to address Adelson. It’s personal, the way Silverman looks her landsman in the eye. This is like The Great Schlep, and he’s Super Zayde.  Fortunately, we American Jews live in a time and in a country where we can feel perfectly safe and secure attacking one another using Der Stürmer — like iconography. Yes, “Scissor Sheldon” will provide a Jewish National Fund-sized forest of kindling to ignite every Jew-hater out there — but those freaks will hate us anyway.

My greater concern is that unlike, say, Stephen Colbert’s masterful Colbert super PAC shtick, in which he used the same broken laws to create his own unaccountable super PAC, the “Scissor Sheldon” bit won’t go beyond Adelson.

In fact, by the time you read this, this week’s big viral campaign may already be last week’s news.

Unless, of course, Sheldon Adelson says “yes.”

Yom HaAtzmaut special: California on Hebrew [VIDEO]

California on Purim [VIDEO]

Waiting for Sanityman: Can Jon Stewart save America?

The fate of our country won’t be decided by a politician.  It will be determined by a comedian.

Not long before Jon Stewart announced his Rally to Restore Sanity, he told a New York magazine writer why he and his crew on “The Daily Show” would never do something like that. “We’re not activists,” ” target=”_hplink”>page that they’d come, that’s not the same thing as actually showing up on the National Mall on Oct. 30. The Web site Politico, a bellwether of Beltway groupthink, oblivious of saying exactly the kind of thing that Stewart loves to singe, ” target=”_hplink”>asked, “Have Stephen Colbert”—convener of a dueling March to Keep Fear Alive—“and Jon Stewart crossed the line?” Warning that “at a certain point even sarcasm jumps the shark,” the writer—who “would eat a bowl of broken glass just to touch the hem of Stewart or Colbert’s pants”—nevertheless cautioned that “it’s tough to tread in the muck of parody and not wind up bearing an uncanny resemblance to the things we despise,” and that unless the rally motivates a Democratic get-out-the-vote effort, it will be “a Comedy Central-fueled ego trip.”

What made Stewart change his mind? Clever promotion for “” target=”_hplink”>calling for an end to all the shouting and divisiveness: “We are not red states and blue states; we are the United States of America.” This is the Stewart whose “

Read more about Jon Stewart here.

” target=”_hplink”>announced the rally, to illustrate the 15-to-20-percenters, he rolled a montage of big mouths—Chris Matthews, Sean Hannity, Alan Grayson, Newt Gingrich, Tea Party shouters and lots more. Tucked in among them, for only a couple of seconds toward the end, was Jon Stewart himself, backed up by a gospel choir, excerpted from a ” target=”_hplink”>hammered Senator John “I-never-considered-myself-a-maverick” McCain for selling his soul, but it was Sanityman who asked Meghan McCain to give her dad a scented mash note making up.

Jugular Jon—the one I have a man crush on—isn’t a knee-jerk partisan. He’s plenty rough on ” target=”_hplink”>Huckabees and Dick ” target=”_hplink”>finding his voice again on the campaign trail.

I don’t think there’s an 80 percent consensus on anything in this country, unless it’s stated so abstractly that you can carve it in marble. Sure, we all agree on fiscal responsibility, but today there’s a divide, not confined to a bellicose fringe, on whether our progressive tax system actually amounts to redistributionist crypto-socialism. Everyone wants a clean environment and energy independence, but toss the idea of a stiff tax on gas into a sanity rally, or raise the prospect of tougher regulation, and the mellow would quickly curdle. These may seem to be differences about means, not ends, but they’re really differences in our underlying beliefs about markets and governments, freedom and responsibility, me and we.

Jackie Mason Calls Obama the ‘SCH’-word

NEW YORK (JTA)—Comedian Jackie Mason called President Obama a “schvartze” during a performance in New York, angering some audience members.

The Web site TMZ reported Sunday that Mason used the term, which means “black” in Yiddish but is considered derogatory by some, during a performance at Feinstein’s at Loews Regency in New York City on March 12.

TMZ quoted one audience member as saying, “He’s more offensive to the Jews than Madoff tonight.”

“I’m an old Jew. I was raised in a Jewish family where ‘schvartze’ was used,” Mason told TMZ. “It’s not a demeaning word and I’m not going to defend myself.”

The Rev. Al Sharpton reminded TMZ that in 1991, Mason apologized for calling then-New York mayoral candidate David Dinkins “a fancy schvartze with a mustache.”

“At this stage in Jackie’s life and career, he should get our prayers more than our responses,” Sharpton told TMZ Sunday.

Death to Fanatistan!

By the time comedian Elon Gold took the stage to emcee the rally for the raising of the Israeli flag on Wilshire Boulevard, the street had filled with 3,000 or more people — a sea, or at least an inlet, of humanity waving little plastic blue-and-white flags as loudspeakers pumped out Israeli songs and their American Jewish equivalent: selections from “Fiddler on the Roof.”

Gold looked out upon the patriotic multitudes and uttered his welcome: “Hello everyone, I’m Elon Gold. For those of you who don’t know who I am, I’m the Jewish Jerry Seinfeld.”

That’s right — the profound, important gathering to raise the Israeli flag in front of the Consulate General of Israel for the first time ever was hosted by a standup comedian and began with a joke. I, for one, am proud of that.

I’m proud of it because while the display of the flag affirms, as several speakers pointed out, our connection as Jews and as Americans to a strong, secure State of Israel, the symbolism, I think, goes even deeper.

“This is a great day for us,” said Israeli Consul General Jacob Dayan when it was his turn to speak.

Dayan conceived of hoisting the flag in front of the consulate when he first came to Los Angeles a year ago. He was told the idea was a nonstarter: Any number of people were leery of the security risks involved in publicly identifying a building with Israel.

As I wrote in this space two weeks ago, Dayan not only vowed to fly the flag, but to raise it in a very public spectacle. Not a few Jewish leaders tried to dissuade him, convinced that L.A. Jews are only good for one mass rally every 20 years, if that.

Besides, they wondered aloud, what’s so big about a flag?

Sunday afternoon proved Dayan right.

I stood on a camera platform and looked east on Wilshire Boulevard beyond Crescent Heights Boulevard, watching the crowd grow to 3,000, or more. Two-dozen spectators broke out into an impromptu dance of “Hava Nagila” under a massive billboard advertising the HBO show “Entourage.” Several protesters entered the mix waving signs — “No More Wars for Israel! Mearsheimer & Walt R Right” — before being escorted out by police, to loud cheers from the crowd.

A large V.I.P. section — it seems at least one-third of the Jewish community is V.I.P. — was filled with many local politicians. Busloads of schoolchildren came, from Valley Beth Shalom, Milken, Stephen S. Wise, Sinai Akiba and others. Temples sent delegations. Israelis themselves turned out en masse — when Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa told the assembly “Shana Tova” and “Am Yisrael Chai,” he was speaking the native language of at least half the people there.

“This city stands with Israel in security and safety,” Villaraigosa said. “We must reaffirm in one voice our support for the Jewish state.”

To reinforce the point, a contingent of churches came, a black gospel choir filled the stage, the Mexican Consul General sent a delegation and a musical ensemble. The different representation was enough to make the point: This isn’t just a Jewish thing.

Then came the ceremony itself.

Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky and Councilman Jack Weiss, accompanied by a Marine, raised an American flag on one tall steel pole.

The gospel choir sang “God Bless America.” If you weren’t thinking of the Jewish immigrant Irving Berlin who wrote that song, you couldn’t appreciate the beautiful irony of the moment.

State Assembly Speaker Karen Bass raised the California flag on another pole. The mayor and Dayan, accompanied by two Israeli soldiers in uniform, raised the Israeli flag on the center pole.

I was close by then, maybe 5 feet away.

Some 30 men, women and children were blowing shofars as the flag went up. The young Israeli soldiers were smiling: It was a cool moment. The mayor looked solemn, as if he were in shul carrying the Torah.

And the consul general? He was choking back tears. I think if a line of cameras hadn’t been pointed at him, he’d have lost it. His grandfather died in the Holocaust, and now, 60 years later, he had managed to raise a flag that represents security, refuge and the possibility of peace to full, public view.

And then Elon Gold cracked another joke.

