What's So Funny

a rumination on Sandy McKnight and laughter (or lack thereof), by longtime friend, collaborator, and self-styled funny man, Andrew Joffe

I first met Sandy when he and Liv came to a rehearsal for a show I was directing at the Hudson Opera House. They seemed nice. I was glad to meet them.

They proceeded to poach my cast for their own show, a comedy revue. Nice.

Still they seemed like nice people, so I sent them some sketches I had written for possible inclusion in their next comedy revue.

I never heard back. Nice.

Some years later, they asked me to join the cast of their revue. They still seemed nice. Then I found out that one of their regulars had dropped out and they were desperate.

from L: Andrew, Tony Carrano, John Wallace, Liv, and Sarah Mitchell in Saturday Night Liv (hosted by Liv Cummins), circa 2015

Really nice.

As I continued to work with them, I discovered that Sandy and I found the same things funny. Bad puns, Dad jokes, Classic comedy. (Except “The Honeymooners,” which I found funny, but not that funny.)

I also discovered, years later, that I knew Sandy’s father when I was at college. Funny. (Not “ha-ha” funny, but “existential” funny. Still, technically funny.)

Sandy’s dad, Alex McKnight Sr., whom it took me years to discover was related to Sandy, despite their physical resemblance, same last name, and same sense of (silly, punny) humor.

Sandy was the Head Writer for the revue. In other words, he wrote everything. One day, he was writing a news parody, and he asked me to contribute a weather segment. I wanted to impress him with my writing (actually, I didn’t), but I couldn’t think of anything about the weather that hadn’t been done before.

So I wrote a sketch about a weatherman that had nothing to do with the weather, and that was the birth of Russ Madison, who through a series of sketches, proved incapable of keep a job (weatherman, waiter, funeral director, etc.) or a girlfriend. In other words, my alter ego. (Actually, he isn’t.)

Now, I’ve told you that so I can tell you this.

I needed a new car. I knew nothing about cars. Sandy did. Sandy generously drove me to Guilderlands to look at a used car I was interested in.

the (new) car Sandy drove Andrew in, NOT the (used) car Andrew was interested in

not the car they drove in nor the car Andrew was interested in, but Sandy’s beloved Big Green Eldorado

On the drive up, the radio was tuned to NPR. A political debate was being aired. It was an hour broadcast, a half-hour of which was taken up with listing the credentials of the debaters. This seemed ridiculous to me, and I said, “What the hell! Get to the point.”

I started to improvise a broadcast in which you never got to the debate, because time ran out after the introductions. By the time we got to view the car, I had worked out “The Debate” in my head. I wrote it out the next day.

Or the day after.

“The Debate,” purporting to be a debate over the repeal of the National Maternal Nightwear Act (“Obama Mama Pajamacare”), became a staple of the revues, performed many times over. In other words, when Sandy was too busy to write anything new.

Sarah Mitchell, Andrew, and Liv in The Debate

You may ask, “What does that have to do with Sandy?” I’ll tell you.

Wait for it . . .

As we rode up to Guilderlands, as I was improvising the sketch, I heard an intermittent percussive sound.

At first I thought it was the car engine knocking, but it wasn’t. It was Sandy chuckling. (The sounds are similar.)

Now humor isn’t funny unless someone laughs. It was rare for Sandy to laugh, but it was possible to get him to chuckle. And if you could do that, to me, there was no better feeling in the world.

From that moment, Sandy would ask my opinion on sketches: the writing, the staging, the playing of them. All of our rocky early history was forgotten. From that moment, I became a part of the creative team, the creative family, serving as performer and cast member throughout the ensuing decade or more. It was a truly fulfilling experience.

Andrew, being fulfilled

So I dropped my lawsuit.

(Listen: you can hear Sandy chuckle.)

—Andrew Joffe is an actor, director, librettist, poet and all-around pariah.