Stand-up comedians, when they’re completely out of material, resort to two basic topics: the differences between men and women, and the differences between New York and Los Angeles.
Both of these areas are weighed down with clichés and obvious jokes, so even the laziest comedian is bound to come up with a few original observations. With minimal effort, a comic can convince an audience that they’re actually hearing fresh material, when in fact the comic is just — as we say in the trade — phoning it in.
There are, of course, pretty big differences between the sexes — at least, as we had come to understand the concept of gender between the time of early man and, roughly, 2021. I probably don’t need to illustrate each one of them — and doing so might land me in jail — but they have traditionally boiled down to this: men, when they’re angry, are angry for 30 minutes. Women, when they’re angry, are angry for 30 years. All of the other differences flow from that.
Los Angeles and New York are pretty much the same deal. In Los Angeles, you drive everywhere, do yoga, and wear $600 T-shirts. In New York, you take a cab everywhere, do yoga, and wear $6,000 shoes. Most of a lazy comic’s material uses that basic template, even though it’s sort of an outdated comparison.
I lived in Los Angeles for 30 years and in New York for 10, and it became clear to me that the similarities between the two cities hugely outweigh the differences. Especially in this way: in both cities, when ordinary, decent citizens get behind the wheel of a car, they become enraged sociopaths.
I mean, I hope they do. Otherwise, it’s just me.
When I lived in Los Angeles, I would stroll back to my place in Venice Beach, loose and euphoric from a yoga class. I’d quickly shower and change for work, get behind the wheel still aglow with yogic vibes, and within 30 seconds I’d be screaming insults at the car in front of me, or in the next lane, or three cars ahead at the stoplight, peeling out too slowly for the rest of us to make the green light.
There are close to zero pedestrians in Los Angeles, so I reserve my seething rage for the ones in New York, who dart across the street willy-nilly, zig-zagging around the bike delivery people (who also get a torrent of abuse from me) and the various taxis, Ubers, and public transportation vehicles that clog the streets and keep me from getting across town.
“You drive in New York City?” someone asked me once, in an uncomprehending tone.
I do. New York is, theoretically, an excellent place to drive. Decades of bad press — and the recent imposition of a $9 “congestion fee” — have managed to do an excellent job of keeping the riff-raff off the streets. Not all of it, unfortunately, but you can’t have everything. I’m usually a low-tax-no-tax kind of guy, but I make an exception for certain fees and levies. The “congestion fee” is terrible economics, yes, though it’s tough to argue with slightly easier drives. If I were suddenly appointed chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, I would advocate a hefty tax on high-end restaurants that serve everything family-style and men who wear tank tops on airplanes in the summer.
Last year, I moved to Princeton, New Jersey, a very fancy suburb filled with nice people who stop for pedestrians and wave hello from their cars. In Princeton, we happily wait for the slowpoke in front of us to pull out of the red light, and on the rare times when we tap lightly on the car horn, it’s merely to let the lady with the stroller know that we see her. It’s a delightful, charming town where everything is peaceful and friendly, and I’m a few weeks away from having a massive coronary occlusion thanks to the stress of basically zero stress. I don’t know where to put all of the anger I usually reserve for driving, and I’m worried that it’s going to leap out at the least appropriate time and at some innocent, cheerful neighbor. On the other hand, if I were a stand-up comedian, at least I’d have some fresh material.
Rob Long is a television writer and producer, including as a screenwriter and executive producer on Cheers, and the co-founder of Ricochet.com.