“The shofars are still blowing,” the comedian said from the dais. “At this point they’re auditioning for the Philharmonic. I don’t think you’re gonna get in, guys.”

That’s when it hit me why I was so moved — not because of the show of support, not because of the consul’s tears, but because of the jokes. It’s not that the flag represents Israel, it’s what Israel, at its best, represents. That, for me, was the deeper symbolism displayed on Wilshire Boulevard last Sunday. In a world filled with fanatical ideologues of all political and religious stripes, Israel has managed to endure not just as a refuge, but as a democracy, a land of tremendous freedom, creativity and, yes, humor. It is imperfect and imperiled. It has plenty of home-grown fanatics and anti-democratic forces to battle — but that battle has been joined since before its founding, and, to its credit, continues.

As much as the flag represents Israel, it represents these values, values that every passerby, Jewish or not, should want promoted and defended. Waving on Wilshire Boulevard between the Stars and Stripes and the Bear Flag, the Israeli flag is the perfect — pardon the expression — middle finger to all the fanatics out there.

And that’s no joke.

Bob Saget: Clean-cut and filthy (G-rated version)

Bob Saget was pondering his status as comedy’s reigning filth monger at a Santa Monica cafe recently.

“You play a guy who’s clean-cut and never curses for eight years, like I did on ‘Full House,’ and people think that’s who you are,” said Saget, who will be roasted on Comedy Central Aug. 17. “And then you talk really dirty in your act, and people think that’s who you are.”

The 52-year-old pauses, and a sheepish look crosses his still-boyish face. “Ah, I’m still doing it,” he admits. “I talked to Don Rickles last week, and he said, ‘So I watched your HBO special; I really liked it, but you left out two f-words.’ My response was, ‘I know. If I had only put in 200 less.'”

It’s a surprisingly repentant statement from a comic whose stand-up has quashed his wholesome TV image as “Full House” dad Danny Tanner and as the grinning host of “America’s Funniest Home Videos” in the late 1980s and 1990s.

During the 13 years since “Full House” wrapped its last episode (only to continue in endless syndication), neither Saget nor the Olsen twins, who shared the role of his youngest TV daughter, have lived up to the expectations of some.

While Mary-Kate and Ashley have become billionaire moguls and the targets of vociferous tabloid reportage, Saget has mocked his own sugary image with joke songs, such as “Danny Tanner Is Not Gay.”

This is the G-rated version of this story. For the uncensored version, click here.

Saget’s stand-up, in his words, has always been “perverted,” but that did not become widely known until he was asked to appear in the 2005 documentary, “The Aristocrats,” in which he out-raunched 100 other comedians. Since then, Saget has sold out stadiums and college theaters with an act so over-the-top nasty that it is outrageous even in a comedy zeitgeist already pushed to Sarah Silverman extremes.

His stream-of-consciousness riffs about incest, date rape, snuff films, bestiality and every possible bodily fluid are “a word salad of language so blisteringly blue that a potential diagnosis, as Saget freely admits on HBO, of Tourette’s syndrome cannot be ruled out,” the Washington Post said.

The promos for his Comedy Central roast feature Saget admonishing a donkey for trying to sniff his privates.

Even when he’s riffing about his synagogue, Kehillat Israel in Pacific Palisades, an animal somehow enters the picture.

“We have a great synagogue the rabbi will marry a man to a goat,” he said. “It’s Reconstructionist they’ll do gay marriage if you need it, they’ll do interfaith and interfaith’s nothing after a goat.”

Saget also has the reputation, among those who know him, to be as kind as he can be crude. A few days after the taping of his Comedy Central roast, he publicly protested the vulgar Olsen jokes proffered by roast master John Stamos (another “Full House” co-star) and dais participants, such as Gilbert Gottfried.

“Anybody who talks about my TV kids that upsets me,” Saget said in a statement. “I am very protective. I love them very, very much.”

Saget was more measured about the roast several days later: “Some of the comedy for sure crossed the line,” he said in an e-mail. “It’s a roast, and they went for it. I also believe in freedom of speech, and the comedians meant no harm.”

Saget said he gets to look at the final edit and that “Comedy Central has been incredibly collaborative. The director-producer, Joel Gallen, is very talented … and also has helped to talk me off of ledges over many aspects of this roast.

“I think it’s a very funny show, but it’s not for everyone,” he added, delicately.

Saget’s Kehillat Israel shows are far cleaner. He joined the congregation with his ex-wife, Sherri, in 1990, and their three daughters (now ages 15 to 21) had their bat mitzvahs there.

The synagogue’s rabbi, Steven Carr Reuben, is a fan: “Bob has appeared at almost every major event we’ve hosted in the last 15 years,” he said. “He once admitted to me that temple shows are the hardest to do, because he has to censor himself.

“Bob is particularly funny because he has this dual, schizophrenic reputation from the G-rated family shows to the X-rated stand-up show,” the rabbi added. “I appreciate his humor, because I know where it comes from: a sweet and loving way of communicating with people.

“Some comedy is cutting, but Bob’s humor is always designed for us to see the funny side of ourselves in difficult situations. He’ll be in the hospital visiting someone and making a joke about people’s catheters. It’s uncomfortable but funny, too.”

In person, Saget is warm and approachable, wears jeans and sneakers and speaks in the same stream-of-consciousness style he uses in his act. Over the course of two hours, he veers from a critical dissection of his neuroses (“I’m ADD for sure,” he said during the interview. “I’ve been Uri Gellering this spoon for half an hour.”); to his 2007 HBO special, “Bob Saget: That Ain’t Right”; to his recent shift to “actor mode,” with a Broadway turn in “The Drowsy Chaperone” and a new CW sitcom, “Surviving Suburbia,” in which he plays a disgruntled family man.

Then there are off-color jokes about his Ministry of Tourism trip to Israel years ago: He apparently got in trouble with his mother after showing a picture of her on a camel to Jay Leno on “The Tonight Show” and remarking that she’d never had anything that sizable between her legs.

Saget is alternately rueful about his profane stand-up (he tries to use the words “poo” and “pee” instead of their expletive counterparts, which in itself is hilarious) and describes himself as “self-loathing,” despite his confidence onstage

“I don’t have many things in my act you can look at and go, ‘Oh, someone else is doing that,'” he said. “How many people are claiming that they do my stuff?” he laughed. “It’s a style no one wants.”

But when the Chino-area earthquake interrupts the conversation, Saget sits through it with an almost eerie calm.

“Catastrophes calm me down,” he said. “The Jew has to be on game; you can’t mess up. But God forbid you said no salt in your food, and the waiter gives it to you. It’s like, ‘I distinctly said no croutons in my salad.’ The Jew wants his order correct.”

Saget traces his resilience and his particular brand of comedy to his late father, Ben, who had a “gallows sense of humor” shaped by painful events. The elder Saget had to go to work as a youth to support five younger siblings after their father died of cancer. Ben Saget survived all four of his brothers, some of whom died young.

By the time Bob Saget was in his 30s, both of his own siblings his sisters had died, one of a brain aneurism after a fall, the other after a three-year struggle with scleroderma, an autoimmune disease. Ben Saget’s humor helped keep the family sane through those deaths: “If we were at a shiva and dad heard a loud sound, he would mention the departed’s name, like, ‘Here she comes.'” the comic recalled.

“My dad also loved livestock jokes, because he was in the meat business,” Saget said of the origins of his own penchant for such humor. “His delivery was wry, deadpan, with a Cheshire cat grin. He always looked as if he were up to something perverted in his mind.”

When Bob Saget was young, humor also proved to be his own survival mechanism. The family relocated several times as Ben Saget set up businesses in various cities.

Bob Saget was born in Philadelphia but also lived in Virgina and in Encino, where he attended Birmingham High for two years. He said he was “the least funny person in the world” from the time of his bar mitzvah until he was in his late teens.

“I was miserable because we moved a lot, and I just was nerdy and overweight and didn’t have any friends,” he said.

In high school, he made friends by casting them in his own Super-8 films, with titles such as “Hitler on the Roof” and “Beach Blanket Blintzes,” which starred “a big blintz who turned people into sour cream. It wasn’t a film, it was garbage,” he said.

