Wednesday evening I watched a new comedy special on Netflix. It’s called 23 Hours to Kill. The comedian? One Jerry Seinfeld.
Recorded at New York’s Beacon Theatre (back when we used to get together for such things), our host shows us he’s still got it. And still does it better than anybody. A man, a mic, and an audience. That’s the real Jerry. There’s nothing better.
Saying Jerry Seinfeld’s new show is good is a little like telling Michael Jordan “nice game.” Of course he played a good game; he’s Michael Jordan. Noting it is practically an insult. Same goes here. Jerry Seinfeld is the Michael Jordan of comedy.
A few things Jerry does not need: swearing, gratuitous sex jokes, unnecessary accolades, and resting on his laurels. Nothing recycled from the TV series, though there are bits taken here and there from 40 years in standup. He’s the master observer, of the human condition’s good and bad.
He’ll tell ya about the rotten side of life, and the awful people you meet along the way. It’s funny because it’s true. Life does suck pretty often. Maybe even 23 hours a day.
But for one hour… you’ve got Jerry.