The Pun Also Rises: The Eagle (column) has landed
Good morning, Berkshire County! Or maybe good afternoon or evening. And maybe somewhere other than the Berkshires.
Perhaps I should have opened with "Good [timespan], [location]."
No, my goal today is simply to introduce myself. And one of the things I've learned from introducing myself at parties is that often I'm actually re-introducing myself, because the other person knows me but I have accidentally forgotten or not recognized them because I have a terrible memory. And then they are gracious enough to remind me where we met, and that I owe them $5.
So, I'd like to take this opportunity to re-introduce myself and my column based on where you know me from.
If you recognize me from erstwhile restaurant reviews here in The Eagle, please understand that while I will still be eating delicious food all the time, I will no longer tell you about it here unless it causes some sort of amusing disaster. I figure if you want to see people overshare about everything they eat, there's always Facebook.
If you were a regular reader of the humor column I held in the North Adams Transcript for the past decade, thanks for taking the leap. This column will be largely the same, but without so many North Adams references. Feel free to replace "Mission" with "Jack's" in any future columns to retain that hometown feel. Heck, feel free to make that replacement elsewhere too, as I'd like to see Tom Cruise in "Jack's: Impossible."
If you recognize me as the Rapping Psychiatrist from the Royal Berkshire Improv Troupe, I will point out that there is very little hip-hop in the newspaper business. (Although people do sometimes use it as fish wrappers.) Absent the hip-hop, I'm "afreud" I rarely do psychiatry here, because I have a "sig, sig mund."
If you've seen my poetry around WordXWord or other venues, be advised that my poetry in this column is more likely to rhyme, and less likely to be about suicide and/or quantum physics. (Schrodinger's cat got so sick of being trapped in a box, he both did and didn't commit suicide.)
If you remember me from a big party, I was the guy standing at the buffet table who was eating all of the cheese. My jokes here also will have all the cheese, as you havarti guessed, and will continue until you camembert it anymore.
If you recognize me from stand-up comedy around Pittsfield or elsewhere, I should make it very clear that my newspaper act has only half as much swearing. [Want to be fired on your first day? -- ed.] Like I said, no swearing at all.
If you remember me from the time it was pouring rain and I was hitchhiking and you picked me up and drove me as far as Allendale, this column has nothing to do with that at all, but I still appreciate it, wherever you are.
And if you don't remember me at all, my name is Seth, we met at that party that one time, and you owe me $5.
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