Today I’m going to cartoon as usual – but I’ve spent the morning being a domocidal maniac. Cleaning and washing and such – and I’m also going to repair a quilt. Our quilt collection gets a lot of usage, and I confess I’m intimidated. I don’t have nearly my mom’s or my grandmoms’ amazing abilities with a needle and thread – but I’m fortunate to have these works of art and comfort in my life.

BTW, my mom is an excellent painter, too, in addition to being able to sew just about anything . . . and she always encouraged me in my artwork.

I’m thankful for all kinds of art – and all kinds of creativity . . . and today I’m particularly inspired by my Mom, Granny Jean, and Grandmomma . . . love to y’all. To Mom in Florida, and to my Grandmothers in heaven. I like to think that in heaven you don’t have to work, but I sure would like more quilts and some of their biscuits and fried chicken right about now . . .

Ha! And, BACK TO FOOD

PEACE AND HAPPY FRIDAY!!

trl

(will add quilt photo later – see my Twitter account (@LaughingRedhead) for today’s pic. Uploading is muy dificil today for some reason!)

You know sometimes when you hear that movie quote “LOVE means never having to say you’re sorry,” and you think, well that’s a crock o’ crap?

That’s how I feel when I hear people say, “No regrets,” meaning, I presume that they don’t regret, or allow themselves to think about regretting, ANYTHING. Which would be either, that they have delusions of perfection, or that they are totally in denial. Though, I’m sure I could use summa dat denial stuff, now and then. Like I’d like to forget about posting that Calista-Gingrich-has-woman-arrested-for-breastfeeding-in-public article, only to find out that it totally wasn’t true. That is totally what I get for breaking my never-talk-about-the-candidate’s-family-members-unless-it’s-Todd-Palin rule. (Because, I mean, how can you NOT?)

Anyway, not to be sidetracked by my temporary dopiness, (hey, that IS a word!), THIS post is about regretting not having said or done certain things. When you lose a friend or family member, and you wonder what you could have done or said that would have made everything better . . . made things easier for that person in their last days, communicated how you felt and how much you truly loved them  and were glad they were in your lives. I think the best we can do in this life is to make sure we are more OPEN than CLOSED.

It causes a lot of embarrassment, of course. Exposing yourself in certain ways can cost you.

But I remember when I decided to leave my job as an artist/writer at Hallmark – it was tough. I got to write and paint all day, and had lots of cool friends! But, I knew if I didn’t leave to learn the craft of comedy, I would always look back and be sorry. I never wanted to get to my death-bed and be worrying about myself in that way.

I probably won’t die by something like parachuting out of a plane, it will be something stupid like “She fell off her platform shoes into a tub of water while holding a plugged-in radio,” or “She drank her turpentine instead of her Diet Coke while painting her last masterpiece,” which, btw, is something I’ve actually done. Yes, I once drank a sip of turpentine by accident instead of my Diet Coke. Not much, obviously . . . I’m still here. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.) Also, now, I keep the turpentine v. far away from my beverage while I work. Also, I’ve switched to acrylics, so now it’s just murky water tempting me.

Anywayz, I want to be more like Oscar Wilde and say something like (slight misquote): “Either that wallpaper goes, or I do.”

Try to achieve great things, fail a lot, make fool of yourself, achieve some stuff, love your family and friends, (and your ENEMIES, too, if you are VERY evolved, like Jesus), and laugh a lot along the way.

Allrighty, then.

No regrets.

peace,

trl

p.s. – In tagging this latest post, the auto-fill jumped in when I typed “Jesus,” and tried to fill in “Jerry Lewis.” That was jarring.

Now, I don’t have actual experience rowing or picking cotton, but my parents grew up picking cotton in Mississippi. I remember countless times driving to see my grandfolks, and seeing miles and miles of cotton fields on the way. I thought they were beautiful, and I pretended they were snow, because we didn’t get much of that. But, I’ve never had to pick cotton. The only bolls I ever picked, were ones my parents let me pick so I could see what it felt like – sorta.

So, this tiny little description of picking cotton is just from what my mom and dad have told me about it.

It’s tough to hoe, and tough to pick. It tears up your fingers, because of the thorny husk on the outside of that fluffy tuft of fiber.

It’s beautiful, but it tears your fingers apart to get to it.

Cotton picking is grueling, to say the least. (My mom refused to see the movie, “Places In The Heart,” because, as she said, “Why would I want to see that? I lived it! I’m not going to see a movie about picking cotton.” )

Comedy isn’t pretty. It’s definitely tougher for some than others.

But, in the end, it’s showbiz.

It’s never going to be “fair.”

It will probably be very, very, deeply painful. And then, more awesome than you ever imagined. And then really painful again.

Are you IN, or are you OUT?

Comedy is tough for ALL of us . . . but it’s very worth the blood, sweat, and tears.

Encouraging us all to hang in there, y’all.

Let’s enjoy the loud laughs, roll with the gut punches of the tougher times, and celebrate the fact that we get to do what we love to do.

peace, trl

My Ire has been raised. Or it’s my Scottish, or that streak of Mississippi Cherokee. Whut whut.