“But the first time I ever did stand-up was when I introduced that movie to an audience in the neighborhood. Then when I was 17, I started going to comedy clubs in New York, to Catch a Rising Star and The Improv, where I’d stand in line for 10 hours to sign the open-mic sheet.”

He attended Temple University and then moved to Los Angeles to attend USC but gave that up after Mitzi Shore offered him a gig at the Comedy Store, where he eventually served as emcee.

Saget hung out with Sam Kinnison and partied.

“It was like ‘Boogie Nights,’ except we didn’t go into the Valley,” he said.

A number of comedians recognized Saget’s talent: Rodney Dangerfield told him, “I like your head, you got a Jew head, you can’t stop thinking”; and Garry Shandling got him on “The Tonight Show,” where he returned numerous times, always on the couch, not for stand-up.

It was Saget’s role in the Richard Pryor film, “Critical Condition” that drew the attention of television producers: The result: In 1987, he was cast as Danny Tanner in “Full House” “the most non-Jewish character in the world,” he said. “They tried to get me to say grace once, but I couldn’t. I was laughing too hard; so they had to give it to John [Stamos].”

Saget and Stamos proved raunchy on the set. There was a donkey in one episode they called Pepper Mill (use your imagination), and Saget could not resist lewdly playing with the life-sized stand-in doll while the Olsens were at school.

Some critics trashed his character, which still makes Saget bristle.

“The show was on for eight years, so I think they appreciated me just fine,” he said.

A number of people have told Saget that they hated him until they saw his dirtier side in “The Aristocrats,” the documentary that transformed his image in the popular culture. In the film, 100 comics were asked to perform their own version of an old vaudeville joke about a family auditioning for an agent with an incestuous act.

But the humor is not really about the grotesquerie. “To me, the joke is about the sweaty desperation of show business,” Saget said. “What’s funny is that a family, a family I can’t say that word enough would do that, not to get a job but to get an agent to represent them. You can’t lower the bar on humanity much further. That’s a turd on a turd on a turd.”

Saget said he can talk about unspeakable acts, but the idea of real abuse revolts him.

“I don’t like to see violence. It’s like a form of pornography,” he said. “I take things so heavy, like politics and where the world is at, and where we are with kids. I mean, it’s just absurd; 99 percent of what we’re doing it’s all a sin.

“I just find it so upsetting that I go to another place; I become a 12-year-old,” he continued. “I talk about poo and pee because it makes me laugh and because anything we can’t control can be amusing. So when things come out of our bodies are air driven or liquid or solid it’s funny. I was going to say that I’m holding a mirror up to people, but you don’t really want to look at yourself while you’re doing it.”

When Saget isn’t being serious and sometimes when he is he punctuates a horrific statement with a low, devilish-sounding laugh: “heh heh heh.”

“If you turn the sound off my HBO special it just looks like that nice guy from TV,” he said, with his laugh. “It’s demonic, it’s what Satan does though I don’t believe in Satan. He lures people in with his kind ways and his smiling face, and then he says terrible things and bursts people into flames.”

But unlike Satan, he said, “I don’t do anything harmful to anyone. I’m here to save the world by telling them that the real problems aren’t language or perversions, it’s acting on those things.”

For information about the roast or how to purchase Saget’s HBO DVD, you can visit Comedy Central and

Photo by Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images for Comedy Central

The world according to Mort Sahl and friends

Half a century after Mort Sahl packed in Berkeley undergrads and hip San Franciscans at the hungry i nightclub, the man who revolutionized stand-up comedy hasn’t mellowed.

For instance, “Hillary [Clinton] is running on an entitlement ticket because she happened to be married to a president,” Sahl observes during a phone interview.

“[Barack] Obama has a following because men and women want to escape that woman.

“Can you believe that after 4,000 American dead in Iraq, John McCain is running as a warrior? What warrior? Vietnam, a war that was never declared?”

Sahl will freely share his political insights when he appears at Temple Aliyah in Woodland Hills on April 6, although his topic is billed as “The History of American Jewish Humor.”

He will headline an afternoon program of veteran funny men, including comic Shelley Berman and comedy writers Arnie Kogan (“Tonight Show,” “Carol Burnett”) and Howard Storm (“Everybody Loves Raymond”), collectively known as Yarmy’s Army.

The group’s name honors the memory of comic Dick Yarmy, brother of Don Adams (“Get Smart”), and all proceeds will benefit the Motion Picture Home in Calabasas.

Also on the program is storyteller Karen Gold.

At 80, Sahl still performs regularly, although he has also gone academic. He is currently a visiting professor at Claremont College, where he teaches one course on screenwriting, and another one titled, “The Revolutionary’s Handbook.”

The latter class focuses on Sahl’s long obsession with the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, which Sahl is convinced was part of a covered-up conspiracy.

He enjoys his role as a newly coined professor, but, he laments, “most kids don’t know the history of this country. They can’t get it from television or the Internet, but they should really learn something before they become investment bankers.”

As for his own political identity, Sahl defines himself as a populist, “like Huey Long — I trust the people.”

Although Sahl is frequently credited with fathering a generation of stand-up comics that included Lenny Bruce, Sahl doesn’t acknowledge any paternity.

“Lenny was neither profound nor political,” Sahl said. “Comics today look at humor as escapism. I look at it as confrontational.”

The major Jewish contribution to American humor has been to “define irony,” but a more basic Jewish legacy has also spurred anti-Semitism, according to Sahl.

“I asked my class why Jews were so widely hated, and when no one answered, I suggested that ‘Jews fashioned a moral straightjacket that inhibits people from killing each other — it’s also called conscience.'”

His sardonic comments aside, Sahl maintains that he maintains a sunny outlook. “I still believe in love and justice,” he said. “Without them, you’re better off dead.”

The April 6 event represents the third annual Gladys and Herman Sturman Celebration of Jewish Life, co-sponsored by Congregation Shir Ami and Temple Aliyah. The program starts at 1 p.m. at Temple Aliyah, 6025 Valley Circle Drive, Woodland Hills. Tickets, most of which have already been sold, are $10 each and can be purchased by phoning Clara Rosenbluth at (818) 348-1498, or Ellen Fremed at (818) 886-8853.

Joan Rivers’ ‘Life’ — audacious, as always

“I’m angry about everything,” comedian Joan Rivers says.

“I’m angry about getting older, about men being morons, about Hollywood being such a use-and-discard business. I’m angry that for women it’s all about looks — when it isn’t for men — and you can tell me ‘No,’ you can yell and argue, but if you’re good in bed with big boobs and looking gorgeous, you’re gonna get someplace.”

For more than four decades, Rivers has used her rage to carve her niche as comedy’s most seething yenta. Whether she is skewering celebrities on the red carpet, doing stand-up or performing one of her autobiographical plays (“Joan Rivers: A Work in Progress by a Life in Progress” runs Feb. 13 through March 16 at the Geffen Playhouse) her acid tongue deliberately provokes.

What does Rivers claim to have told Mick Jagger? “Iron your face.”

Jesus “freaks”?: “If Jesus loved you, he would have given you an f— chin.”

Paris Hilton?: “Memories are precious — make more home movies.”

New Yorkers after Sept. 11?: “So who do you wish had died?”

You’d think she’d be booed off the stage for some of her most vitriolic bits, and audience members do boo, but mostly they relish her shtick, because “I tell the truth,” she says. “I say not only what I think, but what everyone thinks.”

Rivers’ new play, which she calls “a one-woman show with four characters,” was spurred by (what else) something that made her livid. She was preparing to work the red carpet at the Academy Awards four years ago when her job was on the line.

“Something horrible, just awful was done to me,” she says in her raspy voice. “My response was ‘Uch, nobody would believe this; this would make a great play.”

Rivers won’t divulge specifics about that incident (she wants to surprise audiences), but she will say that the show is set in a dressing room at an awards show where her cheese plate is puny and her producer is “the bigwig’s nephew, not the bigwig.”

The shabby milieu prompts Rivers to reflect upon her tumultuous life. In 1986 Rivers was perhaps the most successful female comic of her generation when a feud with Johnny Carson, for whom she had been a favored fill-in host, devastated her career. She reinvented herself as a QVC shopping channel diva in order to hawk her own jewelry, then reinvented herself yet again, as a red carpet interviewer, after suddenly finding herself $37 million in debt as the result of a business setback. Along the way, she survived the suicide of her husband, Edgar Rosenberg, in 1987, and reworked her face with cosmetic surgery because “stretched-looking is better than wrinkled.”

