RONNY AND ME
The Special Olympics of Comedy
Ronny Weintraub is this 41-year-old retarded guy who I always see at my shows at Caroline’s Comedy Club. He’s a kind of fixture there. In their minds, he’s a retarded adult who they tolerate and allow to watch the shows as long as he behaves himself. In his mind, he is a big time, hot-shit manager who is scouting for new talent and IF he likes you, you MIGHT just get the break of your life!
He always talks to me after my shows. Each time it’s the same—he likes what he sees and he’s seriously thinking about taking me on as a client—?you’re getting really good—really good. Strong stuff,? etc. After a while, he started adding, ?I love you, Sarah,? and, ?You’re my friend!? (which is the calling card for retarded adults and, coincidentally, the average Hollywood suit). I can’t tell you how many showbiz execs are more then willing to tell you they love you if it will get them what they want or, more accurately, what their bosses want. Normal adult humans on one side, retarded adults and the Hollywood elite on the other.
Ronny talks too loud in the showroom and people really can’t stand him, which was made clear to me when I showed up to sponsor him at the Special Olympics. The people who ran it took me aside and apologized for me being placed with him. I said defensively, "I wasn’t placed with him, asshole, he’s my friend." If he never was before, suddenly he was my friend. Funny how it sometimes takes outside shit to define our relationships or ourselves, i.e. never feeling like a Jew until you’re surrounded by gentiles. Or never feeling like a woman until you’re hired at SNL. So, now Ronny is my friend, and FUCK YOU for apologizing for him. Like the other retards are less obnoxious. OK, maybe they are less obnoxious—as a matter of fact, maybe most of them are downright adorable. But they aren’t in fucking SHOW BUSINESS like Ronny! They don’t "get it."
It is true what they say, though, retarded people are totally inspiring. They believe anything is possible. They never get jaded. And their simple joys seem really Buddha-y. They’re like gawky, disproportionate, whacky Buddhas and I like them a lot.
SARAH SILVERMAN
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