Bob Smith is a stand up comedian who’s tasted a little of the limelight and done so as an openly gay man. He must be applauded for this, as there are so few in the entertainment industry. As a comic, he’s probably a good one, although you cannot easily glean that from the writing itself, since he rarely quotes from his actual monologues. However, his writing presents itself as an almost endless stream of good joke material. It is reasonable to expect that a truly good comic cannot leave his work at the office at the end of the day. Yet Smith finds the funny and the absurd all around him, usually without much effort.
The first and last chapters provide the richest insight into the source of what must be his best comic material. These chapters center on his family (which he ponders whether the word “dysfunctional” adequately describes). Particular emphasis is given to his mother, who can say some of the most astonishing things. The remaining chapter breaks act as a transporter device which randomly deposits the reader into different points and places along his life. Although other books might suffer from being such a ramshackle in structure, this is a book by a stand up comic, and it feels somehow appropriate.
The book has many very useful observations and advice, and usually is downright funny. Smith’s delicious vocabulary adds delightfully to chapters which, on the one hand may feel like a fleshed-out and scenic monologue, while on the other hand, feel like advice and commentary from a friend. His conversion of the abstract into the tangible is simply wonderful.
However, the book suffers on two fronts. First, it becomes rapidly clear that Smith’s best material comes from the relatives, friends, and employers he’s come into contact with. The book comes off at times as an endless parade of new faces that surface for their comic value (which usually means either they’re overweight or they’ve said or done something utterly foolish), then are never to be seen again. Second, a great deal of time was devoted to the bad aspects of his relationship with Tom. Yet, their meeting was only an offhand remark, and no mention was ever given to other things, such as their courting, first kiss, falling in love, moving in together, ring buying, and so on. It is hard to imagine that all of these happier times were somehow devoid of good joke material. In this way, Smith comes off as the lousy friend who only calls when times are bad, yet disappears when times are good. In that respect, this reader felt a little cheated.