04-06-2005, 05:32 PM
This past Tuesday, April 5, 2005, Mike Birbiglia phoned in to the nationally syndicated Bob and Tom show to deliver his weekly "Secret Public Journal" reading. Instead of the usual hillarity, the listeners received a touchingly funny and heartfelt tribute to the late great Mitch Hedberg. I have been waiting for Birbiglia to post this to his website since first hearing it, because I knew I had to share it with my friends here.
--Mike Birbiglia's Secret Public Journal
In Memory of Mitch
April 5, 2005
This weekâs Secret Public Journal is dedicated to my friend and comedic hero Mitch Hedberg who died last week at the age of 37. I feel at a loss eulogizing someone I looked up to so much- but Mitch treated all comics the same. It didnât matter if it was Dave Attell or someone who had been doing comedy 3 days.
If you didnât know Mitch, he was a comedian who had long hair over his eyes and wore sunglasses and looked down at the floor and delivered brilliant lines like âI think foosball is a cross between soccer and shishkibobâ¦I used to do drugs. I still do. But I used to, too.â To call him a one liner comic would be a disservice to the strong connection he made with his audience. To Mitch, his jokes were like his children. Some of them were accomplished. Some of them werenât. And some of them didnât even make a lot of sense. But he loved them all equally. He just loved jokes. When people didnât laugh, heâd pause a second and go, âalrightâ¦that joke was ridiculous.â I think some people misunderstood Mitch. Theyâd go: âWhat is he doing? Heâs lying on the floor? Heâs walking behind the curtain.â But that was all part of it. He rode the line of what people considered a show- so no 2 shows were the same. He was the Iggy Pop of comedy. He was a rock-star. He sold out 2 thousand seat theaters without having a sitcom. He was this beacon of hope for real comics that you didnât have to move to Hollywood to become a comedy star.
When I started doing the road 5 years ago, I found out Iâd be opening for Mitch in Dayton, OH. I couldnât believe it. I was struggling to get by but I had that one date circled on my calendar for months. So I show up at the club and they ask me if Iâll pick up Mitch in my car and bring him to the club. And I was in shock. First, because Mitch Hedberg was going to ride in my car. 2nd, that Mitch Hedberg rides in cars at all. I had always kind of envisioned him riding in a spaceship or just kind of teleporting onto stage. So I was taken aback when I picked him up and he and has wife Lynn treated me like an old friend. So we do the shows and later in the week I ask them if they want to go bowling because I had my own bowling shoes. So we go bowling and Iâm so rattled that Iâm bowling with Mitch Hedberg that Iâm awful. Iâm rolling all kinds of 1s and 3s. And I was so embarrassed. And at the end, Mitch said to me: âWhen you said you wanted to go bowling, I thought that you would be good at bowling.â And then weâre waiting in line to pay and there are these teenage girls next to us in line and so to embarrass me, he goes: âdo you think heâs cute?â and they go, âheâs alright.â And then Lynn comes over and talk to Mitch privately and then Mitch comes over and says: âLynn says I should apologize for embarrassing you.â And then there was a pause and I go âMitch, you didnât actually apologize, you just said you were supposed to.â And he was like âHa! Good one.â
That night Mitch was on stage and in the middle of his set he goes âOh no, I got to go to the bathroom. Can someone come on stage and tell a joke?â and there was this long gaping silence. And then heâs like âIâm serious, you guys. I really gotta go.â And itâs still silent. People didnât know what to do. And so Iâm backstage with Lynn and Iâm like, âare you gonna go up?â and she was like, âWill you go?â And I was like, âOK.â And I walk onto stage and he doesnât know Iâm there because his eyes are closed. And I go âMitch, Iâm here.â And heâs like, âOh, thanks man.â And he walks off like this is an everyday thing. And the audience is looking at me and Iâm looking at the audience and weâre all just laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So I just look down at the floor and go: âI am pretty good at tennis, but I will never be as good as the wall. The wall is relentlessâ¦there was a jar of jelly beans at the state fair that said âguess how many and you win the jarâ- I was like âcâmon man, lemme just have some.ââ So then Mitch comes back laughing and says: âAw, man. he did my best jokes.â
I was never quite sure if Mitch and I were friends because he never said much. He rarely talked about himself if at all. But I just felt lucky to be around him. Whenever he spoke, I listened real hard. When I was opening for him on the Comedy Central Live Tour, he offered to come to New York City for the release of my CD at The Comic Strip. I kept giving him an out so that he didnât feel obliged to do it, but he insisted on it. So he flew himself to New York and performed on 2 shows for nothing. I offered to pay him and he kept refusing. He just gave me a hug and walked out the door. The late booker for The Comic Strip Lucien Hold commented that what amazed him most about Mitch was that he had eyes closed on stage yet had the most profound connection with the audience. He didnât see the audience. He felt the audience.
