What Really Happened To Mimi?

By all eyewitness accounts it was a horrible accident. Mimi was putting her gym bag in the back seat of her car. She wasn't on the sidewalk, but in the street, on the driver's side. Whether she saw the car or not, no one is sure. But he slammed into her going about 35 miles per hour and she became airborne. Later, the doctors would say she was dead the moment she landed on her head. But those of us who knew her thought she'd really died long before; this was just the physical death.

They'd divorced 5 years earlier. Unhappy, Mimi became more distraught when her ex-husband remarried. As her unhappiness grew, her son went to live with his father while the daughter stayed with her. Then her ex stopped paying alimony 2 years ago, adding to her anguish. Her own mother told her she was tired of hearing her complain about her problems.

Mimi started telling everyone that she'd be better off dead. And that "they" would pay for it.

As I regularly updated the story on Twitter, Mimi was declared brain dead and her body was MRI'd in preparation for organ donation. Her parents lost a son in a terrible accident years ago, and now a daughter was dying from another tragic accident. Doctors waited to terminate Mimi's life until her parents arrived from Iran. I can't imagine what that conversation was like.

The last time I saw Mimi was at the big surprise birthday party my sister threw for our mom back in December. When she found out about the party she asked Lindy what she could do to help and to give her a list of errands she'd be happy to run for her. She gave mom a lovely crystal bowl.

The point of this post is me harping on something I warn people about all the time. BE CAREFUL OF YOUR WORDS. "Thoughts become things" and "what you think about you bring about" are mantras for me. People who say they have bad luck? Usually do. People who say they get a cold every winter? Get a cold every winter.

Mimi said she'd be better off dead. And as to the second part of her sentence, "they will pay for it" Mimi's ex-husband will now have to take financial care of their two children, both in their 20's, for the rest of their lives. We don't know for sure but there will probably be a massive lawsuit against the man who hit her. And what was his profession?

Doctor.

Memorial Day For My Dad

The caisson carrying my Dad's ashes into Arlington Cemetery, Washington D.C.

R.I.P. Ken Ober

Two days ago, a comic, the host of MTV's once insane show Remote Control, died at 52. Ken Ober was always funny and the first of our NY group to make it out to Hollywood and get a show. No one was surprised because he was fast on his feet and turned adlibbing into an art form. I knew him from the club scene in NY and the last time I saw him was at The Comedy Awards here in Hollywood. He was always nice and not one of those comics who took himself or his good fortune too seriously. He was kind to everyone.

He complained of headaches, chest pains and flu-like symptoms. These are things that always freak me out when I read them. How many times have any of us had symptoms and brushed them off?

My theory that female comics have more testosterone than normal women makes me act like a man and not want to go to the doctor. I'm sure there are some men who gallop to the internist but in general, they're not the first ones in the waiting room. And if you're one of those men, great. The rest of you? Please don't write me.

Of course I also believe that when it's your time to go, it's your time to go. I'll quote Woody Allen here, "I'm not afraid of dying. I just don't want to be there when it happens."

The Michael Jackson Memorial

My earliest Jackson memory was that he was, in the first part of his solo career, referred to as the Prince of Pop in the press. He wondered why he couldn't be the King of Pop, which was considered musical blasphemy since the only "King" then was Elvis. But over time Michael became The King of Pop. Either that or Prince the singer was all, "Yeah, I don't THINK so. Get your own fucking name."

This is not a happy peppy review because I don't do happy peppy. This is wonderment how addicts like Elvis, Heath Ledger, Chris Farley, John Belushi and Michael Jackson get deified in the face of all the people who loved them and turned a blind eye to their addictions. But as an addict myself I know one thing, the only person who could stop me was me.

I have no idea how they pulled this memorial off. It was a testament to the Jackson Family's attention to detail and perfection that created the Jackson 5 in the first place. This family was driven and disciplined and it accounts for their enormous fame. And pain.

