I’m only posting this because I care about you.

You’ve no doubt been:

Waiting...to hear about what happened...to me...or to him...or if the hat make too much of a statement.

Waiting…to hear about what happened to me…or to him…or if my hat is a bit much.

wondering (about how things turned out for me, not wondering about inane stuff like if they make a phone the thickness of a potato chip, is it baked or fried?)

Wondering…about how things turned out…for me…or him…or if above-the-waist pants will ever make a comeback.

Having difficulty focusing...it's happening now, isn't it?

Having difficulty focusing…it’s happening now, isn’t it?

Well, I’m here to end the madness.

After reading this, you can go back to your normal lives. Good luck with that.

After reading this, you can go back to your normal lives. Good luck with that.

Remember the post I did about the comedian, Gary Gulman?

No? Well, click here to refresh your addled brain.

You didn’t click on the link even if you didn’t remember the post, did you? That’s okay. I understand. You’re busy.

Here’s a synopsis.

  • I love Gary’s smart, observational, self-deprecating humor.
  • I saw him perform live in Portland.
  • He seemed depressed.
  • I was worried.
  • I asked my readers if I should contact him to express my concerns.
  • Many of you shared your advice.

I emailed Gary anyway.

I told him I was a fan in the most complimentary way imaginable. Yada yada yada. And then I wrote this:
Back to Portland, you and me. You didn’t see me, but I saw you…a you I wasn’t expecting. Having seen everything you’ve put out there for audience viewing pleasure, my expectations were through the roof. I should have known better. The Buddha says that all suffering begins with expectations. He’s right.
 
Oh, I laughed plenty. No regrets. I’d buy tickets twice as expensive to see you again tomorrow!
 
Here’s the thing…I can’t stop worrying about you. Is that too weird? It’s the material you did on your depression that’s got me concerned.
 
I was laughing along with everyone else, seeing way too much of my former behaviors in many of the examples you were sharing (the leveling off of the ice cream—it’s good to know I’m not alone!). Then something happened as you kept going on with the theme of depression: I felt myself getting sad.
 
What? Sad? At a comedy club with Gary he-da-main-funny-man-in-da-land Gulman as the headliner? I don’t drink (well, okay, water. I drink water), and let’s say edible marijuana is delightful and totally medicinal (like any flavor of brandy for any ailment, according to my grandmother, God rest her soul), so my sadness wasn’t due to inebriation.
 
My sadness, I believe, was because I felt your pain.
 
Either you are so freaking professional and dedicated to your craft that you became depressed to execute that new material to perfection. If so, may I say to you, Sir, Bravo!
 
Or, you were simply being you and sharing your life with strangers. For an hour or so, we all got to laugh. Almost everyone went home and went back to their lives with a sigh and a few comments about a fun evening. And then there’s me who ruminated for two weeks about whether I should contact you or not.
 
This could go one of four ways:
 
  1. Lorna is crazy. Delete. End of her. Now I’m going to go make myself a bowl of cereal. Reading this email was exhausting.
  2. Lorna is sweet but needs to get a grip because stand-up in a small club is nothing like a Netflix special or appearance on every talk show ever. I’ll have my manager send her a headshot of me with a stamped autograph, that should get her off my case.
  3. Lorna is perceptive and compassionate in addition to being sweet. I’m going to ruminate over what to do about this email. She’ll probably never hear from me, but my intentions were noble.
  4. Lorna is perceptive, compassionate, sweet, and kind of funny. I hope she isn’t considering a career in comedy. It’s not for everyone. I’ll email her pronto to discourage her…but nicely.
 In case you haven’t spent enough time with me, I wrote a blog about you and my dilemma (should I contact you or not?) after seeing your live performance. Here’s the link. You may hear this all the time, but I’ve never written to a celebrity before. 
That’s a lie. I wrote to Ellen DeGeneres once. I’m certain she chose Option 1 above.
No matter what, Gary, I believe in you, and I remain in awe of your wit, intellect, and courage. Next time you’re in Portland, you probably won’t see me, but I’ll definitely see you!
Always, Lorna
A couple of weeks went by. Then I got this response:
Thank you for caring. I will be OK. Happy Holidays.
Gary

I’m not sure what to make of all this.

I lied. I have some theories. Stay tuned…

Darn that Lorna! She's up to her old tricks again. Or is it that she's just older and trickier? Darn that Lorna!

Darn that Lorna! She’s up to her old tricks again. Or is it that she’s just older and trickier? Darn that Lorna!