Today Rivers is as known for her face-lifts and botox shots as she is for her catty patter.

“I’m a big advocate,” she says of nips and tucks. “You redo your car and repaint your house. So if you want to feel better and have a better looking nose, or lift your eyes, what’s so terrible?”

Onstage, Rivers ridicules her own vanity, claiming “I wish I had a twin, so I’d know what I look like without plastic surgery.”

She also professes to hate old people: “I really do hate them, because they remind me of me,” she says in a telephone interview. “Of course it’s all self-loathing. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s making me a great living.”

Some of that self-analysis comes through in her plays, which, she says, are “quite different from my stand-up. They’re more controlled and there’s much more serious stuff happening. My new play is about survival and starting again, no matter where you are in life. It’s about when you do have to go back to the [proverbial] old dressing room, the old dirty dressing room that is waiting for you.”

Bart DeLorenzo, who is directing the play, says he was drawn to the piece because “it shows you the Joan Rivers you expect — the outrageous, manically funny, brutally honest performer — and also a side she’s never presented onstage, which is the story of her life. The stories she tells are funny and embarrassing and they’re also heartbreaking. Obviously, there was the huge crisis when the personal and the professional came together, when she was fired by Fox, and her husband died shortly thereafter. But Rivers has been tested throughout her life. The humiliation and the rejection she encountered is overwhelming, yet she endured and was driven to move on.”

On a recent afternoon, Rivers is ensconced in digs that seem light years away from that dressing room at the Oscars four years ago. She says she is sitting in her large bathroom-office — half the sink counter has been transformed into a desk — gazing out the window at a spectacular view of Central Park. She describes her outfit — “Chanel-they-should-only-drop-dead-because-they-hate-Jews pants” — and the Thanksgiving joke she told on “The View:” “Mel Gibson gave me my turkey recipe; it says, ‘preheat the oven to 9,000 degrees.'”

“I just like to remind people about Mel Gibson,” she says. “He made ‘The Passion,’ with the Jewish characters and their hook noses, and he says he’s not anti-Semitic? Bad, bad, bad. Any Jew who sees a Mel Gibson movie should be ashamed of themselves. I certainly won’t.”

If Rivers identifies in any way as a Jewish performer, it’s in the emphasis she places on survival — a skill she first learned from her immigrant parents.

“They both had to flee Russia because of the revolution, but my father left because his family was so poor, and my mother left because her family was rich — ‘court Jews’ who sold fur and bricks to the czarist army,” she says.

“My mother was only 6 years old when she left, but she remembered servants carrying big silver platters with pears stuffed with caviar in for dinner,” Rivers adds. “And then when her family came to America they were desperately poor, and my grandfather couldn’t take it. He went back to Russia and died of starvation in St. Petersburg. It was my grandmother who made the transition to life in America. And it was only in America that my parents could have met and married.”

Don Rickles on film for the very first time

A Musical Odyssey, Comic Con at the Shrine, Two’s Company, Man Ray


Pack a suitcase with excitement and wonder because tonight you will be embarking on “A Musical Odyssey.” Your journey begins in the South Bay and takes you first to hear the symphonic sounds of Jewish klezmer and choral music performed by the Los Angeles Jewish Symphony. Your next musical port of call will include mystical melodies from Spain, Persia, Yemen and Israel performed by the talented and ubiquitous Yuval Ron Ensemble. Featuring vocals by Tehila Lauder and dance by Melanie Kareem, the Ensemble will whisk you away to the Holy Land with their “‘West Bank Story’ Suite,” a compilation of music from the Academy Award-winning short film. Proceeds from this auditory odyssey will benefit the religious school at Congregation Ner Tamid of South Bay.

8-10 p.m. $50, $75. Redondo Beach Performing Arts Center, 1935 Manhattan Beach Blvd., Redondo Beach. (310) 377-3510. ” target=”_blank”>

10 a.m.-5 p.m. $8. Shrine Auditorium Expo Center, 700 W. 32nd St., Los Angeles. (818) 954-8432. ” border = 0 vspace = ‘8’ alt=”Alan Menken”>” target=”_blank”>


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The golden age of screwball comedy in Hollywood began with a handful of Jews in the 1930s — Billy Wilder, Ben Hecht and Sidney Buchman are just a few names synonymous with slapstick. Jon Edelman is bringing back the farcical, the ridiculous and the fast-talking with his wacky post-modern “Screwballs.” Set in a tiny desert inn, the play has a classic screwball plot involving a divorced couple who can’t seem to let go and end up swapping bodies. The result is, as you can imagine, disastrous and hilarious and screwy.

Thu.-Sun., through Dec. 15. $20. Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West Los Angeles. (310) 477-2055.


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Films: Garlin hopes audience will be pleased with ‘Cheese’

Jeff Garlin loves being Jewish. He’s a borscht-eating, challah-noshing, temple-going, “big bowl of Jewish,” as he so proudly describes himself.

A proud Jew at home, Garlin also plays one on television.

Best known as Jeff Greene on the hit comedy series “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” which returns to HBO for its sixth season on Sunday, Sept. 9, he plays the schlemiel manager to schlimazel Larry David, who created the show, as well as co-creating “Seinfeld.”

In addition, Garlin is aso gearing up for the Sept. 14 launch of “I Want Someone to Eat Cheese With,” a feature comedy he wrote, directed and stars in opposite Sarah Silverman and Bonnie Hunt. Garlin plays James, an overweight Jewish improv actor who can’t seem to catch a break.

Garlin says he identifies with James because, “it’s what I created … my writing is very personal.”

The Chicago-born actor made his stand-up debut at age 20, in the early 1980s, after dropping out of the University of Miami. Garlin spent much of the 1990s working with Second City, where he perfected his improvisational skills.

The film is a kind of Second City reunion, featuring such talent as Dan Castellaneta, Amy Sedaris and Richard Kind. Garlin describes the experience of working with old friends as “great fun … when you have a great friend and then you work together again, its like you just worked with them the day before. It doesn’t go away when it’s right.”

In “Cheese,” James is a binge-eating, out-of-work actor who lives with his mother. While struggling to win the lead role in a remake of the film “Marty,” a character James feels he was born to play, he juggles romances with Beth (Silverman), an off-beat chubby-chaser, and Stella (Hunt), a somewhat depressed, yet hopelessly romantic schoolteacher.

The first draft of “Cheese” was written in 1997, and Garlin said he returned to the project on and off over the years. Unable to secure financing, he says he continues to rewrite the script “to feel creative and connected to the project.”

Distributed by IFC First Take and the Weinstein Co., “Cheese” premiered at the 2006 Tribeca Film Festival and opens in Los Angeles on Sept. 14.

When Garlin returns to the small screen for the sixth season of “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” he taps his Second City skills with scripts that rely on improvised dialogue.

As for rumors this will be the show’s final season: “It might be,” he said.

Garlin adds that if he had the chance to star in his own spin-off series titled “Jeff,” he would only do it if Larry David would be heavily involved in the project.

Regardless of the fate of “Curb,” he says he simply wants to continue acting, directing, writing and laughing.

But even with all of his success and his prospects for the future, Garlin prays he’ll be inscribed for another year in the Book of Life and wishes the entire Jewish community a hearty “Zai gezunt.”

The sixth season of “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” premiers on HBO, Sept. 9, 10 p.m. “I Want Someone to Eat Cheese With” opens Sept. 14 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in West Hollywood, Monica 4-Plex in Santa Monica and the Playhouse 7 in Pasadena.

‘Yippee’ — Paul Mazursky documents Chasids gone wild

In all his 76 years, filmmaker Paul Mazursky had never seen anything like the 25,000 Chasidim singing, swaying, blowing shofars and dancing around a lake.

“It’s like the old days at the Apollo in Harlem, with the crowd going wild,” the irreverent Mazursky said. “Can you dig it?”