There are all kinds of great stories about Mitch: about how he found out some fans had driven 6 hours to see him, so he got them a hotel room, How George Carlin was once in the audience for one of his shows and said âthat blind guy is amazing,â How he paid for a sold out audience in Pittsburgh to all have shots of tequila. This week Iâve emailed with so many people who are crushed by Mitchâs death. Iâve spoken to people who never met Mitch personally and canât help but start crying in the middle of their day. I feel the same way. Itâs overwhelming. Itâs so sad to lose someone who made so many people happy.
On New Years Eve, I was on an elevator in Kalamazoo, Michigan and this guy goes: âI know you. Youâre that guy on Comedy Central who does that joke about dizzy chickens.â And I go, âNo, thatâs Mitch Hedberg.â And he was like, âoh yea, youâre good too. But that guy is the best.â
I was like âYea, he is.â
Thanks, Mitch. Thanks for being the best.
Love-
Mike
-- After thinking about Mitch's passing for a few days, I finally figured out why it was that I felt so distressed about his death.
If we were to loose the likes of George Carlin or Bill Cosby tomorrow, we would have years and years worth of genius to look back upon in admiration. It would be a great loss to be sure, but we could at least spend some more time with them and their work. But Mitch is different. He only produced two CD's worth of material before he was taken from our lives. He had only made a handfull of television appearances. I desperately hope that there is some footage somewhere that may turn up someday, so that we can spend a few more minutes with this genius. Because the true tragedy of his death is that Mitch Hedberg had so much more to say.
Thanks for the laughs Mitch, you were indeed the best,
Jeremiah
--Mike Birbiglia's Secret Public Journal
In Memory of Mitch
April 5, 2005
This weekâs Secret Public Journal is dedicated to my friend and comedic hero Mitch Hedberg who died last week at the age of 37. I feel at a loss eulogizing someone I looked up to so much- but Mitch treated all comics the same. It didnât matter if it was Dave Attell or someone who had been doing comedy 3 days.
If you didnât know Mitch, he was a comedian who had long hair over his eyes and wore sunglasses and looked down at the floor and delivered brilliant lines like âI think foosball is a cross between soccer and shishkibobâ¦I used to do drugs. I still do. But I used to, too.â To call him a one liner comic would be a disservice to the strong connection he made with his audience. To Mitch, his jokes were like his children. Some of them were accomplished. Some of them werenât. And some of them didnât even make a lot of sense. But he loved them all equally. He just loved jokes. When people didnât laugh, heâd pause a second and go, âalrightâ¦that joke was ridiculous.â I think some people misunderstood Mitch. Theyâd go: âWhat is he doing? Heâs lying on the floor? Heâs walking behind the curtain.â But that was all part of it. He rode the line of what people considered a show- so no 2 shows were the same. He was the Iggy Pop of comedy. He was a rock-star. He sold out 2 thousand seat theaters without having a sitcom. He was this beacon of hope for real comics that you didnât have to move to Hollywood to become a comedy star.
