Rubber Balls and Liquor

 

To Lillian and Lily and both Maxes

 

CONTENTS

       
Title Page

       
Dedication

       
Epigraph

       
Introduction: A Slice of Pizza and a Grape Drink

  
1.  Story of My Life

  
2.  Star Power

  
3.  Not Living up to My Potential

  
4.  Don't Forget to Tip Your Waitress

  
5.  My Brilliant Career

  
6.  First Impressions, Lasting Tributes

  
7.  Adventures in Animation

  
8.  Gag Reflex

  
9.  Circle Gets the Square

10.  Celebrity Depth Chart

11.  Cheating Death

12.  Just Tugging Along

13.  The Air up Here

       
Grand Finale: Too Soon

       
Encore: Another Slice of Pizza and a Grape Drink

       
Closing Credits: “I'd Like to Thank the Academy”

       
Copyright

 

This is the page where brilliant writers like myself look to other brilliant writers for a few words of inspiration to start their book. I've looked and looked, but haven't been able to find anything as brilliant as I could come up with on my own, so I figured I would just write this part myself. Plus, someone at the publishing house mentioned I might have to pay a fee or get permission to use a quote from someone else, and I was like,
Yeah, right.

—
GILBERT GOTTFRIED

 

INTRODUCTION

A Slice of Pizza and a Grape Drink

If I knew one day I'd write a book, I would have tried to live a more interesting life. I would have discovered fire, or invented the wheel, or added more fiber to my diet. Absolutely, I would have done … something. But then again, it's just as well, because if I know me (and I like to think I do), I would have kept all that good stuff to myself. I mean, it's nobody's business who I slept with, who I cheated in business, who I snubbed at a Friars Club roast. It's not even anybody's business
whom
I slept with or cheated or snubbed, or whether I prefer the subjective or objective pronoun. That's between me and my editor.

Most people, when I tell them I'm writing a book, they have two reactions. Either they look at me like I'm kidding, or like I'm full of shit. They'll say, “Gilbert, why are you writing a book? Do you have anything to say?” And I'll say, “No, not really.”

In my experience that's not why most people write books—because they have something to say. It's not like I read newspapers or watch the news, so I certainly don't have anything topical to say about current events or trends. Who has time for that sort of thing? By the time I hear about some new development, it's usually old news and something else has already happened. Plus, you never know what to believe. Just the other day, I heard that a black man had been elected President of the United States, and I had to laugh. I mean, where do they get some of this shit? Next they'll be telling me that a
blind
black man is, say, the governor of New York, or that Angelina Jolie is a revered social icon and humanitarian who no longer wears the blood of her lovers in a vial draped around her neck.

And so, if I have nothing to say, what the hell am I doing writing a book? It's a perfectly reasonable question. And, it just so happens that I've got a perfectly reasonable answer: I'm writing a book because I have a book deal.

Think of it in movie terms. I was once at a party and overheard these Hollywood types discussing Tom Cruise. One guy said Tom Cruise owed the studio one more picture. Another guy said he had three top directors ready to sign on to the project and a major distribution deal here and abroad. A third guy said, “Great, so what should the movie be about?”

Well, it's the same with books. Some guy set up a book deal for me, so now I have to write it. Nobody ever said, “Boy, Gilbert Gottfried is a fascinating intellect. He should write a book.” Now, I'm fairly certain that a great many people have thought this very thing, over the years, but I don't believe anyone has dared to speak such a thought out loud. As far as I know, there are no “What Would Gilbert Do?” bumper stickers out there in the heartland, indicating a burning or possibly even chafing desire on the part of Middle Americans to know what Gilbert Gottfried might say or think or do, in a given situation. But now that there's this book deal in place, I might as well follow through on it and tell them anyway. Who knows, maybe I'll come up with something memorable. Maybe I'll come off sounding like one of the great comic minds of my generation. Wouldn't that be a kick in the ass?

You may have noticed that this isn't one of those “as told to” books. Maybe you didn't notice it at first, because I slipped so naturally into a writing style that seemed to match my charming onstage personality. It must have left some readers thinking,
There's no way Gilbert could have written these few sentences by himself.
Ah, but that's where you're wrong, dear reader. I sharpened a couple pencils and sat down at my desk and wrote these few sentences, and then a few more besides. (This sentence right here, inside these parentheses, I'm writing
right now
—as we speak, so to speak.) Yes, it would have been so much easier to hire a professional writer to do it all for me, but there's no fooling you, is there? You're too smart for that.

Oh, wait. Scratch that. If you were
really
smart, you wouldn't be reading this book.

