This morning I had an experience to remember in the elevator, having just been subjected to a very sad occasion on a wet, lukewarm fall afternoon the day before. When I found out about it, I teared up. I liked this guy’s comic genius and I wanted to hear more of it from him, but his diabetes and stroke had other intentions.
It was learned he passed away at 7am, 11.29.11 and he was 41. His name was Patrice O’Neal, a hilarious comedian and actor, and his delivery was one of a kind. He told truths in different ways and allowed his timing to keep you in the moment for the full hour he was on stage. His presence (6’5” (?), 300+ pound man) would be disconcerting in a dark alley, but his smile and diastema made him seem more like Gentle Ben. His subject matter was off-putting for some, while others laughed with him.
Patrice had a special called “Elephant in the Room” on comedy central earlier in the year and he talked about among other things sexual harassment, so the occurrence in the elevator was slightly relevant, well, to me. When a comic dies it hits me HARD, because I know their material and love what they do for a living. They pull me out of a deep hole of depression and there’s no way of saying thanks for that. So a quick payment of respects, if even for a minute, is beyond warranted. There are some entertainers who just memorize other people’s words from a page, go through the motions, and get $20 million a picture. While others who use their own words and start in the filthy comedy clubs that one out of a million make it. Heck, the odds of making it is probably even worse than that.
Patrice was at a show in the audience and he was one of those hecklers that, when a comedian had enough and said “you think you can do better???”, he got out of his seat to prove to the comedian that indeed he WAS and worked the club the next week. It was learned yesterday that THAT was his first experience on stage.
but Patrice had a way of explaining the feelings in his own words that people don’t generally think of when thinking of different subject matter… for instance: sexual harassment. To paraphrase, he said something like this to compare having women work with men but not allow men to harass them: “its like grizzly bears working with salmon… … … covered with honey…” and if you so much as smelled the fish they were off calling HR and having you fired.
I had just watched his “elephant” special yesterday as a way of remembering his genius, and I stepped on to an elevator with two women. This morning I decided to wear my blaze orange knit hat over my cap. The woman standing in front of me had an orange knit sweater on and had struck up a conversation with the woman standing behind me. The woman behind me said to me “you should take off your hat and give it to her because you two match…” and the woman in front of me said “yeah that would be nice”… but I responded to the request by saying “right but if I asked you fto take off your sweater because we matched I’d be getting a call to HR”… the elevator doors opened and they had such a laugh because, well, it was true.
Anyway, I am no Patrice O’Neill, nor O'neal, nor am I a comedian… but I know the man will truly be missed.
III
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