"I'm so hungry I could eat at Arby's."

While driving home tonight, I strayed from my usual route of Melrose and, instead, decided to drive down Sunset. I passed by what is most likely the only Arby's in the Los Angeles county area and I laughed out loud. This is what I usually do when something in our world reminds me of a funny moment from that alternate reality known as The Simpsons.

My roommate Tony and I don't have cable. We haven't even bothered purchasing rabbit ear antennas. Mostly because we know that, if we had cable or any kind of TV, we probably wouldn't get anything done. Ever. Besides, Tony owns the first nine seasons of The Simpsons and, when we need to blow off some stress and just veg, these TV treasures do the trick.

I recently re-watched the episode Das Bus (a delicious play on the movie title "Das Boot" about a submarine adventure) where the kids from Springfield Elementary are escorted to the Model UN conference by Otto in the notorious Springfield Elementary Bus. As usual, everything goes horribly wrong. An accident occurs involving a grapefruit (what else?) and causes the bus to crash in the ocean. Springfield, in case you didn't know, is conveniently located near an ocean, a gorge, the Murderhorn mountain and the Alkali Salt Flats. I wish I could flim a movie there.

Fortunately, there is also a deserted island in Springfield's ocean. The kids all survive the accident and arrive to the island safely -- a little worse for wear.

After a long day of searching for food and failed attempts at building tree houses ala Swiss Family Robinson (only with more cursing) the kids sit around a late night campfire, bemoaning their less than enviable situation. Sherri or Terri (one is never sure who is who with the devious twins in Bart's class) speaks up and says "I'm so hungry I could eat at Arby's."

All the kids respond in a unanimous chorus of growns and exasperation -- as though eating an Arby's roast beef sandwich is possibly the most extreme example of what one would be driven to consume in the desperate search for sustenance. Eating Arby's would even be worse than eating the poisonous berries that Ralph Wiggum had the misfortune of consuming earlier (which results in one of Ralph's most popular quotes "It tastes like burning.")

But why is this off hand remark funny? What about it, specifically, makes me giggle every time I think of Arby's?

I think one of the most important elements of comedy is that of identification. If we feel personally invested in the joke -- if there is something that we can identify with, it is going to be light years funnier than something that is obscure or unknown. In an increasingly fragmented society, it is often hard to find things that we all share. This is why a lot of comedy these days relates to elements of our popular culture such as train wreck celebrities and politicians.

The thing I think Sherri or Terri articulated here is something we have all experienced at least once in our lives: bad, stomach churning fast food -- Arby's being the target of choice for this particular observation. Identifying with this opinion is essential in this joke. And the writer’s have bet that, given all the crappy fast food in the world, the majority of people have most likely had at least one bad Arby’s experience in their life.

Also, “Arby's” is kind of a funny word if you think about it. It SOUNDS funny. One imagines that, in the writer's room, there was a list of bad fast food restaurants -- some obscure chains only in certain parts of the country and some ubiquitous options such as McDonald's which are present world wide. None of the other names probably sounded as funny. Arby's seems like a good choice when placed next to titles like McDonald's and KFC. It’s obscure, but not too obscure. Most people who've eaten there probably did it on a cross country trip at some point. Something so common as McDonald’s would not have been as successful a target just because so many people eat there consistently.

And it helps that the food at Arby's is, for the most part, terrible. The restaurant chain is one of the few holdouts for “terrible for you” fast food, hopelessly stuck twenty years in the past. Arby’s food appeals mostly to those with a death wish. Arby’s has not attempted an image make over like McDonald’s or KFC (remember when it was called Kentucky Fried Chicken?) I’m guessing that not one healthful food is offered there.

Even if you like Arby’s the joke is still funny. There is a good chance that all of us, at some point, did have a bad fast food experience that resulted in an episode not unlike Ralph's where we're doubled over, cursing the very existence of the offending sustenance.

I can't leave out significance of Sherri (or Terri) uttering these precious words. These ladies are tangential characters in the world of The Simpsons -- usually they are introduced when Bart needs some harassment. And any time a character who is often silent speaks up, there is greater attention paid to what they're saying. The Arby's dig is easily something that Bart could have said, but hearing it come from Sherri (or Terri) makes it more surprising and, as a result, more funny. I might call this the element of surprise.

So next time you feel the desire to eat at Arby’s remember Sherri or Terri’s warning and eat some burning berries instead.

Chow!

Why Things Are Funny -- An Introduction

Recently, I’ve been trying my hand at writing sketch comedy. I took a shine to it after taking a class at The Upright Citizen’s Brigade here in Los Angeles.

After being formally instructed in some of the basic rules of sketch, I realized that I had been giving myself a lesson in it all my life.

My parents were both college professors growing up and used to take my sister and me on epic cross country adventures which translated into days spent sitting in the backseat of a car. When we finally got a car with an eight track player (yes, I’m THAT old), one of the first purchases my mother made was Steve Martin’s comedy concert album “Wild and Crazy Guy.” I’m not sure how sound a parenting decision that was given some of Mr. Martin’s jokes, but it didn’t really matter since I wasn’t really aware of the different uses of the word “diaphragm.”

All that I and my sister, Cathy, cared about was if what we were listening to was funny and, after just a few listens to Wild And Crazy Guy, Cathy and I knew we had struck comedic gold and we promptly started memorizing this comedic tour de force. To this day, elements of the bit turn up in our coast to coast conversations. (“What happened? What happened? He spoke French. Help him!”)

Bill Cosby was another popular 8 track cassette, but Bill never really had the resonance for me that Steve Martin did. The off the wall humor and his emphasis on the humor of language was something that was deeply satisfying to the son and daughter of an English Professor and a Psychology Professor.

After we got a car with a cassette player, we moved on to Monty Python, Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon and others.

Since I’ve been driving my own car, I’ve been continuing to collect comedy by some of my favorites like Sandra Bernhard. I’ve also spent the last decade of my life memorizing the first 8 seasons of The Simpsons.

Recently, I downloaded some of my favorite bits from the boys of Monty Python. They are still as funny to me today as they were when we were traveling the back roads of Wisconsin. This got me wondering: What makes something timelessly funny? What are the mechanics behind the comic devices? What are the tools that these writers, performers and directors use so successfully to make us laugh so consistently – even year later? I hope that, by asking myself these questions and looking for the answers, I can improve my own writing and, perhaps, achieve a fraction of the brilliance of my comedic heroes.

In the coming entries, I plan on taking one stand up routine, movie, scene from a movie, song or YouTube clip and break it down joke by joke as a way to find out “Why Things Are Funny.”

Won’t you come on this journey with me?