Part 17 (1/2)

The whole experience was surprisingly serene. Maybe it was because the Oprah footage was ”in the can” and my heart could stop eating itself. Maybe it was because I was safe at the side of my sweet friend Amy. Maybe it was because I knew I couldn't get fired because I didn't even work there anymore anyway. Obviously a big part of it was that Seth had written a very good sketch. I was not nervous at all, and doing that sketch on live TV was a pure joy I had never before experienced as a performer.

Here is the sketch...

This sketch easily could have been a dumb catfight between two female candidates. What Seth and Amy wrote, however, was two women speaking out together against s.e.xism in the campaign. In real life these women experienced different sides of the same s.e.xism coin. People who didn't like Hillary called her a ballbuster. People who didn't like Sarah called her Caribou Barbie. People attempted to marginalize these women based on their gender. Amy's line ”Although it is never s.e.xist to question female politicians' credentials” was basically the thesis statement for everything we did over the next six weeks. Not that anyone noticed. You all watched a sketch about feminism and you didn't even realize it because of all the jokes. It's like when Jessica Seinfeld puts spinach in kids' brownies. Suckers!

That night's show was watched by ten million people, so I guess that director at The Second City who said the audience ”didn't want to see a sketch with two women” can go s.h.i.+t in his hat.

The next day's birthday party was also successful and, I believe, had an equal impact on the 2008 presidential campaign. Special thanks to my sister-in-law Dee, who brought macaroni and cheese, and Jessie, who made jerk chicken. Here is a now-historic photo of my friend Michael's pirate s.h.i.+p cake.

The next few weeks were very exciting. On Wednesday, my daughter started preschool. The Sunday after that, 30 Rock won seven Emmys. Meanwhile, once a week, I went to my goof-around night job and did these sketches, and this is what I remember about them.Week 2: Katie Couric Interviews Sarah Palin

I think Amy would want me to say she's very pregnant in this photo.

Seth had originally written a piece with Sarah Palin ”in one,” which means by herself, talking straight to the camera. I asked if we could change it so I could be with Amy again. Since my background

is improvisation and not stand-up, I really prefer the buddy system on stage. The Katie Couric interview was basically a sketch handed to us on a plate.

Seth quickly wrote a draft, and because I was watching Mrs. Palin over and over again on YouTube to try to improve the impression, I asked Seth if I could put in this long rambling run about the bailout that was mostly just transcribed.

By the second week, I realized what made this experience so fun and different. For the first time ever, I was performing in front of an audience that wanted to see me. I had spent so many years handing out fliers, begging people to check out my improv team. I was so used to trying to win the audience over or just get permission to be there that a willing audience was an incredible luxury. It was like having a weight lifted off you. I thought, ”This must be what it's like for Darrell when he plays Bill Clinton.” Or for Tracy Morgan when he does anything. People are just happy to see them.Week 3: The Vice Presidential Debate

This was my favorite sketch, and there are three reasons why.

One, I felt like I contributed a lot of jokes to this one, so my writer ego likes it the best.

Two, Queen Latifah was there.

Three, I thought the speeches that Jim Downey wrote for Jason Sudeikis as Joe Biden were brilliant. Especially the stuff where Biden is trying to prove that he's not some Was.h.i.+ngton elite by talking about how he's from Scranton, Pennsylvania, ”the most G.o.dforsaken place on earth.” I thought that was ingenious, because not only was the ad hominem attack on Scranton a hilarious comedy left turn, it also exemplified what the election had become. Instead of talking about issues, everybody was trying to prove how ”down-home” they were. ”I'm just like you” was the subtext of every speech.

Politics and prost.i.tution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? ”I'm not one of those fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I'm just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and I'd like to cut your chest open.” The crowd cheers.

Two jokes I remember writing for the debate sketch are this one about global warming: Gwen Ifill

Senator Palin, address your position on global warming and whether you think it's man-made or not.

Gov. Sarah Palin

Gwen, we don't know if this climate change hoozie-what's-it is man-made or if it's just a natural part of the ”End of Days.”

And this one:

Gwen Ifill

Governor Palin, would you extend same-s.e.x rights to the entire country?

Gov. Sarah Palin

You know, I would be afraid of where that would lead. I believe marriage is meant to be a sacred inst.i.tution between two unwilling teenagers.

This joke about the ”sacred inst.i.tution of marriage” was probably the roughest joke we did.”Rough” in sketch comedy language means harsh or dark. As I'm sure you remember, Mrs. Palin's daughter Bristol was pregnant at the time and engaged to her high school boyfriend Levi Johnston. This joke was right on the edge of being too directly about the Palin family. I felt, however, that because Bristol's pregnancy and subsequent engagement had been embraced by so many people as a s.h.i.+ning example of the pro-life movement, it was officially part of the campaign. Also, the joke wasn't that rough. An example of a truly rough joke would be this: