Running for Your Life: Star of the Show

When I was 10 to 13 years old, I was tickled to perform (act goofy, sing, dance) in the living room at home in an innocent, upbeat fashion, having been seduced by the golden era of US broadcast TV, the comedians being my favorites – Bob Hope, Red Skelton, Tommy and Dick Smothers, Jimmy Durante, Groucho Marx, and most cherished, Jack Benny, his moon-faced self-deprecation whose humanity appealed to me most of all, he had me with his hand on his face, the bemused, melancholy expression. Piss my pants to think of that.

“Star of the show!” I’d shout. And Mother would smile, wipe her hands dry on her apron, give me no reason to think that my fantasy wasn’t as real as I wanted it to be.

Now, though, a half-century later, the fantasy is made hyperreal. “Parents” Larry, Jeff, Mark and Tim strike up the band of your very own comedy, drama, sports spectacle … Be the star of the show! Your show! Forget about the medieval worldview that the earth is the center the heavens that all revolves around God’s creation; forget about the modern scientific worldview that the earth revolves around the sun and fulfill yourself with the divine truth that all things – love, celestial bodies, gluten-free food – revolves around you. You! The center of the universe!

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