Me, I'm just smart enough to know that I'm an irritatingly voiced comic who hasn't written a good dick joke since the Carter administration. Basically, I've been getting by all these years on my charm and good looks and winsome personality.

(
Winsome
, lose some … take your pick.)

If you're like me, you've probably always hated “as told to” books. You read them and think,
Okay, is this the famous guy talking, or is this the “as told to” guy talking?
Or,
Is this what the famous guy really means to say, or have his words been twisted and neutered and sucked clean of human emotion and genuine feeling?
It's too confusing.

Say what you will about Adolf Hitler. (Go ahead, say it.) When he sat down to write
Mein Kampf
, he sat down to write
Mein Kampf
. Check out the cover and see if I'm right. It doesn't say
Mein Kampf,
by Adolf Hitler, as told to Murray Kaplowitz. It's just
der Führer
, putting it all on the line, doing his own thing. I read that and think,
Good for you, Adolf
, because now I know how hard it is to write one of these things. Turns out they want you to say something interesting on every damn page.

If you've seen my act, you'll know that I say whatever pops into my head, very often without a conscious thought. This can be a problem in the literary field, I'm told, where it sometimes helps to think things through. Also, you'll know if you've seen my act that I'm not the sort of person who writes things down—which I'm now learning is counterproductive when it comes to writing a book, where writing things down can actually be helpful.

(If you
haven't
seen my act, then you've got no business reading these opening remarks. Surely, there's a more appropriate book you could have chosen on which to waste your time and hard-earned money. Do you mean to tell me that in this entire bookstore, with rows and rows of shelves and hundreds and hundreds of different titles, you couldn't find another book to capture your attention? There are tons of other books in the store that might be a better choice. Perhaps you should try the Gardening section. Or, Bird Watching. Or, if you're determined to read the musings of a short, whiny Jew, you might consider something by Morey Amsterdam.)

So here's my idea: I'll continue to say whatever pops into my head, with or without a conscious thought, and every once in a while I'll scribble it down with one of my sharpened pencils. If I happen to scribble something book-worthy, it'll be your job to let me know. You see, it's a regular two-way street, this author-reader relationship. I have an obligation to you, to entertain and enlighten and mildly amuse, and you have an obligation to me, to subsidize my extravagant lifestyle by buying this fucker in the first place. Also, you have to tell me if everything is spelled properly.

With any luck, I'll come up with enough material to justify the senseless killing of all the trees to produce all the paper we'll need to print the millions of books my adoring public will surely demand. And, you'll laugh uproariously at my creative, soulful talent, which will surely be evident on every page.

Another thing I'll need from you on this two-way street: I have some trouble in my everyday, not-writing-a-book life with double meanings, so you'll have to watch out for this, too. A lot of words, you can take them the wrong way, and if you must know I don't
always
mean to offend. I only
sometimes
mean to offend. For example, I might use a perfectly inoffensive phrase, like
lick a problem
, which is what you do when you solve a dilemma. Harmless enough, right? And yet from the lips of the wrong person, taken in just the wrong way, at just the wrong time, a phrase like that can appear lewd or suggestive, and far be it from me to appear lewd or suggestive. Same goes for
blow a chance
, which is what you do when you let an opportunity pass you by. Put a negative spin on that one and you might raise a few eyebrows, or start looking for some prep school WASP named Chance and wondering why he gets so much head.
Come into money
 … that's another one that might give me some trouble. I could be writing a perfectly innocent sentence about shooting my wad into a pile of cash, and readers might get the wrong idea, so it'll be good to have another set of professional eyes on this thing.

So where was I? Oh, yeah. My book. The bound stack of paper or digital e-file you hold in your hands. Of course, I'm not so full of myself to expect this book to be another
Crime and Punishment
. (Hopefully, it won't feel so long.) (Plus, I hear the ending on that one is kind of a bummer.) My goals are fairly modest, actually. Writers are always saying that when you write an essay or a paper you should have a clear goal in mind. You should have some idea what you want to say, and some idea how to say it. I'm not quite there yet, but I do know this: I want people to read this book and come away thinking it wasn't a waste of their time or money.

I set the bar high, I know, but that's just me. At the very least, I want the book to be the literary equivalent of a slice of pizza and a grape drink. That's all. It might not be a gourmet meal, but it should at least be filling. The drink is just water, sugar and food coloring. The pizza is just okay, but it tastes all right and is somewhat satisfying.

So here's your slice of pizza and grape drink. I hope it doesn't cause violent vomiting.