More Memory Stuff (The Mandela Effect)

Are you familiar with the completely fabricated and ridiculous idea behind ‘The Mandela Effect’?  If you are uninitiated. I’ll walk you through it. 

Several years ago, in the meme-heavy internet world that we live in, there were people who believed at one point in their lives that Nelson Mandela had died before his actual death in 2013.  Upon news of his death, the internet came alive with ‘I thought he was dead already’ comments.  These were so pervasive that other collective brain farts were brought to life.  A lot of people thought the cartoon called the ‘Berenstein Bears’ instead of the ‘Berenstain Bears’.  There was the notion that the comedian Sinbad starred in a genie movie in the 90’s, which wasn’t true.  These ‘false memories’ became such a trope that there were theories (sometimes tongue-in-cheek, sometimes not) that we as a society were living in an alternate universe where Mandela lived longer, and the cartoon was always known as The Berenstein Bears.   

My analysis ends there.  Why?  Because it’s not worth noting. This is all ridiculous bullshit. The truth is, you probably have a shitty memory.  Or, at the very least, our bar for a good memory is much higher than we realize. 

I also cannot fathom the size of the ego that would even conjecture that the entire universe is wrong and that I’m right, there’s no way that the information in my mind is wrong.  I realize that a lot of people had fun with the Mandela Effect, but the fact that such a thing even exists shows the lack of our ability to evaluate the information we have stored.  Or, we simply are so full of ourselves that we’ve forgotten to simply admit ‘Yeah, I don’t know’.

All cards on the table.  I have a great fucking memory.  It’s my strongest attribute and my most powerful tool to trick people into believing that I’m smart.  I can barely add and subtract, I’m not mechanically inclined whatsoever, I wouldn’t know a sound business strategy if it punched me in the face.  But I remember.  History. Geography. Scientific factoids. State capitals. I remember every movie I’ve ever seen in a theater; who I was with, and where we saw it.  I probably remember your birthday.  I remember the personal information you’ve told me.  Yes, even that conversation we had 25 years ago.

When I was a kid my parents always told me to remember where we parked.  My dad called me from the bar on Friday nights to have me answer trivia questions and presumably win him a bet or two.  I crushed Trivial Pursuit when I was 10.

How the hell do you remember that?  Do you sit around and study this stuff every day? I don’t have room in my brain for all of that.

And it’s not perfect.  I don’t have perfect recall by any means.  That sounds like a nightmare.  I forget shit all the time.

I didn’t understand the depths and uniqueness of my memory until I was much older.  It is exceptional.  Most of the little gifted kids I grew up with had the same thing, some didn’t.  Not being able to remember the little bits and pieces of life is perfectly normal.  That’s the marking of a normal memory.  Just because you can’t remember the name of your classmate from high school doesn’t mean you have Alzheimer’s around the corner.  You’re normal.  The brain tosses these things aside.

             Did I know Mandela was still alive? Yep.  Did I always call it the Berenstain Bears? Yeppers. I pay attention.  I read.  I can pronounce s-t-a-i-n.

 But I’m constantly asking myself, after reading a news blurb about a celebrity death: Wait, I thought I heard that this guy died already.  Well, I was wrong. Not only am I wrong about a lot of stuff that I thought, you are too.  Collectively we’re been wrong about some major things over the last few thousand years or so.  We’re not dumb or trapped in some interdimensional backward world.  We’re just wrong. Look in the mirror and admit it when you’re wrong.  It might feel like it's going to be the worst thing ever.  It’s not.  It feels alright.

Be wrong with me, won’t you?

My 20 Favorite Stand-Up Comedians Of All The Times

I’ve been a fan of stand-up comedy since I was 15.  It’s all I gave a shit about in high school and my GPA reflected that.  Turns out that I really loved writing it more than performing it, and I’ve never stopped writing it. I’ve seen dozens of performances live, collected tapes and CD’s, and watched five million comedy specials since the late 80’s.  I have a list of my 20 favorite stand-up performers based on their careers on stage.  There’s no real order, but you can figure out who goes where.

 (Individuals have been left off of this list if they’ve been accused or convicted of sexual assault and/or converted to right-wing mouthpieces. Screw you guys.)

David Cross – I’ve decided that if I had made the leap to try and become a professional back in 1990, this is one of the guys I would have tried to suck up to. I would have failed.  Surly, sarcastic, brash, intelligent and a cantankerous asshole when he wants to be.  All the things I aspired to when I was 18.

