The Man-Crush Hall of Fame: Andy Kaufman

Thirty years ago today, Andy Kaufman made his eleventh appearance on Saturday Night Live. He wrestled women, as he was prone to do at the time. I also wrestled a woman that day. I was being born.

Exactly twenty years later, on my twentieth birthday (go figure), several of my closest friends from high school and I went to see Jim Carrey portray Andy Kaufman in the biopic Man on the Moon, and my life changed. Yes, Jim Carrey's performance was just that good, but he had phenomenal material to work with, namely the life and antics of one of comedy's most influential, cutting edge voices . . . ever. My exposure to Andy Kaufman's work shaped my opinions of (and attempted participation in) entertainment and news media. He was a force to be reckoned with then, and in light of theories that he faked his death as the ultimate put-on, he's a force to be reckoned with now.

According to Bob Zmuda's biography of Kaufman (pictured here on my desk next to fellow man-crush Les Stroud), Andy didn't perform his stand-up comedy and variety acts to entertain others; he simply sought to entertain himself. While his humor seemed to be at others' expense, Bob was often a plant with whom the audience could sympathize, making Andy (or his counterpart Tony Clifton) the villain -- and Andy understood that the bad guy is often the most compelling character of all. His love of this old vaudevillian rapport with the house didn't jive with audiences then, and I don't think audiences would get it now, but knowing just that much about the man behind the curtain only makes his work that much more impressive.

In 2004, I had the chance to attend the 20th anniversary "celebration" of Andy's death at the House of Blues in Hollywood. Comedians like Jim Norton performed, Tony Clifton made an honorable appearance, and afterward hangers-on were treated to a Mexican wrestling show at the Comedy Store across the street. (Actually, true believers that stayed until the wee hours were treated to more than that, but I was foolish enough to go home and miss out.) Just this year, on December 3, I had the chance to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of Andy's death with a special screening of Dear Andy Kaufman, I Hate Your Guts! at the Silent Movie Theater, a montage of rare Kaufman clips hosted by his girlfriend Lynne Margulies. Tony Clifton made a substantially hilarious appearance (you can find it on YouTube), as did Andy Dick and Zmuda, who shared in fans' speculation about Andy's death. Lynne (and Bob) was kind enough to sign my copy of her latest book, a compilation of angry letters Andy received while wrestling women in the '70s. I actually found out about this event when The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson e-mailed me an offer to see another taping and I sought other events in the area to make the drive to Hollywood worthwhile. Obviously, like when I saw Man on the Moon ten years ago, it was meant to be.



So what makes Andy Kaufman a worthy man-crush, not to mention a place in my man-crush hall of fame? Simply put, Andy developed a conscious philosophy about entertainment and pop culture that fueled his career, and more so than any genre of comedy or performance art, he upheld that philosophy until his controversial dying day -- to the point where some folks don't believe he died! He transcended traditional stand-up, was more than any sitcom or sketch show could bare, and blazed a trail so daring few others have walked it as successfully since.

As much as I love pop culture entertainment, this mentality -- the philosophy turned lifestyle -- applies to all things: for me personally, my life has been an attempt to preserve the sanctity, innocence, and wonder of childhood, firstly by maintaining the same likes and hobbies I had as a kid, and secondly by finding a job that helps me inspire others to this philosophy. Today, on my thirtieth birthday, the first day of the rest of my life, I'm faced with the challenge of finding other ways to do that. Andy Kaufman showed us that the sky's the limit -- you can go beyond the sky, in fact. You can be the man on the moon.

In the meantime, Merry Russmas, and enjoy this gift, which may or may not be related to that fateful day I met Andy.

My Man-Crushes Manifest: David Gray & Craig Ferguson Live!

UPDATE: David Gray appeared on Craig Ferguson's show Friday, November 20! Regarding David's English heritage, Craig said he's "one of the good ones." I love it! Check out the video, then read on about my week with these two man-crushes o' mine!





Back on September 22, I celebrated the release of David Gray's latest album Draw the Line and Craig Ferguson's autobiography American On Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot by dubbing both men my latest man-crushes. Well, if you thought I was excited that day, imagine the heights of my fanboy ecstasy as I saw both of them live this week! Yes, I had the pleasure of attending David Gray's concert at Los Angeles' Orpheum Theater on Monday, and, with Veterans' Day off from work, I seized the rare available weekday to reserve tickets for a taping of The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Both opportunities offered a sense of comprehensive appreciation for these guys' work, and of unexpected fulfillment for liking them so much in the first place.