But the event was over-staged to clearly allow Michael's memory to resonate in a positive way. LA shut down FREEWAYS and we usually only do that for white Ford Broncos. We are, after all, the second largest city in the United States.

There was a plea couched in a speech from one of America's most loved athletes, Magic Johnson, who told a very funny story about having dinner with Michael. But then he went on to mention the aunts, uncles and cousins the 3 Jackson children will now have to play with, the subtext telegraphing that Michael's children belong with Jackson's mother. They know full well that California law will likely give the children to their bio Mom unless they can prove Debbie Rowe is unfit.

The only thing Reverend Al I'mAlwaysScreamingAtSomeone Sharpton did was screech about Michael changing the rules for black people on MTV. Fine, but dude, dial it back an octave. And Lionel Richie, pack it in. I can't look at that mustache for one more minute. And John Token White Guy Mayer, your 15 minutes was up 2 years ago. Mariah, stop already with the hand gestures and the boobs falling out at a memorial. We're seen them. Many many many many many times.

A Democrat from the House of Representatives was called to the podium and emphasized that in the U.S., you are innocent until proven guilty. Talk about out of left field. Brooke Shield's speech was lovely and touching but highlighted that the PRESS GOT IT WRONG about her and Michael's relationship. As in, "everything you've ever heard about Michael has been wrong."

I tend to be cynical about things that don't seem to originate directly from the heart but come with an agenda. I know they miss their brother and son and I'm not saying they didn't love him, but this was a commercial. A positive spin on what the future should hold for these 3 children. No one knows who Blanket's mother is. Are you fucking kidding me? AND STOP CALLING HIM BLANKET.

The last vision of Michael's daughter Paris crying, saying her Daddy was the best Daddy in the world and that we had no idea how great he was as a parent was a questionable decision and Janet Jackson hustled her off stage immediately afterwards. People blasted Sarah Palin for parading her Down Syndrome child before the RNC and only time and reviews will decide if allowing Paris Jackson to speak had the same effect on people. I've been watching TV all day and they've repeated this little girl crying over and over and over. The exploitation is ironic in that Michael never allowed them to be used by the media. We didn't even know what they looked like.

I watched the NBC special on Dateline and one of the saddest things was Martin Bashir saying as Michael was growing up and realizing he was starting to resemble his father, the father who beat him constantly, that's when he started the skin bleaching and excessive plastic surgery. If you look like your abuser, you don't need to see That Man in The Mirror every day. Michael once said, in an interview years ago, that it's not IF a parent loves a child, it's how that child remembers that love. That seems to sum up what happened to Michael. He didn't remember his childhood with a lot of love.

This is what I will take from his life and leave the rest to karma. In a one hour interview on a radio program, Michael said, "If you're surrounded by negative people, get rid of them. You can never succeed with them around. What you think is what you become."

That is good advice, no matter who he really was. R.I.P. Michael.

R.I.P. Michael, Farrah, Ed And Governor Who?

I don't care if Governors cheat on their wives. Arnold Schwarzenegger has been doing it for well over 20 years before our great state of California ELECTED HIM GOVERNOR. TWICE. It's apparently a prerequisite out here.

I suspose if you were a huge fan of the 70's and 80's, yesterday was a big loss for you. I wrote recently about seeing Farrah. I was at the Improv on Melrose uselessly sucking up to anyone over the age of 16. She didn't look right but was surrounded by a coterie of young comics and tourists. She was graciously signing autographs and taking pictures with everyone. I, for once, stayed away from her because she looked melancholy. Something seemed off. I found out later that was the time frame she was diagnosed with cancer.

If you saw the shameless View yesterday morning, you heard Baba Wawa pimping out her special on Farrah Fawcett-almost-O'Neal. She mentioned 3 times they moved it up a day because they announced that Farrah was hours from death. My heart was beating so fast. THANK GOD I FINALLY WATCHED THE VIEW TODAY.

