Hey! Who Painted in Here?

When 9/11 happened, I was a senior at the College of William and Mary. My daily job consisted of 1) going to class, 2) doing homework, and 3) making sure Nordberg didn’t spend his whole day phoning it in. It was a simple life, and the only person I had to answer to at the end of my day was myself. When that American tragedy, which will sadly help define my college years, occurred, we greeted a brief era of confusion. On the brink of stepping out into our future lives, something so inexplicable happened that no one knew quite how to act.

Or when to make a joke.

In the weeks that followed, people that spent their lives dispensing comedy for a living had to come to grips with how to make people laugh in a world turned upside down. I remember three people in particular. Jon Stewart spent this first 8 minutes and 52 seconds of his show conveying power and resolve in his personal account. David Letterman returned to the Late Show with calm anger, calling out on display the raw, unfair motives for our attackers’ actions. And from Rockefeller Plaza, Lorne Michaels and Rudi Giuliani teamed up for an enjoyable evening of SNL, allowing America to take a break from holding their breath to laugh at the comedic stylings of Reese Witherspoon, a Celebrity Jeopardy sketch, and Weekend Update’s Jesse Jackson explaining that he plans to go to mediate with the Taliban. In essence, Comedy was the first American institution to fire back at our attackers.

It’s been 5 and a half years since that harrowing month, and a lot has changed in my life. I’ve got a wonderful wife and a beautiful baby. I answer to them with every breath I have – Katie and Clara are the pride of my life. Holy hell, I’m employed, too! (That explains this tie I'm wearing, methinks.) There’s a company out there that has decided that they would like to compensate me for spending the greater part of my weekdays with them. With both my family and my job, I now have a lot of voices to answer to, and it is my goal every day to have those answers. The greatest sense of accomplishment comes with satisfaction of those who rely on me. Oh yeah, I have one more group of people to answer to.

You guys.

The Loyal Readership is composed of family and friends who I have shared my life with, as well as complete strangers who Google search for things like “meat guy song i am” and “Webster, Webster and Cohen”. (Note: The Internet is filled with crazy people.) Since the beginning of YAB, the mission has been a simple one. BRING THE FUNNY.

And with the exception of the saptastic mushfest I wrote about W&M Orientation back in September ’04, we’ve done a pretty good job about that. Writing for YAB has kind of become a second job for me. I feel proud to get a daily post up and I’m hard on myself when I fail to do that. Sure, I could post 23 random links or pictures or news articles to make up the back dating, but I’m a tad on the prideful side and have already sworn to the Comedy Gods that I’d do it the noble way.

So how does one address a national tragedy like the shootings at Virginia Tech, when there’s nothing funny about the loss of innocent life?

I’ve been wrestling with this all week. Through the first five posts, we’ve covered everything from work stuff to Christianity to the ensuing hilarity of my freshman roommate, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t jarred by the actions of one lonely college student and his final rampage. In fact, the only mention of Virginia Tech to date here on YAB, I’m sure, has been some routine comedic pot shots at a former co-worker of mine, who happens to be an alum. I’ve watched other comedy blogs this week try and do the same. Deadspin did it in a classy way, for example.

So rather than glossing over the issue, we’d like to be the Stewart, the Letterman, and the Michaels we so admired back in 2001. I’m just 5 years removed from the type of community the students of Virginia Tech are currently meandering through, and I have not the composure or imagination to even picture this happening to my hallowed halls of Williamsburg, Virginia. Unfortunately, neither did the Hokies. In tribute to those who live on with those feelings I had following September 11th, we’ve changed our colors here at YAB for the weekend. You know, just like Charlie Manuel. (However, we have no intention of completely mismanaging an extra inning game against the Nationals in their honor. That was all Chazz. Instead, we leave you for the weekend with the words of Ryan Miller and Guster.

(On Monday, hilarity will ensue once again.)

“Hang On”
Guster – Ganging Up on the Sun

Here we are outside a novel

Waiting for an end

We don't know the authors or the plot

Maybe someone's writing chapters

For us while we sleep

From a million miles away

Stuck without a captain or a chart

No one seems to know just who to follow anymore

Hang on

Hang on

There's a twilight

A nighttime and a dawn

Who knows

How long

So hang on

Hang on

So we fall inside a forest

Doesn't make a sound

Doesn't seem there's anyone around

Days are long but carry on

We still don't understand

We're a million miles away

Hang on

Hang on

When all is shattered

When all your hope is gone

Who knows

How long

There is a twilight

A nighttime and a dawn

Be brave

Be proud

Hold my hand

Pretend

When your hope is gone

So hang on

Hang on