Annmarie Throckmorton, M.A.
- Sep 8, 2018

Putting The Kibosh On Smut

Some years ago friends talked me into going to see Jeff Goldblum’s live comedy act. I did not like the actor based on his careless work in Jurassic Park and Independence Day, but I went because I liked my friends. I wore my new custom-printed T-shirt that had the very happy face of my little dog with her heart-shaped name tag "BIG"! Everyone liked that T-shirt!

Less than two minutes into Jeff Goldblum’s routine I realized what a mistake I had made. His act was gratuitously, unhumorously blue. It was old-timey smut, smut, smut with some ancient dirt on the side. It was grossly indecent. Still, the audience was young, drunk, and enthusiastic. They started off laughing and clapping at every punch line. I just did not want to, so I did not. I sat quietly with my hands in my lap and my eyes anywhere else but on Mr. Foul Mouth.

Any comedian working a small room will soon notice when someone is not participating in their adulation, especially if the rest of the audience also begins to wane in their appreciation. By the end of Jeff Goldblum’s set, no one was applauding him. I do not know exactly how or why this happened, but I do remember being relieved that the room was not so noisy, and wondering if my disapproving attitude had squelched them. Surely it was not possible for one party pooper to subdue an entire audience ready for a good time? At the end of his act Jeff Goldblum seemed to think so. While our group stood waiting to file out the exit, Jeff Goldblum hovered at the edge of the stage. He look directly at me and snarled, “I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!” just as the Wicked Witch of the West had threatened Dorothy in the Wizard Of Oz movie, except that Jeff Goldblum turned aside and mumbled something other than “my pretty”, maybe the C-word. He did not like me one bit. Good. Now we were even. Except not quite. If you think about it, he owed me a refund, because I did not get any laughs for my money, except maybe the last laugh. Jeff Goldblum watched for a reaction from me. When I slyly made no reaction whatsoever, he murmured to himself, "Well, maybe not." as in his bombing that evening was maybe not my fault. Ah, but it was!