Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

Without realizing it, of course, this attitude is the exact right way to start out in the world of comedy. Expect nothing. Accept anything.

I have many great friends who are actors, writers and artists of various kinds. But when I’m in the company of other stand-up comedians I feel like I’m rolling around in a litter of puppies.

The real problem of stand-up, of course, is that you must constantly justify why you are the only one talking while a room full of people sit quietly.

I love hearing a laugh that’s never existed in the world before.

Adulthood is the ability to be totally bored and remain standing. Supermarket line, Motor Vehicle Bureau. You hang right in there, solid as a rock.

Why can’t they have subtitles for the plot? “Closed-captioned for the movie impaired.” I would go to these movies. Little lines pop up, “Don’t worry about this guy. He’s only in this one scene.” “Here’s the name of the other movie you can’t remember that you’ve seen this person in.”

The state flag of Florida should be just a steering wheel with a hat and two knuckles on it.

That’s sports. The uniform is the only constant. We just want our clothes to beat the clothes from the other city. We’re rooting for laundry.

To me, there’s no better gift than a paperweight to express to someone, “I refuse to put any thought into this at all.” And where are these people working that the papers are just blowing right off of their desks? Is their office screwed to the back of a flatbed truck going down the highway? Are they typing in the crow’s nest of a clipper ship? What do you need a paperweight for? Where’s the wind coming from?

For some reason humans like to dress in clothes that are the exact opposite of who they really are. Can’t play the sport? Wear the jersey. Morbidly obese? Walk around in a jogging outfit. No talent, skills or ability of any kind? Put on a fancy suit. Announce you’re running for office, and would like to be in charge of everything.

“Would you like to hear the Specials…?” “No. If they’re so Special, put them on the menu. I’m not interested in food that’s auditioning to get on the team.”

If this resort is so much fun to be at, why are they putting up Zip Lines? Because everyone’s so bored here they’re willing to risk decapitation to find out what it feels like to be dry cleaning.

Is there any similarity between email and whatever the hell is going on in the Postal Service? One is a digital, fiber optic, hyperspeed network. The other is this dazed and confused distant branch of the Cub Scouts, bumbling around the streets in embarrassing shorts and jackets with meaningless patches and victory medals. Driving 4 miles an hour, 20 feet at a time on the wrong side of a mentally-challenged Jeep. They always have this emotional/financial meltdown every 3 to 5 years, that their business model from 1630 isn’t working anymore. I can’t understand how a 21st century information system based on licking, walking and a random number of pennies is struggling to compete. Makes no sense. They always push the postmaster general out on TV to explain their difficulties. He’s all freaked out. Rings under his eyes, no shave, pulling all-nighters. “We can’t keep it up much longer!! The cost of the infrastructure is killing us! Looks like we’re going to have to go up another penny on the stamps!!” We’re all sitting home, “Dude, relax. We don’t even know how much a stamp is anyway. 44, 53, 62 Make it a buck. You’re going to get there. If it ends up you have some money left over, buy yourself some pants and a real car.” I would say to the post office, “If you really wanted to be helpful to us, just open the letters. Read them. AND EMAIL US WHAT IT SAYS. We’ll give you a penny for each one you do. Since that seems to be a lot of money, in Your World.”