The David Gray concert on Monday, November 9, was sold out, but I acquired my ticket through a Craigslist contact that opted for the impromptu Band of Horses show that night instead. (Thanks again, Erykah!) My friend Jennie joined me, and we waited in line and enjoyed the swanky digs of the Orpheum before Gray's opening act, Lisa Hannigan, took the stage. Lisa reminded me of a more eclectic Dolores O'Riordan (from the Cranberries), as she played a variety of stringed instruments and closed her set with a rockin' cover of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus." Fortunately, it wasn't long after that my evening's savior took the stage . . .



. . . and I was pleased that Gray started his set with "First Chance," since I'm a sucker for wordplay. Amazingly, he found just the right balance between new material and the hits his fans would want to hear -- though thanks to my listening to Draw the Line several times a week already, I'm a fan of it all. Highlights included an extended ending to "Nemesis," which Gray introduced as a very personal tune, a simple yet poignantly effective light show to "Slow Motion," and a stripped down version of "Ain't No Love," which kicked off his shorter encore set and admittedly brought tears to my eyes. Hey, it ain't called a man-crush for nothin', okay?! In the end, we heard all of the songs that have achieved radio play in the past few years, and over half of the new album -- but, of course, I was left wanting more. Leave it to a master performer like David Gray to know when to draw the line.



On Wednesday, my friend and coworker Konrad and I left Orange County around 1:30 p.m. to get to Craig Ferguson's 3:30 p.m. taping, and after navigating the labyrinth of one-way streets and full parking lots around the CBS Studios in Hollywood, we managed to get in the end of the line just in time to make the cut of 108 attendees. (I don't know if anyone was cut, but that sounds pretty dramatic, right?) The audience warm-up guy, Chunky B, joined us downstairs before we entered the studio, and amusingly talked about the importance of Veterans' Day, how he needed us to help Craig, a proactive American citizen, make dynamic television that night. As he put it, we weren't watching TV -- that afternoon, we were TV. Surely not as important as military service, but I took the responsibility pretty seriously . . .

. . . and by seriously, I mean not seriously at all, as we were frequently encouraged to laugh loudly, even if Chunky's jokes weren't that funny. Konrad commented on the awkwardness of being demanded to have a good time, and I agree that it's ironic, but, hey, that's show business, baby. Eventually, Craig came out to deliver his monologue, which included commentary about Polish Independence Day and the recent inductees into the Toy Hall of Fame. Now, I'm both Polish and an avid toy collector, so I could think of few other monologues that could've been more perfect for me to witness in person. After the monologue, and then in between tapings for segments, Craig talked to the audience as a whole, and while he offered no chance to get an autograph, he was nevertheless charming and sincere. Indeed, he was a gracious host in every sense of the word.

So, two man-crushes in one week. Only in Los Angeles, eh? Both experiences were unique yet united by my unadulterated excitement at the chance to see these masters of their respective crafts in person, if only as part of a larger audience. Perhaps that's the best way to do it -- to experience these shows in the midst of others that might feel the same way. Vindication isn't too far a leap from the realm of entertainment, right? Further, and finally, the chance to see them live, to catch any flaws or vulnerabilities in their performances, only makes their significance as male role models that much more poignant. After all, what better evidence is there than a peek behind the scenes to prove that their work is worthy of getting under my skin?

The Man-Crush Hall of Fame: David Letterman

Back in the primitive year of 2007, I consciously decided to publicly proclaim my appreciation for six male celebrities and their distinctive masculinity. Those celebrities were:



Duane "Dog the Bounty Hunter" Chapman
Vincet D'Onofrio
Chris Hanson
Joel McHale
Gordon Ramsey
Mr. T

Of course, things change in just two years, so I recently began revising this list of Man-Crushes, so far including:



Craig Ferguson
David Gray
Gordon Ramsey
Mr. T

Since I've vowed to retain only seven man-crushes at a time, making the list somewhat exclusive and contemporary, who among Chapman, D'Onofrio, Hanson, and McHale will make the cut remains to be seen. However, I have recently decided that I must also create a Man-Crush Hall of Fame, honoring male celebrities that I admired in my youth and continue to respect today. These men demonstrate such unapologetic masculinity that they transcend the three categories I've assigned to my regular man-crush list and establish a lifelong standard all their own. My inaugural choice for the Man-Crush Hall of Fame is one I made several months ago, and in light of current events, now deserves mention and description. Yes, the first man to enter my Man-Crush Hall of Fame is . . . David Letterman.

More than once, David Letterman was the only friend I had on New Year's Eve. Before he became Jay Leno's late night rival, Dave followed Johnny Carson on NBC with Late Night with David Letterman, the show then-rookie Conan O'Brien took over in 1993. Yes, more than once, I rang in an Arizona new year with Dave (and once, I vividly remember, a whole bucket of fried chicken), since his show was on at midnight. Before his move to CBS, Dave was like a real life cartoon character, his wide, circular glasses and informal khaki pants mere accessories to his exaggerated facial expressions and wacky themed segments. His interview style threw reverence to the wind and was all Bugs Bunny on Elmer Fudd, comically combative and ultimately harmless. Obviously intended for a younger audience, I don't know if Dave sought emulation from an eleven-year-old kid like me, but he got it anyway.



