So I was talking comedy to Mister Boob today, or more specifically, talking about the bad blood that can arise between comics upon watching somebody else climb the ranks a little faster than they believe said comic deserves.
“Hmm,” mused Mister Boob. “Well, you know, it’s like my chess game I’ve got going right now. Early on in the game the other guy made a stupid mistake and left a piece unguarded, so I took it. And for a little while there it looked like I was dominating. But now it looks like that piece getting taken has actually worked out to his advantage, even though he never meant for that to happen.”
Did I mention my hubby’s a complete and utter chess geek? And that he is prone to wander for hours on philosophical tangents that leave my mind either reeling or escaping to random daydreams involving popular culture and whipped cream?
Well, he is. And he is. Evidently.
“Anyway,” he said, speeding up towards his conclusion so as to stop me from escaping to a happy place, “my point is that a small twist of luck went his way, which makes it really tempting to feel bitter and just blame everything on his good luck, but what you’ve gotta remember is that he could only capitalise on his luck because of the good things he’d done earlier.”
“In other words, he must have something going for him to have gotten this far!”
And there you have it.