19/07/2025
Editor's column:
A reader on our page wrote a nice note about my last column that she enjoyed the use of humor.
Good thing she doesn’t know me personally.
Those who do note that when I’m not working, I try to be funny all the time. That only works about 20 percent of the time but as my daughter notes, if her jokes only land 35 percent of the time, that’s a baseball hall of fame rate.
And that’s the opinion of a professional.
You see, my kid has an actual degree — with honors — in comedic arts from Emerson College. The school is only one of two in the country with the degree, competing with Columbia College in Chicago.
A huge chunk of Hollywood’s funny people come from Emerson, going back to the 1950s with Norman Lear.
But I think I’d like a little credit for my kid being a professional smart-ass. You see, I was raised by unprofessional comedians who always searched for a punchline to something I said. When I was a kid, I felt a great joy in my heart when I could make mom or dad laugh. When I was in second grade, my dad bought me a collection of the great radio comedians so I grew up on those. Bob and Dave remain my favorites for their surrealism years before Monty Python showed up.
If there was a comedy show on TV and I somehow had control of the TV with three brothers, we’d watch comedy. Three Stooges, Marx Brothers, Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, and Laurel and Hardy topped the list.
When my kid was about 10 years old, she made a funny comment to me in front of a store clerk. He said, “You have a funny kid.” I told him I was trying to teach her the history of comedy. He said, “I hope you go all the way back — to The Smothers Brothers.” I said calmly that I was going to take her back to Aristophanes, the ancient Greek who parodied Socrates and others 300 BCE.
But kid wasn’t ready until she was 13 because there are more mature themes.
“Dad,” she said. “The ancient Greeks were dirty.”
Look up “Lysistrata” if you want to know what I mean.
Classic comedy, I said. Blue is easy. Classy is tougher.
She went to comedy camp in Los Angeles when she was 16. Killed.
She started college at 17 because I entered her into the public school system early — I honestly didn’t know what else I could do with her.
My favorite story of her in grade school, in fifth she had a gifted-and talented-class where part of the process was creating a product. She made a Rasputin Pillow Pet.
Now she’s in Hollywood, working on a show where she’s assistant show runner and learning the process of making a TV show. She was asked to read for a part on the show of a 35-year-old ugly woman. HBO executives said she was too young and too pretty.
I love her much.
Rich Jackson is regional manager for newspapers
in Hayward and Spooner. He can be reached [email protected] or at 715-718-6445.