I became a stand-up comic because I liked making people laugh.
Actually, you know what? That’s a lie. I became a stand-up comic because I liked being illuminated on an elevated platform and allowed to shout into an amplification device. My therapist has mentioned something about a narcissistic personality disorder, but I’ll be honest with you: I’m only really interested in therapy when it’s my turn to talk.
Either way, here I am. I’m in St. Louis at the moment winding my way through a four-pack of single-serving gas station wine and watching Family Guy on Netflix Instant.
Let me rephrase that: I’m attempting to watch Family Guy on Netflix Instant. There are two things that are stopping me from adequately enjoying the experience.
First, if the internet is a big hose that sprays bits of happiness at you, the hotel I’m at is like one of those African villages where people have to walk five miles a day for fresh water. Does that diminish the plight of those poor people? Oh, sure, probably, but it’s not their fault that the metaphor is apt.
Listen, independent hotel owners, you can’t say “complimentary high-speed wireless” if what you mean is “I have the password to my neighbor’s router! Internet for everyone!” We need a database of which hotels actually have wireless that let you do the things you expect from the internet: porn, Netflix, porn and porn.(Does such a database exist? I’d check google, but I’m worried it’ll derail my already fragile connection to the Family Guy.)
Second, despite the third-tier hotel, the $7.99 wine, and the 11 solid hours of complete isolation from society I’ve endured today, life on the road isn’t as glamorous as you might think it is. In fact, it’s pretty goddamn awful.
And Family Guy makes it worse.
Nothing etches “alone” into your forehead faster than watching comedy by yourself.
See, if I were home right now, I’d be forcing my wife to watch the season seven episode “Three Kings” with me even though she’s not a huge Family Guy fan and would get none of the Stephen King references. But, I’d be laughing.
You don’t laugh when you’re alone. You smile. You appreciate. You chuckle, maybe. But you don’t laugh.
So, as I wait for the last third of the episode to rebuffer, I thought I’d shoot a line to my friends at CliqueClack to give them a friendly reminder that no matter how much you feel like your life might suck, if you’ve got someone to laugh with tonight and some porn to masturbate later, maybe things ain’t so bad after all.
And if you don’t have anybody? My I recommend Vendange California Chardonnay. It’s pretty terrible, but two bottles down, you won’t care anymore.
(Jay Black is a comedian and writer. Follow him on Twitter and make sure you listen to his podcast right here on CliqueClack.com)
Clacked by Jay Black 
on Feb 20, 2011 @ 22:41 EST5EDT
. . . . .
Of note: I laugh all by myself watching television.
Amateur psychologists: Have at that.
Interesting, Michael. Have you always been able to laugh while watching TV by yourself?
(I used to fit Jay’s example — I smiled, appreciated, chuckled. Often I would try to figure out the how/why of the funny. A few years ago I started _laughing_ while watching TV alone, made a note of it, and moved on. Never really thought it was anything worth discussing or writing about, though.)
. . . . .
I cannot recall exactly when I began guffawing and laughing out loud all by my lonesome, William, but I know I’ve done it for a very long time.
I can distinctly remember having done so in high school while watching Warner Bros. cartoons and Marx Brothers films … worthy things to laugh at, to be sure.
And just last night while watching Bob’s Burgers …
I do on occasion while watching something like Community or a movie on TV laugh out loud while all alone and I don’t feel like a crazy person while doing it. Its when there are other people around me yet I am alone watching something is when I feel strange laughing.
Take for instance when I was watching TV and just couldn’t help laughing at something until I notice my roommate out of the corner of my eye in the kitchen. Suddenly I felt like an idiot for laughing. Or when I was on a busy commuter train and got a really funny text message. I felt like a psycho for breaking into a smile reading it and had to fight every urge to laugh. And probably to others I looked like psychotic person smiling about something they have no idea about.
No way, my proximity to other people has no effect on the volume of my laughs! Actually, its when there are other people around and I am the only one laughing that I feel strange or weird.
Right now I guess I’m just thankful that the giant hose spraying happiness that is the internet brought me some Jay Black writing. Looking forward to some more.