Tag Archives: humor

Guests from Hell

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Susan Kelly

Susan KellySince the biggest entertaining season of the year is now well upon us—starting with Thanksgiving, now past; proceeding into Hanukkah, well underway as I write this; with Christmas and New Year’s upcoming—I thought I’d write about everyone’s looming but generally unspoken seasonal dread. That would be The Guest from Hell.

Guests from hell come upon us in different shapes and guises, but they all have one thing in common: You never want them to darken your door again. Unfortunately, sometimes the dictates of family and friendship require that you do.

I should note that I have never actually entertained a guest from hell. (I must be lucky; my relatives and friends know how to behave at dinner parties. Or maybe I just have good taste in friends and relatives.) I have, however, attended a fair number of dinner parties at which a guest (or two) from hell was present.

Generally, guests from hell can be broken down into four categories: The bore from hell; the drunk from hell; the teetotaler from hell; and the pugilist from hell.

  1. The Bore from Hell. My most memorable encounter with one of these was at a dinner party I attended several years ago. Among the eight guests were a very cosmopolitan English couple who had arrived in the United States loaded with juicy gossip about the royal family and various members of the peerage. Everyone was totally dying to hear about the latest high-profile hijinks of Charles, Camilla, Anne, Fergie, Andrew, Edward, and whoever other of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II’s spawn and grandspawn and other assorted relations had been doing something scandalous recently. After we were seated, and enjoying the first course, the wife of the couple began relating a saga that involved, if I recall correctly, the Royal Navy, some polo ponies, and an orgy. We were riveted. Except, of course, for the bore from hell, who decided he wanted to discuss…Schubert Now, I bow to no one in my regard for the canon of western classical music. But I don’t need to hear about—over dinner—alternate titles, numbers assigned in the catalogue, conflicting versions of the first line of any given song, or the history of various instrumentations of any of Franz Schubert’s works. Well, anyway…we finally managed to get back on the subject of royal orgies. Just as the resident story-teller was reaching the good part, Bore from Hell interrupted her with: “Getting back to the subject of Schubert lieder,” and treated us all to a non-stop droning monologue about the chronology of part songs for male and female vocalists. Everyone at the table glumly subsided into resigned silence. You could see the thought bubbles over their heads: “Oh, shit, let’s just get this meal over with.”
  1. The Drunk from Hell. My worst experience with a drunk from hell was at a very flossy Harvard dinner party thrown by a dean and his wife. I was seated at the table next to a very senior professor who had gotten himself insanely drunk during the preceding cocktail hour. He kept pawing me, which was extremely disconcerting for numerous reasons, one of them being the fact that his glowering wife was seated directly across the table from us, staring daggers at him. (I don’t blame her in the least.) Things got worse when he put his hand under my dress, and—I still don’t know how he accomplished this—managed to rip my pantyhose into shreds. (He must have had claws instead of fingernails.) I was considerably younger than I am now when this happened, and I had no idea what to do other than sit still and feel horribly embarrassed and uncomfortable. I know what I’d do now: I’d remove his hand from under my dress, place it on the table, impale it with a fork, and smile serenely at the rest of the company. I pass this advice along to any young women who might find themselves in a similar situation.
  1. The Teetotaler from Hell. This is the kind of person who, if you ask him or her if he or she would like a drink before dinner—martini, Scotch on the rocks, bourbon, wine, whatever, responds by saying: “No, thanks. I don’t believe in polluting my body with toxic substances.” This is not a person who is interested in maintaining a healthy lifestyle. This is a person who takes pleasure in being a morally superior killjoy. Rational people—good guests—who don’t drink alcohol, for whatever reason, simply ask politely for ice water, a soft drink, or fruit juice. I am always very happy to accommodate them, as I am when cooking for people with real, special dietary requirements, whether dictated by religion, culture, or genuine health issues such as gluten intolerance, lactose intolerance, or the need to restrict salt or sugar consumption.
  1. The Pugilist from Hell. This is the guest who will start a fight with anyone, any time. Both sides of the political spectrum produce this creature. The fight is always about some hot-ticket cultural, religious, or political issue that can’t be reduced to simple sloganeering, which is what the pugilist always does. The pugilist always thinks he’s in the right, and everyone else is completely wrong. Not just wrong, but evil. This does not make for a jolly evening.

Well, that about wraps up my list of Guests from Hell. Certainly there are sub-categories, such as the Drunk Horny Guest from Hell (which I believe I described above); or the Drunk Pugilist Guest from Hell (not uncommon); or the Teetotaler Pugilist Guest from Hell (a ghastly permutation of the breed); or the Drunk Bore Pugilist from Hell (I think we have some cross-breeding here), but you get the point. I’ve been there, seen that. And I wish they could all go to dinner by themselves and leave the rest of us alone.