Todd Barry – He actually writes and tells jokes.  He has a point of view but there aren’t a lot of traditional joke writers anymore and no one has his patient cadence. 

Richard Lewis – Retired, I think.  Back in the late 80’s and early 90’s, this geezer had an energy to his shows that were so fun.  Marc Maron said that they don’t have Jewish comedians like this anymore because they have medication for this type of frenetic anxiety and depression. Kind of a shame.

Maria Bamford – 100% original voice.  Absolutely one of a kind in every way possible. Open about her mental illness struggles and gives you a peek inside her chaotic brain.  I’ve taken all my kids to their first stand up show and this was my daughter Emily’s inaugural experience.

Randy and Jason Sklar – You know why this brother team is on the list? Because they’re fun.  They look like they are having fun up there and that’s a serious skill when you’ve been saying the same shit over and over.  Plus, they took a picture with me:

John Mulaney – Noob on the list. Unbelievable how gifted this guy is at such a young age.  Get in early.

Dave Chappelle – Speaking of being gifted at a young age.  I saw this guy on Comic Relief when he was 19 and he was already a seasoned pro.  He’s one of the few all-time titans who achieved his own voice, becoming a comedian and social commentator while remaining funny. 

Jim Gaffigan – Do you have any idea how difficult it is to remain a ‘clean’ comedian and stay funny for decades?  There is a select group of people who can suck the marrow out of any mundane premise and make it all gold.  Still haven’t seen him live. Tickets are too pricey.

Paula Poundstone – She is the first comedian I ever saw.  In a shitty club in Orlando, and she crushed. Her 80’s specials are engrained in my brain.

Dave Attell - The closest thing we ever got to a Gen-X Don Rickles.  Fast on his feet, dirty, and a pure joke writer.  I took my oldest son Nick to Attell for his first show.  He lost his mind.

Bob Goldthwait – Bobcat has 4 careers.  80’s stand-up star, lukewarm comedic actor, indie film director, modern club comic.  First major name I saw live and he clashed with the redneck audience that paid to see him.  Lifelong punk attitude and native of Syracuse, New York, like yours truly. Minus the punk attitude.

Andy Kindler – Honestly, sometimes this guy is number 1 on my list.  Truly.  Absolutely no one does what he does.  He deconstructs the actual stand up experience, the jokes, the audience, the other comedians.  It’s more performance art and it all comes out of the mouth of a cranky old man.  He is known as a comedian’s comedian, which means only funny people enjoy him.  Again, it’s a shame.

Ellen Degeneres – You read that right.  Don’t give a shit about her talk show or even her sitcom.  Ellen was one of the most remarkable stand-ups in the 1980’s.  Even better than a lot of her male counterparts. Having a voice is so key and it seems like she had it the whole time. If you have to separate into categories…greatest female stand-up ever.

Bill Hicks - I’m one of the few people who was actually a fan of this guy before he died of cancer in 1994. Had his albums on cassette. Part lonely political comic, part paranoid stoner.   Some of the stuff doesn’t age as well, and when I think of him, I wonder what he would have been like if he had time to grow. 

Dana Gould – Stalwart comedian who was also a writer for the funniest show of all time, The Simpsons. He comes from the first generation of nerds and weirdos and has also dipped his toe in political commentary. My son Holden’s first show.

Paul F. Tompkins – Belongs on the list because of a unique voice and confidence on stage.  I’ve enjoyed probably 1000 hours of his improv work in the last 10 years in podcast-land so it did color my opinion, too. An attitude of ‘if you don’t get it, that’s your problem’.  Love it.

Chris Rock - Now we’re hitting my Mount Rushmore.  There is only one successor to George Carlin, and it is Chris Rock.  A millionaire, yet still needs to get specials out there. He needs to still perform. There are at least one or two undeniable brilliant observations per stand-up set. There are jokes, but there are big ideas behind them. Sometimes he’s just talking to us, and that’s what makes him like Carlin. 

Patton Oswalt – Patton was created in a lab when I needed a comedian to speak directly to me.  I would have tried to befriend him too if I put myself out there in 1990 but he would have thought I was a hack and told me to fuck off. The godfather of nerds, social commentator, writer, father, husband, fat guy.  Seen him twice.  Will see him again.