The scene is from his documentary, “Yippee: A Journey to Jewish Joy,” which had its Southland premier this week at the Palm Springs International Film Festival. The film is quite a change of pace for the creator of such quirky social comedies and dramas as “Bob”&”Carol”&”Ted”&”Alice,” “Harry and Tonto,” “Next Stop, Greenwich Village,” “An Unmarried Woman,” “Down and Out in Beverly Hills” and “Enemies: A Love Story.”

Despite his artistic reputation and string of Oscar nominations, Mazursky has found it increasingly difficult to find backing for his iconoclastic movies, which are infused with his wry take on the human condition.

During the past decade, after a quadruple heart bypass operation, Mazursky has gone back to his roots as an actor and comedian, including parts in HBO’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and “The Sopranos,” while looking for the right combination of film and financing.

But last year, he and his two camera crews found themselves in Uman, a Ukrainian town of 80,000, whose population swells every Rosh Hashanah during an invasion of ecstatic Chasidim dressed in white kitels (robes), black suits or streimels (fur hats).

They come to pray at the grave of Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, the great Chasidic master, disputatious tzadik (learned scholar) and great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Chasidic movement. Nachman was buried in Uman in 1811 at the age of 38.

What had brought the insistently secular Mazursky to Uman were the urgings of three disparate Angelenos: David Miretsky, his optometrist; Shmuel Levy, a devout Moroccan-born rock musician; and Rabbi Ezriel Tauber.

All three regularly participated in the pilgrimage to Uman, and they promised Mazursky that he would witness an event unlike any he had ever experienced.

Putting up $50,000 of his own money, and with his broken arm in a sling, Mazursky embarked on the adventure with his friends and a six-man crew, including his son-in-law.

During a brief layover in Munich, he warmed up by filming the beer-swilling Oktoberfest, before stopping in Kiev, where his grandfather is buried, and then reaching Uman after a three-hour drive.

In the run-up to the climax of the three-day celebration, Mazursky meets and talks with Chasidim, policemen, scholars and peasants, combining the roles of an innocent abroad, travel guide and self-described “wise guy from Brooklyn.”

Typical is his encounter with two local peasant women selling fruit from a sidewalk cart. They, like all the other Uman natives, know about Rosh Hashanah, which enriches the town by $2 million each year.

Despite the windfall, one woman is not entirely happy.

“Jews are not cultured people,” she complains. The other woman disagrees.

“They are cultured,” she insists, “they are just different.”

Mazursky’s camera lingers on other happenings. There is a rustic folk festival with pretty dancing girls in costumes and later, Vodka Appreciation Day, during which the filmmaker digs into his bottomless reservoir of jokes, many unprintable.

His favorite joke, told at least three times in the film, goes something like this: Cohen meets Schwartz in New York’s old garment district and Cohen says, “I heard about the fire.” Schwartz puts his fingers to his lips and whispers, “Shhhh, tomorrow.” (The joke dates back to at least the Great Depression, when some storeowners facing bankruptcy would set fire to their shops to collect insurance money.)

The film climaxes on the evening of Rosh Hashanah, when the 25,000 Chasidim throw their sins into the lake and pray, dance and sing through the candle-lit night.

“Madonna and Woody Allen should be here,” Mazursky murmurs.

Before leaving, Mazursky organizes a bull session with Tauber and Dr. Julian Unger, a British neurologist, to explore the meaning of what he has seen.

“We come to Uman because on the day of judgment, Rabbi Nachman will be our lawyer, pleading our case before God,” Tauber explains.

Unger has a darker observation. “You know, 37 years before Rabbi Nachman came to Uman, there was a great pogrom here and thousands of Jews were drowned in the lake.

“When the Nazis came, they again murdered Uman’s Jews,” Unger continued. “It is a great irony that in 2005, we should be dancing in the streets of Uman. We are dancing on the graves of our martyrs.”

Mazursky, the wise guy from Brooklyn, drew his own lessons. “I could never think like a Chasid,” he ruminated during a two-hour interview in his crowded Beverly Hills office.

“I think of life as a cosmic joke, which keeps getting bigger all the time. But I’ve learned tolerance and maybe affection for the Chasidim. They are real people, who can see light in the darkest things,” he said.

The title of the film comes from another Mazursky observation. “It is better to wake up in the morning and instead of kvetching, say ‘Yippee.'”

“Yippee” is available on DVD through the National Center for Jewish Film at Brandeis University and will be included in a retrospective of Mazursky’s works at New York’s Lincoln Center, May 4-10.Paul Mazursky

Theater: Troy vs. ‘Tsuris’

“How should I prepare?” asks playwright Mark Troy after agreeing to an interview the following morning about his new play, “Tsuris,” opening Friday, Dec. 22, at the Sidewalk Studio Theater in Toluca Lake. “Should I wear a blue tuxedo?”
Although he is not a standup comedian and says he has a “pathological fear of being in front of an audience,” Mark Troy is always “on.”

When asked whether he is Jewish, Troy responds, “You will be needing proof of that?”

Actually, there is no need for such proof from Troy, whose last name may conjure images of Hector fighting Achilles, but whose latest play is about battles of a more contemporary nature — among Jewish spouses, parents and their children in Florida.

Troy has written many plays about Jews, including “Join the Club,” which just played at a Malibu festival and revolved around the decision of a 35-year-old man to get a circumcision. Another play, “Getting to Bupkus,” focuses on a 12-year-old Jewish boy who runs away the night before his bar mitzvah and comes back 12 years later.

Their storylines may remind one of TV shows and films from the past, the first calling to mind the “Sex and the City” episode in which one of Charlotte’s dates decides to test out his newly circumcised penis on multiple partners, and the second bringing back memories of “The Bar Mitzvah Boy,” the film that every 12-year-old Jewish boy has seen.

Troy’s new play, “Tsuris,” also has a familiarity to it, but that doesn’t mean that his dialogue lacks freshness. Troy has his characters rattle off humorous lines like, “Florida is like dog years; you times everything by seven.”

Troy is not suggesting that everyone living in Florida is preternaturally ancient, but rather that “something slows you down” and you end up replicating your grandmother’s habits — going to K-mart, going to the pool, then another pool and, most of all, eating dinner at 4 p.m. at Bagel Palace or Bagel Nosh or Bagel Land.

At these bagel emporia, elders may even utter adages such as this parody of Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man speech: “They say every man should have three wives. When he’s in his 20s … there’s the lustful wife. Then in midlife, he has the motherly wife. Then in his final golden years…the companion wife…. Thank God I’ve found in Irma Messersmidt the lustful whore I’ve been missing.”

“Tsuris” plays Dec. 22 through Feb. 3 at the Sidewalk Studio Theater, 4150 Riverside Drive, Toluca Lake.

Books: Shmegegis of old, shmegegis of gold

“Old Jewish Comedians,” illustrated by Drew Friedman, edited by Monte Beauchamp. (Fantagraphics Books, $14.95) .

“Weep before God. Laugh before people.”
— Jewish Folk-Saying.

Who doesn’t love old Jewish comedians? Those mamzers of mirth and halutzim of humor who paved the road from the Catskills to Vegas as first-generation entertainers. Now comes “Old Jewish Comedians,” a book to honor these slapsticklers and ticklemen of the 20th century. Thirty-two pages of funny faces (all guys), the book is “An Illustrated Gallery of Jewish American Comedians, Comics, Comic Actors, Clowns, and Tummlers Depicted in the Sunset of Their Years.” Artist Drew Friedman’s portraits cover the greats and the greatly forgotten, from George Burns and Buddy Hackett, to Benny Rubin and Joe Smith.

Friedman, whom I first enjoyed for his funny illustrations in SPY Magazine, and whose work currently is seen in MAD, the New York Observer, Los Angeles Magazine and other publications, said that none of the comedians posed for him.

“I have a fairly extensive photo file which was very helpful,” he said.

He’s collected pictures of comedians since he was a child. (Bruce Jay Friedman, the author’s father, appears in “Old Jewish Comedians” in a photo from 1940 in the Catskills with comedian Jackie Miles.)

“Rich reality” is how Leonard Maltin describes Friedman’s style in his foreword. Included in the book are the real names for these “show-business survivors” as Maltin calls them: Shecky Green/Sheldon Greenfield, Freddie Roman/Fred Martin Kirschenbaum, Rodney Dangerfield/Jacob Cohen, Henny/Henry Youngman, et al.