That said: I wish you all the happiest of holidays, a very good New Year, and…a Guest from Hell-free guest list. With respect to the Guest from Hell-free guest list: Am I asking too much?

BETTER DEAD THAN RED

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Zachary Klein

zachI’ve never lived in a Communist country. Never lived in a Socialist country either. But in our capitalistic United States, money is the gift that keeps on giving—even after you’re dead. Money for nothing, (but the chicks ain’t free).

Admittedly, this isn’t the way I usually think about dying, but since I don’t believe in heaven or hell, the notion of money pouring in post mortem, (something I rarely experienced in my lifetime), may lift my thoughts when I see the White Light.

Over the years I’ve ranted and railed against vast wealth accumulated in too few hands. That hasn’t changed. But I just don’t see much downside to lining my pockets from six feet under.

Here’s a look at some people who have been partaking in death’s affluence for decades. All figures are approximate since different sources report different amounts—but with these numbers…who’s counting?

Einstein

 

Albert Einstein, dead since 1955, squared away $10,000,000 last year alone. And this before the supposed line of scientific instruments, tablets, and computers bearing his name hit the market. I shoulda’ gotten a degree.MarleyLet’s face it, no matter how political I am or ever will be, no one will ever mistake me for a White Bob Marley. I can’t hold a fucking tune. And though he’s been dead since 1981, no matter. Mr. One Love chilled with a cool $18,000,000 last year. That kind of scratch scores some really, really good shit. But even with all that money, he might have a difficult time finding a dealer. Now that would hurt.

Believe me, Marley isn’t the only singer who no longer has to sing for supper.

Lennon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Lennon, who died in 1980, does pretty well at $12,000,000 a year. This for a guy who curled up naked and used to warble All You Need is Love.

 

LIZZYAnd it’s impossible to speak about love, death and money without noting that Elizabeth Taylor (2011) rakes in $25,000,000 per. Imagine if she also got alimony.

 

To put her yearly earnings into perspective, the entire estate of Richard Burton (dead since 1984) was estimated in 2013 to be worth a paltry $50,000,000 total.L&B

 

 

 

 

 

I guess it’s better to slug down pills AND alcohol.

 

McQueen

Of course, many other actors have their hands out, even if it’s in front of their headstones. The “King of Cool,” Steve McQueen, who died way back in 1980, earns a nifty $9,000,000 yearly.

 

 

A pretty good reward for making his Great Escape.

 

 

MM

 

And please, let’s not forget Marilyn. Her medicine chest gets replenished with the $15,000,000 a year. I’m guessing that JFK and the Yankee Clipper are gritting their teeth with envy. Or, given their lives, maybe not so much.

 

 

 

Lest you think that only pop culture superstars and actors get this gig (and, yes, these days Einstein is exactly that), think again.

 

RAY

 

Dead since 2004, Ray Charles manages to earn a solid $10,000,000 a year. In fact, Ray’s earnings have risen since his death.

 

 

Seuss1

Theodor Geisel (aka Dr. Seuss) dumps about $9,000,000 into his hat every year. No wonder the Doctor’s cat has a smile like the Cheshire’s.

 

R&H

 

And believe it or not, the cumulative net worth of Rodgers and Hammerstein has also been upwardly mobile. (Oscar died in 1960, Richard in 1979). Does $235,000,000 sound like Some Enchanted Evening to you?

 

 

There are so many dead people earning that I can’t list all. But I would be incredibly remiss if I neglected “The King” despite the fact that Elvis, who died 1977, isn’t the highest annual earner. That honor goes to yet another “King,” Michael Jackson who, since his death, 2009, has earned close to a billion dollars.

Jackson

 

Now that’s one hell of a lot of toys—if he can use them. (And enough to fund some new exquisite videos). ElvisStill, the “original” King is making $55,000,000, which ain’t exactly chump change. That’s over $150,000 a day for being dead!

I guess Stephen Sondheim (alive, but expected to earn after death as well) knew what he was talking about when he wrote:

I like to be in America, Okay by me in America, Everything free in America ~ West Side Story (1958)

Me and My…Doppelganger?

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Susan Kelly

Susan KellyA week or so ago, I got a nice email from a woman who told me how much she enjoyed a recent podcast I’d done, and added that she had bought my Boston Strangler book in its Kindle edition, and was enjoying it. Of course I wrote back right away to thank her.

The thing is, I hadn’t done a podcast, although I am scheduled to do one at some future date with the interviewer whose name she mentioned as having done this particular one. I thought this was rather odd—my memory is still sufficiently acute to recall any podcast I’d made recently—but then, after thinking about it a bit, I decided that perhaps some audio I’d done for another broadcast at some point had been licensed by the producer of this particular podcast and interpolated with questions from the interviewer. That would be an odd way to go about doing an interview, but not, I suppose illegal. And what do I care if it results in a book sale? And as long I don’t sound like an idiot, which apparently I didn’t.