Richard Pryor - I mean, come on.  The funniest comedian of all time.  Legend.  Hall of famer.  He helped define what a stand-up is and what he could get away with.  If you haven’t gone back and checked him out, pay attention to when he gets into story mode.  He breathed life into every character, each with a unique voice.  You’re listening to a story about eleven different people and Pryor is the voice they’re coming from. He also anthropomorphized animals and everyday objects. It was rhythmic; musical. It all started there.

George Carlin – Pryor is the funniest comedian of all time; Carlin is the best comedian of all time.  A machine of writing, observation, social commentary, wordplay, language study, fart jokes.  He could do everything.  (Except relationship stuff.  Ever notice that?  He skipped that shit.) Hours and hours over forty years.  Insane work ethic.  He also evolved over time.  Straight-laced club performer, hippie stoner comic, 70’s drugged-out waste, reinvigorated political commentator, grumpy old man, enlightened old man. His later stuff was aimed directly at Americans in general, whom he thought could have been so much better.  Some bristle at his later stuff that is ‘mean’ to the audience, but I think we need that.  I don’t think we’re ‘soft’, as much as we need to not take ourselves so damn seriously.

Another reason I’ve always loved comedy.

Welcome To Anxiety, Everyone!

I never thought to compare a lifetime of anxiety to a global pandemic but…what do you know?  Here we are.

I have an entire lifetime of people telling me to chill out or calm down or relax.  Now, I finally have something for them that they can relate to.  It is this.  The uncertainty, the restlessness, the discomfort…that is anxiety, folks.  There are a few differences which I would like to clarify, but this may be the closest you get to what it feels likes for us every day.

I’m not skittish.  I’m not a worry-wort.  I don’t need to man up.  I have a complex set of chemicals in my brain that fire uncontrollably in the face of stressful situations.  You have them, too.  But mine are excessive and long-lasting.  I can’t count to ten and they subside.  They are so intense, so enduring, they eat away the strength of my heart.  They’ve caused me to lose my hair more rapidly.  They invite other physical problems in an effort to compensate for what the anxiety is doing to me.  It’s why I have to take pills.  I don’t want to.  I have to.

The primary difference is that this virus outbreak will be over at some point in the future.  We’ll look back on it and have memories of being cooped up in our houses and wonder why toilet paper is the central creation of western civilization.  Anxiety doesn’t end.  Talking about it can create it.  I feel tense right now as I write this.  No shit. The muscles in my left arm are tight just because I’m tussling with the beast in written form.  Anxiety doesn’t fuck around.  It feeds itself.             My life is a never-ending challenge to take it easy.  I need to do anything: walk, read, nap, work, watch a movie, talk with friends and family, read some more, write down all of this bullshit, just to stay ahead of anxiety.  I can’t give it anything to nibble on.

Before I was medicated, it was ten times worse.  I actually can’t bring myself to write about it.  It’s that bad.

The internet is full of people trying to describe what to do if you have a love one with anxiety.  My wife and I have been together for almost 30 years and she still doesn’t know.  I’ve tried to explain it to her, but she’ll never get it. Not really. It’s hard to understand because it is illogical.  It’s emotions run amok.  So, I have to just tell her and everyone else what not to do around me.  It’s not that bad. 

First, I don’t give a shit about the news.  Because of the wide reach of media, I will find out what I absolutely need to know no matter what.  The minutiae, the day-to-day updates, are inconsequential and fuel for my anxiety’s fire. Second, anxiety is a real thing.  You can’t see it or touch it, but it is real.  When I’m feeling it, it has to be dealt with and there is no need to wonder why or how it appeared.  Especially why.  It is an involuntary response to unknown stimuli.  I don’t have words to give it form and definition.  I just feel like I’m having a heart attack and my nerve endings are trying to leap out of my fingertips.  Happy?!

What do I do? That’s the thought of millions of us during this unusual and stressful time.  That is as close to the central question of anxiety as I can think of.  What do I do?  Am I doing enough?  Am I in danger?  Are my kids okay? Will my mom be alright?  Do we have enough money?  Where are my good socks?  Imagine all of those with equal weight all the time.  Yeah, it sucks pretty bad.

For those of us with it, take your meds, breathe, get exercise when you can, lean on your distractions.  You’ve trained for this. If you are trying to weather this anxiety storm for the first time, you have no recourse but to be patient and understanding.  Leave your preconceived notions about manliness and gumption and John Wayne horseshit at the door.  Be nice.  Be there for someone.  And keep doing that forever, while you’re at it.