Unfortunately, the only writing in “Old Jewish Comedians” is Maltin’s foreword.

“I didn’t want it to be ‘history’ book,” Friedman explained. “There are already those out there. I wanted their styles to be illustrated in their faces and the context of the drawing. Maltin’s intro puts everything into historical context.”

So where to go if you want to learn more about these Jewish jesters? The ones who didn’t make it because comedy was less marketable back then, 50 years before HBO, Showtime, Comedy Central and clubs expanded stand-up venues are described in detail by Betsy Borns in her 1987 treatise, “Comic Lives.” Most never even flashed the free- wheeling coffeehouse style that Gerald Nachman recounts in “Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 60s.” (Shelley/Sheldon Leonard Berman being the exception, appearing in that 2003 book and this one.)

To really evaluate the book, I went to 92-year-old Irving Brecher. After all, Brecher is old, Jewish and he has not only done stand-up, he wrote for some of Friedman’s alter kackers, like Milton Berlinger (Berle, on the cover), Nathan Birnbaum (George Burns, inside cover), and the Marx Brothers (Julius, Adolph and Leonard, middle two pages of book.)

Book open, over split pea soup and half a pastrami on rye at Label’s Table on Pico Boulevard, I quizzed Brecher about “OJC” who never found the fame of a Moses — Harry Horwitz/Moe Howard or Jerome Levitch/Jerry Lewis, a Jack Chakrin/Jack Carter or Archibald Donald Rickles/ Don Rickles, et al.

— Irv, here’s Harry Joachim.

“That’s Harry Ritz of the Ritz Brothers. Harry was the only one who was talented. Al and Jimmy were nothing.”

— Menasha Skulnik?

“That’s his real name. Great Yiddish comedian. The Yiddish theater was a remarkable place. I wish you’d seen it.”

— Joseph Seltzer?

“Joe Smith of Smith & Dale, the famous vaudeville team. They made a movie called “The Heart of New York,” which is a museum piece. For collectors.”

— Abraham Kalish?

“Al Kelly. Al did double talk. That was his style. He spoke gibberish in vaudeville sketches and all the people would try to be polite.

— While he mocked them?

“No, not mocking them. The audience would laugh. But people in the real world he dealt with would be taken in.”

— Sounds like what Borat does!

“Haven’t seen it. But most comedians couldn’t do it like Al Kelly could. He was unique.”

— Here’s a fellow named Ben Rubin…

“Benny Rubin used to work for me! When he was up in vaudeville. I’d give him a part in “The Life of Riley” radio show. In Hollywood, when they wanted a Jew with a long nose, they’d hire him. The lousy Hollywood producers. He’d make $150. I’d never use a character with a Jewish accent. Like Jack Benny [Benjamin Kubelsky] did with ‘Mr. Schlepperman.'”

— He used a thick Jewish accent?

“I hated it, that very stereotypical annoying character.

— Who played him?

“Artie Auerbach. Listen, do they have Jan Murray in this book?”

— No.

“I’m surprised.”

Friedman said not to worry; Jan Murray/Murray Janofsky will appear in the sequel, “More Old Jewish Comedians,” due in 2008.

Brecher said he hopes the sequel has a bit, or routine, a catchphrase, something from each comedian to go with the pictures.

Theater: All in the ‘Herbicide’ family

The Emmy-winning writer Jay Kogen (“The Simpsons,” “The Class” and other shows) is helping Herb Astrow go over the opening lines of his first solo stage performance.

“Remember, it’s an intimate evening with,” Kogen tells him. “It’s your party. So rather than just going into a story, you want to be welcoming.”

“Welcome to the height of self-indulgence!” Astrow announces, cracking everybody up at rehearsal.

Astrow, a 72-year-old Los Angeles restaurateur (Yankee Doodles on the Santa Monica Promenade), is, after 50 years, returning to his first love: the theater. In a benefit at the Santa Monica Playhouse, he’ll star in “Herbicide” Dec. 9 and 10.

Astrow’s most recent role was playing Stanley the waiter in a production of “Death of a Salesman.”

“At Brooklyn College,” he laughs. “In 1958. As a kid I wanted to be an actor, but my own kids came along….”

“He’s been great at being brutally honest,” says Kogen, Astrow’s director, who helped him reduce 16 wild tales to the four most resonant. Or redolent, like the one where Astrow smells so bad from working at Nathan Strauss Twentieth Century Fish Market in Flatbush, that he rubs cologne into his jeans before bicycling off to meet his buddies, “Itchy” (Joel Stanislaw), “Rooster” (Stu Lazarus), “Ziggy” (Marvin Zelenitz), and “Pot Cheese” (Jerry Potolsky). Astrow was “Hercules.”

It was 1944, “that perfect time when the Jews, the Irish, the Italians all lived together,” says Astrow ‘s sister, Jo Anne Astrow. “It was a golden time for education in New York.”

Jo Anne Astrow named their production company Chestnut Avenue Productions, after the “last documented dirt road in Brooklyn,” where they lived above their Sicilian landlord, Mr. Sharaldi.

Sharaldi “owned the last horse in Brooklyn,” Herb says. “He called his horse ‘Horse.’ During the winter, when his ass got frozen to the wagon seat, he changed Horse’s name to ‘You F—– Horse.'”

Astrow went to work at the age of 9, making $4 a week delivering fish, which helped pay the rent.

His father, Barney, was his hero: “He sat in a chair reading the dictionary and the encyclopedia and philosophized on life.” He taught Herb to “always compliment women on their appearance and especially say nice things about their home furnishings.”

But multiple sclerosis forced Barney to quit his florist business. The family went on welfare, and when Barney had to move to another home, the Brooklyn Jewish Hospital for Chronic Diseases, Astrow’s mother became his hero.

“By the sheer force of her will to survive,” he recalls. “God bless that crazy woman!”
Elsie Astrow underwent shock treatments for depression and used to beat her son with his father’s cane “over some nonsense thing I did, like eating too many creamsicles” he says.
She was suicidal, but saved his life with the taste of her lamb stew with sugared apple dumplings and the slap of a catcher’s mitt when Herb was choking to death one night at dinner.

The title of the show itself comes from “the life and death struggles” he says he had once with a houseplant.

“Struggles with a life,” adds sister Jo Anne Astrow, leading to Herb Astrow’s story of the vodka-and-Tab habit he picked up after breaking off with his textile business partners, the poisonous dieffenbachia plant and a Thanksgiving dinner in Queens where the two opposing sides of his family — Russian Jews and German Jews — no longer agree to “respectfully loathe each other.”

“Herbicide” is a family project. His son-in-law came up with the title, and Jo Anne Astrow not only co-produced (with Sally Schaub), she figures funnily in the stories. (She’s also comedian Lewis Black’s manager.) And director Kogen’s family and the Astrows grew up and vacationed together for years on Fire Island.

“Even when I was little,” Kogen says of his actor, “we all knew he had an adventurous life. We were told, ‘Don’t go on the boat with Uncle Herbie!'”

Proceeds from “Herbicide” will go to the Save the Playhouse capital campaign to put a down payment on the building at Fourth Street near Wilshire Boulevard.

George Vennes, Santa Monica Playhouse technical director, tells The Journal, “Rent for the offices, two theaters and two rehearsal spaces is up to $10,000 a month.”

With Youth Theater, cultural outreach and a legendary history, the Playhouse, says Vennes, “caters from two to 92.”

It was one of the playhouse’s ongoing workshops, an acting class with the actor Jeffrey Tambor, that first got Astrow interested in telling his stories onstage. And it was his writing coach, Wendy Kaminoff, who dared Astrow to make it happen. (Well, her business card does say: “Creative Ass Kicker”)

“Herb is this wonderful combination of New York savvy, old school wisdom and outrageous life experiences,” Kaminoff says. “Imagine Garrison Keillor, only if he was a handsome Jewish guy from Brooklyn.”

“Herbicide,” Dec. 9 at 8 p.m., Dec. 10 at 7 p.m. $20. Price includes a post show reception at the playhouse. Santa Monica Playhouse 1211 4th St. For information call (310) 394-9779 Ext. 1

Hank Rosenfeld is writing a book with Irving Brecher, who wrote for Milton Berle and the Marx Brothers.