So when Michael Jackson died, all I could think about was Barbara pulling out the hair under her wig knowing she'd been officially wiped off the news. They're mentioning it out here every 5 minutes of every hour on Jackson. If you look closely at the footage on Michael, you can see the kerchief in front of his face hides the loss of his nose, which collapsed long ago and finally could not be fixed. He wore a custom made nose plate and wore the kerchief to hide it. There are still some side shots where the plate gapes over the nose and you can see it. It looks like a nose eave.

It's terrible and cheap to talk about Jackson's plastic surgery but hello, have you met me?

Thriller, still best album and video ever. RIP Jacko. Little boys everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief.

RIP Ed McMahon. I did Starsearch with Ed. Mr. McMahon was a large man. Tall and broad and just, big. The only time you got to see him was when they were lining up the two finalists for possible national humiliation. So there I was, standing next to X Comic (I got in trouble with my buddy Ron the last time I mentioned and trashed this comic's win so I'll leave out his name) and Ed announced our scores. I got 3 and a quarter stars and X comic got 3 and 3 quarters stars. If you watch the tape, you see me stand there a second trying to remember fractions. I cannot. Ed gently moved me along. I was mortified.

And just to prove to you all those shows are rigged, my Dad said to me later, "How could that guy have won over you? "

Apparently the editors agreed with my Dad because when I received a copy of the tape, they had removed my biggest joke, the one that got an applause break, another joke and cut my overall time down by 60 seconds. Obviously if they had felt that K.A. really should have won, they would have left all my stuff intact. They edited me out to make Mr. Apio look better.

So again, heartfelt good wishes and best ever to Kermit Apio.

And my final thought. If one more person refers to a dead person with "He's in a better place right now" I would just like to respond with.

How do you know? Have you been there? Fool.

End of chat.

RIP George Carlin

I only met Carlin once. We were both appearing at Bally's in Las Vegas. He was in the showroom; I was at the comedy club Catch A Rising Star.

I had just moved from New York City to Los Angeles in the hopes of pursuing a bigger career than New York offered. I had agents and an apartment by the Hollywood sign and I felt I was on the right track. One of my first gigs was in Las Vegas; how horrible could life be?

Driving into Vegas and seeing Carlin's name on the marquee at Bally's and knowing I was going to be in the same place, doing the same thing made it seem like I had moved for all the right reasons. I immediately wrote him a note saying I was at Catch and that I wanted to see his show. I dropped it off at reception and wondered whether George would get it. He did and called me in my room to ask how many tickets I needed because it was Valentine's Day. He assumed I needed two. I had just started dating The Impotentate (GET OUT. RUN AWAY. YOU'RE GOING TO WASTE 7 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE WITH HIM.) but left him back in L.A. It was my first time playing Vegas and if I went down in flames I didn't need him to see that. So I asked George for one ticket and a fire extinguisher.

The first note pinned on the yellow sheet below is the message the operators at Catch A Rising Star took from George telling me to be at his 9 pm show. You know I'm the Queen of the Qeepsakes so I have this hanging in my Hall of Fame. You can't see it in this photo but it hangs down on the left, under the Muscle and Fitness magazine with my sister on the cover.
Valentine's Day in Vegas couldn't be more annoying if it tried. People running around all in love and shit and strangers looking at you with sad eyes because OMG you're alone! But I didn't care because I couldn't wait to see the guy that all comics put in their top 5 of best standups ever. If you don't get that, chances are you might not understand what makes great comedy. It's hard to explain if you're not in the business of making people laugh. You're just going to have to trust me and every other comic on the planet on this one. Can 20,000 of us be wrong? Uhhh. No.