When Johnny Carson retired and Jay Leno won the Tonight Show mantle in '93 (the same year I started high school), CBS offered a jilted Letterman a prestigious opposing show, and Dave classed up the joint when he moved into America's homes an hour earlier. Since then, The Late Show with David Letterman has been a comforting, reliable influence in my life, primarily as a source for hilarious daily commentary and raucous, ridiculous comedy. In 1994, I visited my father in New York, got my picture taken with Hello Deli's Rupert Jee, and saw Patrick Stewart entering the Ed Sullivan Theater, then in '99, I saw a live taping. My sophomore year of high school, I joined the media club and I began reading weekly top 10 lists for our campus's televised announcements and was quickly dubbed "Top 10 Boy." As if to seal the deal, when I finally discovered Frank Miller's definitive Batman work The Dark Knight Returns, I was delighted to behold Dave's cameo -- a crossover with reality that secured Letterman's iconic place as my comedic hero.





I didn't realize just how important Dave had become in pop culture and the American landscape at large until his heart surgery in 2000. Then, after September 11, his somber reflections as a New York commuter gripped me more than any supposedly objective newscaster dared. During the writers' strike in 2007, The Late Show was the first to make a deal and return to air, and Dave's "strike beard" was a more shocking statement than any picket sign those writers cleverly penned. However, Letterman's personal life is most striking to me; Bill O'Reilly has frequently dubbed him a celebrity recluse, yet the details of Dave's personal life have always been forefront, usually thanks to his gossip-dodging transparency. I mean, Dave had a suicidal stalker in the '80s, frequently speaks openly of his surgery from 2000, talks proudly of his son Harry, and invites us into his mother's home every Thanksgiving to play "guess the pie." Further, like many others, my mouth hung open when he nonchalantly announced his matrimony on March 23, shrouded in a congratulatory note to the also newly wedded Bruce Willis. Sure, Dave isn't often caught in front of the paparazzi cameras, but he has a camera to himself every night that he uses just as candidly.

Ah, and October 1's episode was no exception. Like the other landmark Letterman episodes, I almost missed it if not for happenstance; in this case, the nightly news' teased an extortion attempt against him. I watched reverently as Dave explained the strange plot as best he could, concluding with his confession of infidelity with female members of his staff, and in the moments afterward, I silently renewed my vow to forever be a fan. See, as I heard Los Angeles talk radio personality Dave McIntyre explain, Letterman isn't really in charge of anything important. He's an entertainer, and his private life is ultimately inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. I agree, but I admire Letterman, so why hasn't his sex scandal embittered me? Well, unlike politicians caught in similar schemes (incidentally, politicians are in charge of things), Dave confessed to his personal crimes and apologized to anyone it has adversely affected. Just as his heart surgery exposed his mortality, this latest development exposes his morality, and the man frequently, publicly struggles with both. Who am I to question his struggle, and make it worse by joining him in it?

Finally, and most importantly, Dave did not let his now scandalous personal life get in the way of doing his job. He didn't cancel his show and call a press conference, or schedule a heart-wrenching interview with Barbara Walters. Dave used his show as a personal forum to explain his misconduct in an honest, self-abashing humorous way, then proceeded business as usual. That's the lesson -- always has been. Jay Leno gets your dream job. Heart surgery. Whether or not it floats. September 11th. Sex scandal. Pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and go to work.

With almost 30 years on television, I can't think of a better time to be a David Letterman fan. Just a few weeks ago, he interviewed the President of the United States, for crying out loud. His production company introduced fellow man-crush Craig Ferguson to the world of late night, and it is so much better for it. You remember that Craig spoke at the White House Correspondents' Dinner last year and just released his autobiography, right? Dave's longtime partner, Paul Shaffer, recently released a memoir about his career in the music industry, too. Now, we watch a television icon overcome some personal hardship -- again -- the best way anyone can . . . by telling jokes at others' expense. Since I was eleven, Dave's been one of the funniest guys I know, and that was me finding him over ten years into his career. Now, closing in on thirty years? That's as long as Johnny Carson was the host of The Tonight Show! Everything else be damned. Has any celebrity been anything for almost 30 years, let alone hilarious? And the number one reason Dave is in my Man-Crush Hall of Fame is? Just that.

My Man-Crushes 2009: David Gray & Craig Ferguson Double Feature!

