When I was but a wee lad, I heard of a brand-new secret called Saturday Night Live, a late Saturday night satiric romp through the culture of my land. Over the years, I've watched the show's humour ebb and flow and wax and wane and make me groan, wishing there was early retirement for their comedy show writers. The memories are all we've got of the likes of John Belushi, Gilda Radner, and Chris Farley. Some jokes stand out forever. Some jokes I barely bothered to remember. Now, the advent of the Internet has made me realize that instant comedy of all flavours has made SNL stale before it even started this season. R.I.P. SNL. I used to love ya. Now, my ADHD doesn't have time to wait for you anymore. Too bad because Jay Leno's schtick hasn't improved going an hour and a half earlier in my time zone - he gets an A for effort but an F for his guest list - we need interactive humour these days, not the same ol' Dick Cavett and David Frost shows. I'd rather sit and hear Branford and Wynton play for an hour - that'd be a show that Kevin and company would accompany very well.
Comedy is like the head on the top of a Guinness - we may celebrate 250 years of brewing tradition and wait a few minutes for a good, slow pour but it tastes old fast if the pint's been sittin' there too long or the barman's no good with conversation.
I think I'll settle down, read a good book next to my wife and contemplate the universe for a while. Give the Internet a few hours to steam - the kettle'll soon whistle a new funny tune and tickle my tush, our planet a laugh every trilliardth of a second.
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