Standing on a stage for over an hour trying to hustle an audience into laughing is not for the weak. It's so difficult that sometimes I look back on my younger self and wonder what convinced me that I could tackle such a job. How did I believe I had the wherewithal to make an audience love me? Or make them laugh or require them to think? Few of us will ever attain the rank of making an audience think. That requires enormous skill and I'd be the first to admit that I can't do it. I'm not that gifted. But Carlin had it in spades. Imagine trying to talk about religion, as George did in his bit on the Ten Commandments, and yet point out how ridiculous those Ten Commandments were. Who makes fun of that and wins? George. Because he was a master of comedy. My friend and fellow comic Matt Davis sent me an email that really summed up George's genius. He was a maestro with his words. He would start a premise or a story and he would zig and zag and weave and go off onto several different tangents (all of which were relevant and hilarious), and he would always come back and join it all together 10 or 20 minutes later and tie the end piece with a bow. It was amazing. It made me want to write more jokes and quit comedy forever at the same time.

That's really the hallmark of great anything. That it makes you want to do it better and yet quit because you don't think you'll ever be as good at it as the ones you admire the most. Comics can make a room full of strangers laugh. We don't know if it will work every time, and sometimes it doesn't, but we do know that most people can't do it and for some reason, that's why we keep doing it. And most of us hope we're one hundredth as good as Carlin. And know we're not.

The next night there was a message from George. "Want to know if you saw the show." I've had boyfriends who have dropped me off in front of my building and haven't waited to see if I made it inside alive. I have relatives who assume I'm dead because they never call. George was a real class act. And p.s., how many comics have you seen remain successful through their 60's and on until their 70's? Newhart. Cosby. Rivers. Carson. Believe me, we should all be so lucky.

Those of you who read me on a regular basis know I struggle with what I did with my life but when Carlin died I realized I'm grateful that I chose to be a comic, no matter how difficult the road. I remember once when my career was in the toilet and I didn't know what was going to happen to me and I called my Dad. I told him I had wasted my time flying around the world doing comedy and what did it bring me? And my Dad said "You made a lot of people laugh. Not many people can say that about their lives." And over the years I realized how right he was. Making people laugh is a lucky gift to have. It also reminds me of what The Laugh Factory here in L.A. puts up on their marquee when a comic dies. RIP George Carlin. Make God laugh. So if I can do that one day when I'm long gone and forgotten down here, make God laugh? Well, there will be no regrets. Except for this one: GET THIS CAST OFF MY FUCKING FOOT.

Another great comedian died the same day as Carlin but at 93, her heyday had come and gone. Dody Goodman was in both the Grease movies and played the mother in the hilarious sitcom Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman. But more importantly, she was a Johnny Carson and Jack Paar fave. And if those two guys didn't know great comedy, no one did. Dody also did Broadway in her later years. I came across this quote from the producer of one of her shows about her prowess on the New York stage:

"Dody had the most impeccable comic timing," Goggin said. "When we had her in the show Nunsense, she was the only person on Earth who could walk on stage and say, 'Are you ready to start?' and bring the house down."

It's all about timing in comedy. If you think you're funny, try saying that line when you walk into a room. Good luck with the crickets.

R.I.P. George. And Dody. We'll miss you.

George Carlin Dody Goodman Grease Jack Paar

RIP Dad

My Dad is buried at Arlington Cemetery so I hope someone walked by his grave today and said 'Thanks.'














2001 - Dad's ashes being carried into Arlington by the caisson.

RIP Phil and Brynn

At the Comedy Awards with two of my favorite people

The Richard Jeni Hollywood Memorial

I know I’m prejudiced here but honestly, there is nothing better than a room full of comedians. Especially when they’re paying tribute to one of their own. A fallen one.

This Saturday, comics filed in to the invitation-only memorial for Richard Jeni held at The Laugh Factory in Hollywood. Some of the biggest names in our industry got up, one after another, and paid homage to Richard. Jay Leno, Tim Allen, Paul Rodriguez, Elayne Boosler and Larry Miller brought the house down with their remembrances of this quirky and brilliant standup. Two fashionistas check the list at The Laugh Factory

Jay Leno said that Rich would tell him that he was doing a new HBO special and that he was going home to write the new hour. To which Jay remarked that most comics couldn’t steal an hour, much less write it before a special.