Are you with me so far? I have a feeling this is going to be hard to explain.

Okay. So. Just as I was sending off my reply to the first email, a second one, from the same woman, appeared in my inbox. This one was a little different from the first. Still very nice and polite, but different. She told me how much she enjoyed meeting me, and then apologized for the condition of her house when I was a guest in it.

I have never met this woman (she gave her name). I have never been in her house. I have never even been in the small city in which she lives. And of course I don’t know the two relatives to whom she mentioned having introduced me.

Cue the theme from The Twilight Zone. I mean, really. Where’s Rod Serling when you need him to explain things?

Narrator: This is Susan Kelly. A little-known writer living in a small town. Her life follows a routine as clearly marked as a highway. But today, she’ll take an unexpected exit off that well-known road, into…The Twilight Zone.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…

I wrote back to the woman, saying: “I’m terribly sorry to be so forgetful, but could you refresh my memory about where and when we met?”

She wrote back, asking, “Have I made a mistake?”

Huh?

Actually, I can understand why people—who’ve never seen nor met me—might confuse me with another Susan Kelly who’s a writer. There are about six of them, which is why I don’t bother with my Facebook account, since no one can find it anyway. If I’d known this back in the day, when I first started writing, I’d have changed my pen name to something like Cynthia Ricker Hayes, or Margaret Eleanor Abbott, which would have had the advantage of honoring some of my ancestors (a tougher crew of stand-up broads than you can imagine; I’m honored to inherit their DNA) while distinguishing myself from the other seven hundred gazillion Susan Kellys on the planet.

So I don’t know. If there’s someone prancing around pretending to be me, I can give you a test that will confirm, absolutely, that you have the real Susan. Ask her if she wants a vodka martini, on the rocks, olives, before dinner.

If she says “yes,” it’s me.

AROUND THE DIAL

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Zachary Klein

zachIt’s slipping into November and even with the complexity of television’s indecipherable series/season release schedule, it’s time to smile and write about one of my favorite mediums.

While it’s true that my affinity for the box is due to long-standing childhood traumas (what else would an ex-psychoanalytic analysand believe?), I’m not bashful about my affection. I’ve used this space enough times for readers to know many of my television likes and dislikes. Still, there’s always new ground to cover and that’s especially true this time of year for sports fans. Baseball is rapidly moving into the World Series (the play-offs have been top shelf), football is concussing its way toward its midway point, and basketball and hockey are lighting up their arenas. We’re talking the last vestiges of live television here and that’s something to be treasured. Trust me, Ernie Kovacs is not walking through the door any time soon.

But there is another genre that while not done live, does purport to be real.

Okay, I’m gonna come out. Yes, I am a closet “reality show” freak. No doubt this admission will draw disapproving, baleful looks from Kelly, my writing partner, given her rants about House Hunters. But a guy’s gotta to watch what he’s gotta watch and, when it hits post-midnight, that usually means Law & Order reruns, Sportscenter, or SOMETHING ELSE. I usually scour for the ELSE.

I’ve been told the late night talk shows are dramatically better than ever. While I admire Colbert, Kimmel, Fallon, et al, I’ve never been a big fan of the format. At least not since Steve Allen so, more often than not (unless I’m really deep into insomnia and turn to C-Span for warm milk), I bang the clicker until I stumble upon “real.”

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about good reality shows like Anthony Bourdain’s. I save him for prime time. In fact, while I’ve always enjoyed all Bourdain’s different programs, I am truly digging Parts Unknown above and beyond. It’s allowed him to spread his wings and cover much more than dinner and drinks. Who’da thunk I’d really, really want to visit Vietnam?

I’m not a carpet sniffing junkie. I do have my bad show standards—albeit, set at a low bar. I don’t watch Duck Dynasty or The Kardashians (though again, in obedience to my personal 12-step, I did spend an entire flight from Fort Lauderdale to Boston watching back-to-back episodes on JetBlue).

Pawnstars may never get me to Vegas, I’ll never have the money to bring a classic to Counting Cars, and the thought of actually being in a semi barreling across the frozen tundra with Ice Road Truckers is beyond all belief. Still, when we’re talking deep in the night, awake but too tired to read…sure I’ll ride shotgun! Especially from under the covers.

But none of these shows are actually real, you say? Duh. Does anyone believe that Rick Harrison is a historical expert? Or that Chumlee knows anything about anything at all? In fact, there’s a whole industry out there debunking these shows. According to one skeptic Russel Scott, as of 2012, his myth busting articles have been read by hundreds of thousands of viewers. (Near as I can tell he’s shredded the reality of Pawnstars, American Pickers, Storage Wars, and Auction Hunters). What surprises me, though, is the possibility that there might be people who actually need these exposés.