7 Days in the Arts

Saturday the

The JCCs’ Celebrity Staged Play Readings, produced and directed by Alexandra More, have been going strong for 11 seasons. Consider taking in the first of their 12th season’s selections. The comedy/drama, “Brooklyn Boy,” by Pulitzer-winning author Donald Margulies, plays this weekend, starring Stephen Macht as Eric, a Jewish author in his late 30s grappling with sudden huge success.

Sept. 16: 7:30 p.m. $12-$16. Valley Cities JCC, 13164 Burbank Blvd., Sherman Oaks. (818) 786-6310.

Sept. 17: 2 p.m. $12-$16. Westside JCC, 5870 W. Olympic Blvd., Los Angeles. (323) 938-2531, ext. 2225.

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Wednesday the

Get in touch with your child, and your inner child. Quality time with the family comes courtesy of Barnes and Noble in Aliso Viejo, today. A special “Rosh Hashanah Storytime” with Chabad of Laguna’s preschool director, Perel Goorevitch, includes storytelling, a guitar sing-along and arts and crafts.
4 p.m. 26751 Aliso Creek Road, Aliso Viejo. (949) 362-8027.

Thursday the

Morocco’s Jewish and Muslim cultures, and the social and physical spaces they inhabit, are explored in UCLA Fowler Museum’s new exhibition. “Liminal Spaces: Photographs of Morocco by Rose-Lynn Fisher.” It opens this week, with an opening reception Sunday, Sept. 17 at 2 p.m. It remains on view through Jan. 14.

Free. Fowler Museum, UCLA campus, Westwood. (310) 825-8655. ” TARGET=”_blank”>

7 Days in the Arts

Saturday, July 15
Pretty Charlize Theron plays chairwoman for Los Angeles Free Clinic’s ninth annual “Extravaganza for the Senses.” The food and wine event features tastes from some 40 local restaurants — ranging from high-end Angelini Osteria to lower-end but highly tasty Poquito Más — and some 100 wineries. Also on the bill are live music and a silent auction.

6-10 p.m. $90 (general), $200 (VIP). Twentieth Century Fox, 10201 W. Pico Blvd., Los Angeles. R.S.V.P., (323) 330-1670 ” width=”15″ height=”1″ alt=””>

Sunday, July 16
Make some time for “Zero Hour.” West Coast Jewish Theatre’s latest is this one-man show, written by and starring Jim Brochu, as Zero Mostel. The play tells Mostel’s life story, from his youth growing up on New York’s Lower East Side, through his early highs as a stand-up comedian and lows when he was blacklisted, to his ultimate huge success on Broadway.

8 p.m. (Fri. and Sat.), 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. (Sun.). $20-$30. Egyptian Arena Theatre, 1625 N. Las Palmas, Hollywood. R.S.V.P., (323) 595-4849.



Monday, July 17
Funny girls perform for tonight’s charity benefit, “4 Women For Women,” supporting the Women’s Clinic and Family Counseling Center. Julia Sweeney hosts, with Laraine Newman, Melanie Chartoff, Ann Randolph and Terrie Silverman each offer some comic relief. Also scheduled is a silent auction, special eBay auction of black bras worn by the stars and a kissing booth with “special guest smoochers.”

6:30 p.m. (reception), 8 p.m. (performances). $100. The Hayworth Theater, 2511 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles. (323) 376-9339. ” target=”_blank”>


Tuesday, July 18
Jack Rutberg Fine Arts goes big for summer, offering an exhibition of more than 50 major paintings, drawings, original prints and sculpture by heavyweight artists including David Hockney, Ruth Weisberg, Arthur Dove and Marc Chagall. “Summer Selections: Portraits, Places, Perspectives” runs through Sept. 9.

357 N. La Brea Ave., Los Angeles. (323) 938-5222.” width=”15″ height=”1″ alt=””>

Wednesday, July 19
An expansive art exhibition can also be viewed, and purchased, at the Workmen’s Circle. “Curating a Better World: 10th Anniversary Show” features donated works from artists who have participated in the Circle’s 62 previous exhibitions over the last 10 years.

Through Aug. 25. 1525 S. Robertson Blvd., Los Angeles. (310) 552-2007. ” width=”15″ height=”1″ alt=””>

Thursday, July 20
Got a kitschy song in your heart? Head to the Aero Theatre for the first night of its “Can’t Stop the Musicals” series. In this installment, the series pays homage to the guilty pleasures from “an era not normally thought of as rich territory for filmed musicals: the 1970s and 1980s.” Tonight, that translates to a screening of Menahem Golan’s “The Apple.” Head back other nights for “Flashdance,” “Rock ‘N Roll High School,” “Jesus Christ Superstar,” “Tommy,” “Hair” and “All That Jazz.”

July 20-30. 7:30 p.m. $6-$9. Max Palevsky Theatre at the Aero Theatre, 1328 Montana Ave., Santa Monica. (323) 466-3456

Friday, July 21
Gay Men’s Choruses of Los Angeles and Orange County each put on worthy shows this week. On Saturday, July 15, head to the O.C. for Men Alive’s fifth anniversary concert, “Curtains Up! Light the Lights!” The song and dance tribute to Broadway will feature special guest star and Grammy nominee Michael Feinstein. And this weekend, stay local as the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles presents “The Look of Love: The Music of Burt Bacharach.”

“Curtains Up! Light the Lights!” Sat., July 15, 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. The Irvine Barclay Theatre, 424 Campus Drive, Irvine. (866) 636-2548. ” target=”_blank”>

Ding Dong! Rabbi Calling

His turn on is making single Jewish women laugh. His hometown is Jewtown, Calif. He puts his age at 99 (although he looks at least 50 years younger). His occupation is comedian/dancer/male model — and rabbi. Yes, the tzitzit-wearing, black-bearded Rabbi Rabbs (a.k.a. Hershel Remer) is in a class by himself.

Rabbs (as he likes to be called) is the uber-Jewish component of Don Barris’ wild and wacky pseudo-reality “The Ding-Dong Show” Monday nights at The Comedy Store on the Sunset Strip. Rabbs, who doesn’t perform if the show falls on a Jewish holiday, lovingly refers to the outrageous cast as “a bunch of degenerate gentiles — all verifiably nuts. It’s a show about crazy people who are comedians — what could be funnier?”

The unique “major goyisheh comedy show,” as Rabbs calls it on his My Space Web site, was the perfect setting for the Jewish day school (YULA) and UCLA alum who spent eight years with the Orthodox Union’s West Coast kashrut division before finding his calling. (He also has a sideline working as a UNIX computer specialist.)

“I was born a comedian,” said Rabbs, who joined the show in 2001 and refers to himself as “America’s Favorite Rabbi Comic.” “My mother says I was funny before I could talk.”

Rabbs started signing up for amateur nights at The Comedy Store before meeting owner Mitzi Shore, who eventually booked him in regular shows and finally as a “Ding-Dong” cast member.

“I didn’t even know what I was doing there for a full year,” said Rabbs, who with the 11 other members of the “Ding-Dong Show” cast is currently shooting a follow-up to the 2003 comedy, “Windy City Heat,” which featured host Barris. “There are two things that make me different from the cast: One, no member of my family has ever been put in jail, and two, I am not on any psychiatric medications.”

Rabbs’ distinctive sense of humor shines on the show’s Web site, which offers background on each “actor,” and includes a message board forum called, “Ask the Rabbi Rabbs,” and a thread that Rabbs started earlier this year on “Which chick digs Rabbi Rabbs the most?” (He has several die-hard female followers.)

But there is a serious side to that thread: Rabbs is looking for a “rebbetzin” (rabbi’s wife), a search that takes on a greater meaning around Passover.

“I have learned the hard way that Judaism is a religion designed for married people and extremely difficult to be successful at while single,” said Rabbs, who’s looking for “a Jewish woman who doesn’t just want me for my money or my muscular body.”

“The Ding-Dong Show,” Mondays, 9:30 p.m., The Comedy Store.