Ritch Shydner described how committed to joke writing Jeni was. He said most comics will do a line or two about something like alarm clocks. Then they move on to a new topic. And like lions, the comedians in the back of the room are ripping the comic’s bit apart, seizing on the parts of the topic that weren’t covered, like the meat left on a carcass. He didn’t discuss the snooze button! or He should have talked about digital clocks! But he said that when Rich Jeni did a joke on any topic, there was nothing left but bones.

Rodriguez recalled a story of when he and Richard were playing a prison. “Rodriguez, what kind of material do these guys like?” Richard asked.
“How would I know, why are you asking me that?”
“Because there’s a lot of you people in here.”

Emceed by the affable Tom Dreesen, Sinatra’s opening act up until the day Frank died, he kept the show moving and the laughs coming. People didn’t speak for long, until Paul Provenza got to the podium. Paul was the guy who took over for Rob Morrow when Morrow left Northern Exposure and is a gifted comedian in his own right. Paul went long, as we say in standup. None of us really noticed or cared, but someone gave him the light, the red one that signals to the comic to get off stage. Those of us sitting in the back couldn’t believe someone - and by someone I’m guessing Jamie Masada, owner of The Laugh Factory - would give anyone the light at a memorial. I tapped Boosler on the shoulder.
“They gave Paul the light,” I whispered.
“I know, is there a show after this? Is another funeral coming in?”

And then there was the drama that is Richard Lewis. Sixteen people were scheduled to speak and after about the fourth person, Richard got up from his seat in the back, walked towards the front of the room and, expecting his name to be called, was surprised when Tom Dreesen announced someone else’s name. Richard walked back to his seat. This happens to comics all the time and is usually not a big deal. Then it happened again and again and Richard finally heckled Dreesen into letting him on. He took the stage and said that in his entire career he had never been bumped three times and at a memorial.

Even guys who didn’t speak, like Ray Romano, and guys who shouldn’t have spoken, like Dane Cook, and guys who mystified the audience with their speaking, like Fred Travalena, still all had one thing in mind. They were all there for Richard Jeni.

Richard’s girlfriend Amy spoke through tears about how grateful she was to see all the comics who had come out to pay tribute. Rich’s brother Joe was so moved by the show of support that my heart broke for him and his family.

A short film was shown of Jeni’s standup and his early home life. Then there was a reception upstairs with tons of great food. There were two walls devoted to pictures of Richard, one of his career and one of his personal life. On the tables where the food was laid out were oil cloth table coverings with pictures of friends of Richard, Richard’s family and career embedded in the tablecloth. It was obviously custom-made and showed the attention to detail that HBO gave to this event. From the speech by President and CEO Chris Albrecht to the fact that HBO picked up the entire tab, including the valet parking, it was a class act from start to finish.

Carol Leifer spoke for us all. Struggling against her tears she said that comics are a great fraternity, one that she was proud to belong to, and that she would always love comics just a little bit more than she loved other people. Yeah, me too Carol.

End of chat.

RIP Richard Jeni

Richard Jeni, one of the funniest standups in the comedy world, was rushed to the hospital Saturday night after his girlfriend called police to say her boyfriend had shot himself. He died at a hospital in Hollywood.

He was one of those comics that all other comics went into the room to watch when he was on stage. There is no greater compliment a standup can pay another one than to do that. He was a great performer and a terrific writer and just a really funny guy.

I heard that his mother arrived in LA today to make preparations to take him back to Brooklyn. What a sad time for a parent. It is a sad time for all of us in the comedy community. He is not the first suicide in our business, we have lost many a great comic mind over the years. I've always thought it ironic that in a business where we describe ourselves as 'dying' in front of an audience or 'killing' at a certain club that so many of us may keep going with such a sad undercurrent running like faulty electricity through our lives.

I only knew him as Rich, he became Richard when he moved to Hollywood so, R.I.P. Rich.

End of chat. Literally.