Do you know anyone who makes a living bidding on vacated storage lockers?

Look, truth is not television’s strongest suit. Just watch the news.

In fact, although staged, today’s reality shows have a long and storied history. This Is Your Life ran on radio, then TV, from 1948-1961. Sometimes it was real, sometimes not so much. Didn’t matter. The show was a hit.

This is your life

 

 

 

 

 

 

And of course, there was the king of them all: Queen for a Day, which ran on the Mutual Radio Network from 1945 until 1957, on NBC Television from 1956 to 1960, then on ABC Television from 1960 to 1964. Queen for a Day became so successful that NBC lengthened its running time from 30 to 45 minutes in order to sell more commercials.

Queen-For-A-Day-March-1958

 

 

 

 

 

 

You all know the premise: Four women tell heart-wrenching tales about their tragedies and the one who ranked highest on the applause-o-meter won a ton of free shit. It was often difficult to understand how a washing machine would help with a child’s disease, but what the hell. “Sure ‘Queen’ was vulgar and sleazy and filled with bathos and bad taste,” wrote producer Howard Blake in an article for Fact magazine. “That was why it was so successful. It was exactly what the general public wanted….We got what we were after. Five thousand Queens got what they were after. And the TV audience cried their eyes out, morbidly delighted to find there were people worse off than they were.”

So what exactly is it that I’m after during those sleepless hours? First, the ability to turn the fucking set off without a second thought when I’m finally ready to sleep. But almost as important, I enjoy looking at unusual “stuff” (How many years has Antiques Roadshow been on, highbrows?), or watching even a fake depiction of a lifestyle to which I’ve never been exposed. Yep. I binged on Amish Mafia. Sue me.

As far as I’m concerned television has nothing to do with truth (or consequences). Like I said, watch the news.

Note to Susan. You didn’t go far enough with House Hunters. It’s rigged.

Any fool can be happy. It takes a man with real heart to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep. ~ Clive Barker

Trump-o-mania Quiz: Did He Really Say That? You Decide!

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Susan Kelly

Susan KellyBelow are some real, actual, bona fide Donald Trump quotes, interspersed with some I’ve invented for the occasion. See if you can guess which are real and which are fake.

Quiz rules:

  • You may NOT cheat by Googling the quotes. (Humpf.)
  • Commenters may invent their own Trump quotes, but these fakes should be clearly  labeled as such. The individual who  devises the most outrageous yet plausible.
  • Trump quote will receive ten bonus points.
  • The winner will be declared on Friday.

All right? Ready, set…go for it!!!!

1. “The gays love me. I’ve hired a lot of gays.”

2. “My wife Melania will be the hottest First Lady in the history of this country.”

3. “Jeb Bush has to like the Mexican illegals because of his wife.”

4. “What’s really bugging the other Republican candidates is that they know I’m much richer and much smarter than they are, and it makes them crazy.”

5. “The women have told me that once they’ve had sex with me, they can’t be satisfied by any other man.”

6. “If Hillary Clinton can’t satisfy her husband, what makes her think she can satisfy America?”

7. “Part of the beauty of me is that I’m very, very rich.”

8. “Writers and artists and musicians are good, but basically they’re losers. Most of them don’t make much money. I can respect a guy like Stephen King. He’s made a lot of money.

9. “I will be the greatest representative of the Christians they’ve had in a long time.”

10. “When I get to the White House, there will be an upgrade, I can tell you. We’ll be putting in a world-class spa, a gourmet kitchen, and penthouse accommodations. And Donald Trump is telling you it won’t cost the American people one cent.” [Note: Donald Trump, like very small children, often refers to himself in the third person.]

11. “I have a great relationship with the blacks. I’ve always had a great relationship with the blacks.”

12. “If I decide to run, you’ll have the great pleasure of voting for the man that will easily go down as the greatest president in the history of the United States: Me.”

13. “I’m much taller than Vladimir Putin. That’s important in making a deal.”

14. “Susan Kelly is a bimbo.”

15. “Arianna Huffington is unattractive both inside and out. I fully understand why her husband left her for a man—he made the right choice.”

16. “I love associating with losers, because it makes me feel better about myself.”

17. “Women find his power almost as much of a turn-on as his money.” [Again, third person.]

18. “I don’t want [ISIS] to know what I’m doing. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have to tell at some point, but there is a method of defeating them quickly and effectively and having total victory.”

19. “It’s a proven fact that my I.Q. is pretty much the same as Einstein’s.”

20. “They kiss my ass in Palm Beach.”

Author’s note: It was fun writing this quiz, but a lot harder than you might think to invent the fake quotes. By the time this piece is published, Trump will probably have said a few more things even more grotesque than I could ever imagine.