When I started doing the road 5 years ago, I found out Iâd be opening for Mitch in Dayton, OH. I couldnât believe it. I was struggling to get by but I had that one date circled on my calendar for months. So I show up at the club and they ask me if Iâll pick up Mitch in my car and bring him to the club. And I was in shock. First, because Mitch Hedberg was going to ride in my car. 2nd, that Mitch Hedberg rides in cars at all. I had always kind of envisioned him riding in a spaceship or just kind of teleporting onto stage. So I was taken aback when I picked him up and he and has wife Lynn treated me like an old friend. So we do the shows and later in the week I ask them if they want to go bowling because I had my own bowling shoes. So we go bowling and Iâm so rattled that Iâm bowling with Mitch Hedberg that Iâm awful. Iâm rolling all kinds of 1s and 3s. And I was so embarrassed. And at the end, Mitch said to me: âWhen you said you wanted to go bowling, I thought that you would be good at bowling.â And then weâre waiting in line to pay and there are these teenage girls next to us in line and so to embarrass me, he goes: âdo you think heâs cute?â and they go, âheâs alright.â And then Lynn comes over and talk to Mitch privately and then Mitch comes over and says: âLynn says I should apologize for embarrassing you.â And then there was a pause and I go âMitch, you didnât actually apologize, you just said you were supposed to.â And he was like âHa! Good one.â
That night Mitch was on stage and in the middle of his set he goes âOh no, I got to go to the bathroom. Can someone come on stage and tell a joke?â and there was this long gaping silence. And then heâs like âIâm serious, you guys. I really gotta go.â And itâs still silent. People didnât know what to do. And so Iâm backstage with Lynn and Iâm like, âare you gonna go up?â and she was like, âWill you go?â And I was like, âOK.â And I walk onto stage and he doesnât know Iâm there because his eyes are closed. And I go âMitch, Iâm here.â And heâs like, âOh, thanks man.â And he walks off like this is an everyday thing. And the audience is looking at me and Iâm looking at the audience and weâre all just laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So I just look down at the floor and go: âI am pretty good at tennis, but I will never be as good as the wall. The wall is relentlessâ¦there was a jar of jelly beans at the state fair that said âguess how many and you win the jarâ- I was like âcâmon man, lemme just have some.ââ So then Mitch comes back laughing and says: âAw, man. he did my best jokes.â
I was never quite sure if Mitch and I were friends because he never said much. He rarely talked about himself if at all. But I just felt lucky to be around him. Whenever he spoke, I listened real hard. When I was opening for him on the Comedy Central Live Tour, he offered to come to New York City for the release of my CD at The Comic Strip. I kept giving him an out so that he didnât feel obliged to do it, but he insisted on it. So he flew himself to New York and performed on 2 shows for nothing. I offered to pay him and he kept refusing. He just gave me a hug and walked out the door. The late booker for The Comic Strip Lucien Hold commented that what amazed him most about Mitch was that he had eyes closed on stage yet had the most profound connection with the audience. He didnât see the audience. He felt the audience.
There are all kinds of great stories about Mitch: about how he found out some fans had driven 6 hours to see him, so he got them a hotel room, How George Carlin was once in the audience for one of his shows and said âthat blind guy is amazing,â How he paid for a sold out audience in Pittsburgh to all have shots of tequila. This week Iâve emailed with so many people who are crushed by Mitchâs death. Iâve spoken to people who never met Mitch personally and canât help but start crying in the middle of their day. I feel the same way. Itâs overwhelming. Itâs so sad to lose someone who made so many people happy.
On New Years Eve, I was on an elevator in Kalamazoo, Michigan and this guy goes: âI know you. Youâre that guy on Comedy Central who does that joke about dizzy chickens.â And I go, âNo, thatâs Mitch Hedberg.â And he was like, âoh yea, youâre good too. But that guy is the best.â
I was like âYea, he is.â
Thanks, Mitch. Thanks for being the best.
Love-
Mike
-- After thinking about Mitch's passing for a few days, I finally figured out why it was that I felt so distressed about his death.
If we were to loose the likes of George Carlin or Bill Cosby tomorrow, we would have years and years worth of genius to look back upon in admiration. It would be a great loss to be sure, but we could at least spend some more time with them and their work. But Mitch is different. He only produced two CD's worth of material before he was taken from our lives. He had only made a handfull of television appearances. I desperately hope that there is some footage somewhere that may turn up someday, so that we can spend a few more minutes with this genius. Because the true tragedy of his death is that Mitch Hedberg had so much more to say.
Thanks for the laughs Mitch, you were indeed the best,
Jeremiah