Today, I’d just like to give a shout out to Judd Apatow, thank-you for saying “f***-you” to Jerry Lewis for his misogynist comments at the Aspen Comedy Festival in 1998 (one I happened to be attending – that was such a freakin’ fun festival!) I didn’t hear Jerry’s comments, which is good, because being raised Baptist, I fully believe in shouting out and “Amening” and saying “Preach it” or “unh-unh” (and loudly) depending on whether I agree or disagree with things. I also am known (you can ask almost every actor at the Denver Center Theatre Company) for LOUDLY laughing at funny stuff. That also goes for every single thing I find ridiculous. I LAUGH. OUT. LOUD. I smirk, I sneer, I snark. I do not hide my feelings. See that happy face? Makes me happy to say that. Affirm that. Preach that.

This inability to hide my feelings may be why I got laid off three jobs in three years- (okay-it-definitely-was) but I digress.

I’m one of those people who HAS to make my living being funny, because I don’t really fit in with anything else. All good. I’ve been making my living at humor for 20+ years. Suh-nap.

Anyway, I read this morning in the HuffPost on my iPhone (what a cliché!) but that’s what I did, anywayz. And there in the Entertainment section is Judd Apatow calling out Jerry Lewis on his nasty comments . . . and it gave me the warm fuzzies. I even Tweeted a THANK-YOU to him. Not like he cares, but some Tweets give you more satisfaction than others.

I see some people are pounding him for doing that. They are wrong. There, I said it.

Jerry Lewis, one of the most successful comics of all time, (and I’m not even counting FRANCE!) takes the opportunity of a panel discussion (or was he getting an award? who cares?) at one of the most fun and diverse comedy thingies I’ve ever been to, to verbally assail women comics.

He later apologized, you may say . . .

YES, HE DID!! It was something like “well, I’m sorry, ummm, I guess, Ummmmmmmm, Lucy WAS funny.” Thank you! Such insight!! Admitting Lucille Ball was funny is like  saying Matisse was good with color. Genius! Pure Genius! Lame-ass apology NOT accepted. Not that he cares, or should care. But, he’s the definition of a bully.

I won’t venture to try and shut him up, just to call him out – because, we have free speech. And I want Jerry to spill what he wants, because he’s a comic, and I hate it when people try to tamp down free (especially comedy) speech. But, I get to call him a jerkweed, don’t I?

I won’t bore you with my road stories (well, not at the moment), and I won’t name you the hilarious women I’ve worked with and their stories (yet) and I won’t name the comedy club chains (and churches, for that matter, in this new age of the show-biz-church) who not-so-behind-the-scenes make it known that they won’t book women, because,  they “think” (using the term loosely) – and now say it with me, that “Women Aren’t Funny.” That, or it makes them nervous to see a woman with power. And, a mic gives you power. I wuv it.

I’m not bitter, I’m just human. This is piss-poor behavior, and is nearly making me cuss. Albeit badly. Oh, and someone recently said in the New York Times that women comics aren’t “ladylike.” Is that a goal? What does that even mean? Parasols? Explain it to me. And Christopher Hitchens (who I loved, too), wrote a VF article and posited that men are intimidated by women because we can have babies, and so they don’t want us to be funny, too, it’s just too much power. Or something like that. He said it so much better, but I still thought that seemed bee-zarre.

I can name you a lot of femme comics who rock the stage and cartoonists and screenwriters who rock the page – Elayne Boosler, Wendy Liebman, Kathleen Madigan, T. Marni Vos,  Roz Chast, Lynda Barry, Cheryl Holliday, Kristen Wiig, Sherri Shepherd, Melissa McCarthy, Gilda Radner, Laraine Newman, Mo Collins spring to mind immediately. This, off the top of my head, Jerry Lewis. Maybe he just needs to broaden his horizons, heh heh. Get it? Ok, that WASN’T  so funny.

And plenty of men, too! I’m cool like that. I LIKE IT WHEN MEN ARE FUNNY. It doesn’t threaten me. I don’t have to diss them. I think it’s AWESOME. I love being around them, laughing with them, and I like it when they laugh at me, too – cool how that works, huh?! A friend of mine (Dennis Regan- HY-larious) was on Letterman Friday night – so I Tweeted, Facebooked, cheered, and my hubby and I sat and laughed our butts off. Didn’t bother me at all that he’s a guy. It’s easier than you think, Jerry.

And I love women comics, cartoonists, screenwriters, humorists of all sorts. We fight a brick ceiling (is that good? I dunno, I was thinking GLASS ceiling, but then comedy clubs hardly every have any glass, except for the kind you drink from and- ) Anyway.  I luh-uh-uve the sisterhood. And the brotherhood. The comic-hood.

Blanket statements like “women aren’t funny” suck the biggest wind, is I guess alls I wanna say. Oh, and also that I’m sorry Jerry Lewis just doesn’t get it. Comedy “legends” bullying others sucks big wind, too. Comedy is tough enough without that kinda crap. But you know what?! I’m in. In spite of it all, I love making people laugh – and so we continue – all of us – comics – men, women, everyone.

Preach it, Judd Apatow.

High-fivin’ you in the air, here on the East Coast.

peace, luv, and other things hippies say,

trl