Today, Tuesday, September 22, is a special day for four distinct reasons: (1.) It's the first day of autumn, though one wouldn't know it from summer's tenacious grip on southern California, (2.) my birthday is exactly three months away, (3.) David Gray's new album, Draw the Line, comes out today, and (4.) so does Craig Ferguson's new book, American on Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot. Interestingly, I had already planned on dubbing both Gray and Ferguson current man-crushes, so to celebrate their latest contributions to pop culture I offer a man-crush double feature!

David Gray

Contemporary Influence: David Gray had been making music long before his single "Babylon" achieved regular radio play, but that hit single put Gray on the map -- and rightfully so, as "Babylon" betrays the introspection, urban plight, and clever word play that infuses many of Gray's best songs. Although few other singles of his have enjoyed as much American air play, Gray's songs have been used frequently in film and on television; recently, I heard "As I'm Leaving" playing during a promo for William Peterson's final episode of CSI. That track was from Gray's Lost Songs album, released in the States after "Babylon" and White Ladder started making serious waves. If even a lost song can get that kind of attention, who knows what David might accomplish when the world finally finds what he's capable of?

Practical Knowledge of the Opposite Sex: While most mainstream musicians boast knowledge of the opposite sex by way of the love ballad, David Gray is bold enough to lyrically document the hard times, too. Consider the lines: "And honey please don't stop your talking/'Cos there's a feeling won't leave me alone/What we gonna do when the money runs out/I wish that there was something left to say/How we gonna find the eyes to see/a brighter day?" If women like their men to emote, it doesn't get more emotional than that -- but in a definitively masculine way, mind you, as nothing frustrates a man more than a lack of tangible solutions. Thankfully, despite his name, Gray is one to pay less attention to the dark cloud and more its silver lining, as he proclaims, "Tell the repo man/And the stars above/That you're the one I love." In other words, no matter what this world may take away, there's no ceiling to true love. Even fools know that this what women want to hear, but only a David Gray can put it so eloquently.

Global Significance: Did you know that White Ladder is still the best selling album of all time in Ireland? Yes, the same way we Americans love Michael Jackson's Thriller or Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, the Irish love White Ladder (which may explain my affinity for it, as well). More so than that, as I mentioned earlier, Gray's ongoing themes are a bit more transcendent than your usual top 40s fare, and I submit for your consideration this live version of "Ain't No Love," my favorite of his songs. In three short verses, Gray muses about urban life, creativity, love, and religion, all in an introspective attempt to explain his direction (or lack thereof?) in life. Who can't relate to that?



Moved? Now, if you act fast, you may be able to acquire David's latest single, "Fugitive," at Starbucks for free via their free iTunes Pick of the Week!

Craig Ferguson

Contemporary Influence: I love late night television, and when done properly I believe it can be both a humorously seasoned synopsis of any given day and a timeless piece of pop culture entertainment. Every weeknight, Craig Ferguson embraces this opportunity wholeheartedly, balancing vaudevillian comedy via puppets and impromptu self-deprivation with relevant expositions on current events, like his recent rant about Congressman Joe Wilson's calling President Obama a liar. Consider this introduction from his September 11th episode, which combines these two elements in a virtual politically puppeted cartoon!



As an aside, Craig shamefully mentions in his book that the Monkees' Headquarters album was the first vinyl he ever owned, and it's the one I have signed by three out of four Monkees themselves! It doesn't get any more personal than that!

A Practical Understanding of the Opposite Sex: As I said, Craig's new autobiography dropped today, and as a celebrity boasting the addictions of his past in the same context as his bid for American citizenship, he probably could've appeared on any talk show to promote his book. So, where did he show up this morning? The View. Yes, his Scottish accent wooed the ladies of The View, and their natural feelings-oriented line of questioning was the perfect forum for Craig to express his former weaknesses and future career hopes and speculations. In other words, even in light of his latest success, Craig put the ladies first -- and in the morning, to boot!

Global Significance: From what I understand, Craig is a Scotsman that came to the United States in a drunken, drug-addled stupor in a mad quest for fame and celebrity -- and he eventually found it by shamelessly shedding his vices. He's often spoke of his first trip to America with his father, to New York, of course, where he vowed to return one day. This is the American dream for so many folks around the world -- that the U.S. is a land of first and second chances -- and we naturally born citizens take that for granted. That Craig takes any opportunity to share his joy at being American, from speaking at the President's White House Correspondence Dinner last year to nightly on CBS, proves he is a true patriot, indeed. Just look up his latest tattoo if you need any more proof!

There you have it: two more Europeans on my list of man-crushes (Gordon Ramsey being the first, of course). I'm grateful they're so eager to come to the U.S. and share their talent, but where are the American-bred icons? Is reality television so saturating the potential for homemade heroes that I must look overseas for masculine role models? Time will tell . . .