For more information, visit ” target=”_blank”>


Inside Shelley Berman, Again

Shelley Berman is 80 years old and hot, hot, hot. When he cups his hand over the phone and yells to his wife: “Where am I this week, Sarah?” he’s not having a senior moment. Fresh from playing Larry David’s father on the HBO series, “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” he’s got bookings in Las Vegas, feature film shoots and network television tapings on top of his regular slate of teaching classes at USC. Shelley’s current schedule would kill a person half his age, which is why, at 44, I’m functioning as his occasional producer, acolyte and coffee bringer (“Last time someone brought me hazelnut — can’t a person get an honest cup of coffee any more?”) at 24th Street Theatre, where we’re in the middle of a live Shelley Berman minifestival. (His next solo performance of classic monologues will be March 24.)

I’ve long been a fan of Shelley Berman. Although not a Jew myself, I’ve been granted cross-cultural permission to write a Shelley Berman report for The Jewish Journal, as we Asian Americans don’t have quite the comedic lineage of the Jews. But surely you can spare us a piece of your cultural history — for how many Christmases have you been eating our food? Ba-dump-bump.

That quasi-joke I just bumblingly attempted — that’s what Shelley calls: “In Yiddish, a shtick. Which means a hunk, or a piece.” He told me, “We don’t know what comedy is, we really don’t. I try to teach it to young people today, not how to be funny, but how to write it, how to think it, how to put it together. And it’s very hard. There’s that marvelous saying, ‘Dying is easy, comedy is hard.'”

Because of Shelley’s love of teaching, we decide that on his first evening at 24th Street he’ll give his lecture: “Comedy and Its Reflections in History.” Such is the appetite to see Shelley live that without publicity, on a rainy Friday night in downtown, our theater is packed beyond capacity — just how far beyond remains between us and the Fire Department. Whereas at some points in his career the comedian has been rumored to be “difficult,” “Shelley 2006” is the soul of wonderful manners, sartorial elegance and cheerful professionalism. (Although we don’t mess around with the coffee — we actually have it brought in.)

Of course, that doesn’t mean that once on stage Shelley won’t fashion the circumstances of the evening into, well, a shtick. After my slavishly fawning introduction, Shelley comes out to a standing O. He waves the audience back down in their seats, looking half-pleased, half-pained. “Thank you … what’s her name. Your introduction was … long. Thank you for inviting me to this… this….” He looks around the small theater helplessly. His voice trails off. Gloomily, he drops his head in his hands. The audience screams.

Further, while Shelley’s famously not a fan of ringing phones, in a cruel twist of fate (as a producer, the phrase “bowels turn to ice” comes to mind), during Shelley’s performance not one — but three — cellphones go off. Three! (Including one whose owner left the building 24 hours ago.) But even here he finds humor. Removing the cell phone from one young man, he says: “I’ll hold it for you. To get it back later, all you have to do is kiss me… ” Long cross back to stage… “Some place.”

Once again, screams.

His audience firmly in thrall, Shelley now embarks on a trip fantastic through Western history. Sometimes with erudition: “Comedy comes from the Greek ‘komos,’ to travel. In that particular period, you knew that comedians had to travel. They weren’t going to stay around in that town that night after what they had done!”

Sometimes with quick irreverence: “I’m very good at talking about the Renaissance because I know so little about it.”

Then sometimes the two together. At one point, when laughter swells into applause, Shelley begins to conduct us. Hands up — applause! Hands down — silence. Hands up — applause! Hands down — silence. He takes a beat, leans forward, confides: “Isn’t it frightening how easily a man can become a leader? Now all I have to do now is learn how to pronounce ‘nu-cu-lar.’ Don’t get me wrong. I’m very proud of our two political parties, the Democrats and the Christians.”


The theme Shelley keeps returning to is how, time and time again, the best comedy illuminates the human condition at that particular historical time: “In the early 1920s, when there was serious hunger in this country, Charles Spencer Chaplin went to the Yukon. But for the hungry, Charles Chaplin ate a shoe. He cooked that shoe with love and anticipation. And when he ate it, he got all of the meat off the nails, as we do with chicken bones. He made a nation feel better. He made a nation laugh at his hunger.”

When Shelley, to his terror, was forced to enlist into the Army, it was Danny Kaye who lent comfort, finding outrageous humor in the indignity of Army medical exams. And there’ve been others, so many others; Shelley’s passion to speak the great names of comedy aloud becomes almost an aria: Mack Sennett, Harry Langdon, Fatty Arbuckle, Mabel Normand, Buster Keaton, Eddie Cantor, Fannie Brice, Milton Berle, Jackie Miles, Jack Benny, George and Gracie, Henny Youngman, Shecky Green, Lucille Ball, Phyllis Diller, Steve Allen, Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Lily Tomlin, Carol Burnett, Jackie Mason, Larry Gelbart, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Mort Sahl, Lenny Bruce….

As a monologue writer myself, what struck me, particularly in Shelley’s descriptions of Jewish comedians, was the incredible precision of comedic rhythm. Consider Lou Holz –“a stand-up comedian, a raconteur, a storyteller, who wore a beautiful suit and carried a walking stick. Oh, he was natty as could be. The main character in all his jokes was a fellow by the name of Sam Lapides….”

You don’t have to be Jewish to tell this joke, but that DNA would help:

“So, Sam Lapides goes to the grocery. He says to the grocer, ‘Do you have salt?’ The grocer says: ‘Do I have salt? Do I have salt? Come here, take a look behind the counter here, see? Look at this. Bag salt. Box salt. See that salt? Over here? Canned salt…. Come on downstairs — I show you something….’ They go downstairs. He says: ‘Look. Look on these walls. Canned salt. Bagged salt. Good salt. Everywhere you look — salt.’ And Sam Lapides says, ‘I’m very impressed. But are you going to be able to sell all this salt?’ And the grocer says, ‘Me? I can’t sell salt. But the guy who sells me salt, oh can he sell…!'”

Here’s another joke with cadences so exact it’s akin to a minihaiku, or like one of those little Carl Sandburg epigraphs. You can almost diagram it. I’ve laid it out on the page for you to replicate the way Shelley told it:

Guy tells a doctor, “I can’t pee.”

The doctor says:

“How old are you?”

“I’m 87,” says the guy,

doctor says,

“You’ve peed enough.”

Shelley can also tell a killer Irish Catholic joke, if unprintable in a family newspaper. And of course ever the master artist, Shelley celebrates humor no matter from what tribe it emanates.

“There was a kid, I swear to God…. I saw the first movie, the first movie he ever did? He was so new, so fresh. A lot of Jews had dominated this field for a long time. And suddenly, there he was — the goyim! A non-Jew! Who’s funny! If you’ve never seen Red Skelton, you never saw funny! Oh my God, there was one wonderful thing he did — he did this routine where he’s cross-eyed, and he’s dunking doughnuts in the other guy’s coffee…!”

Bob Hope, though? Not so much.

“He never said anything cogent — never. ‘Road to Rio’?” Shelley opens his hands. “What was that?” None of us know. We are OK, this evening, leaving Mr. Hope — and all the world’s ringing cellphones — to fend for themselves.

It’s true that Shelley believes comedy today is in a fallow time. When the Vietnam War ended, he feels the comedic habit of anger and bad language remained, even as the underpinning of righteous indignation disappeared.

Says he: “There’s a lot of cruelty in our comedy today. We’ve got to find someone to give it to.”

One bright exception? “Larry David. A guy who has made himself the butt of every joke he’s ever done. Who is Harry Langdon? Who is Fatty Arbuckle? Who is Edgar Kennedy of old times? Larry David creates a character who is “Everyman’s Schmuck.” Every time we’re laughing we’re seeing ourselves in that guy. It’s the most therapeutic, wonderful humor I’ve ever seen.”

So as the evening ends “up” and, to a final standing O, Shelley admits: “I love to teach. I’d like to become everybody’s rabbi.”

Shelley Berman will perform a selection of his original comedic monologues on March 24 at 8 p.m. at the 24th Street Theatre, 1117 W. 24th St., Los Angeles. $25 (general), $15 (teachers, students and seniors). For tickets, call (800) 838-3006.

Radio personality, author and monologist Sandra Tsing Loh’s solo show, “Mother on Fire,” runs through April 9, at 8 p.m. (Saturdays) and 3 p.m. (Sundays) at the 24th Street Theatre.