On March 12, 2020, I gave a book talk at California State University, Bakersfield, celebrating the release of Weird Al: Seriously. I began that book because I had wanted to confront prejudices against funny music—ideas that humor in music was somehow less significant than so-called “serious” music or classical music. I thought, if I can get an interview with Weird Al, I’ll make him the focus—the case study proving my thesis. And he was the perfect musician for the job—with an impressive work ethic, intelligence, undeniable cultural impact, and a musicianship rivalling and even surpassing any elite, “serious” musician.
When I finished the book, I wondered what I would write next. What topic could possibly be as rewarding and fun? My book talk was bittersweet. It marked an end, and I knew I would miss spending my days analyzing Weird Al’s songs and reveling in his remarkable history. But that end was much bigger than I knew. After I gave that talk, the United States was suddenly on lockdown. In fact, the university shut down that very evening, March 12, 2020. Everything had changed in an instant.
I had been dabbling in musical humor in other genres and decided then to write a book expanding my focus in a continued effort to understand musical humor and confront bias against it. I knew the concentration was good for me at that particular time. In a very personal way, I was about to test the theory that humor (and writing about humor) can provide psychological comfort in times of crisis.
The result? Taking Funny Music Seriously, out now!
But that’s not all! There was a secondary result: my experimentation in writing about humor led to my experimentation in trying to create humor—specifically humorous articles. Didn’t see that coming, did you? Apparently, since I didn’t get into making sourdough, I had to choose the only other available pandemic comfort-outlet: writing silly stuff about parenting and book writing.
And, so, in honor of the release of Taking Funny Music Seriously, here is a ridiculous account of my Taking Funny Music Seriously book tour. Don’t worry, what follows is a joke. In truth, it was a John’s Incredible Pizza, not a Dave & Buster’s.
My Book Tour For Taking Funny Music Seriously, If I’m Honest
First stop: I’ll send my mom the book’s website and then receive a response from her asking if she should order a copy or can I just send her one, even though, as she puts it, she doesn’t really listen to “that sort of music.”
Next stop: I’ll explain to my kids what a musicologist is and why one would write a book about funny music. They’ll be confused and insist musicology does not seem like a real thing. They’ll have a point.
Third stop: I’ll post a funny song with a link to my book’s website on social media. Since funny songs are easy to share, the post should be a great way to self-promote and reach new audiences. After posting, I’ll immediately lose fifty followers.
Stop 4: I’ll send an email to a local bookstore and make an enthusiastic argument for the marketability of my book and nonfiction books more generally. No one’s buying it, literally.
Next stop: The earnest self-marketing effort will take its toll. I’ll spend an hour or so recovering by curling up in a ball and singing to myself Garfunkel & Oates’ song “You Are Such a Loser.”
Stop 6: I’ll see a friend at the grocery store, and, when she asks me what I’ve been up to lately, I’ll tell her about my book. She’ll have no follow-up questions, and I’ll leave embarrassed, wishing I had just said, “Nothing much, how ‘bout you,” like a normal person.
During the seventh stop, I’ll bring my book to the gym and wait until someone asks me why. I’ll then explain that humor is good for our health, almost like going to the gym. To demonstrate, I’ll eat two donuts I brought with me, not exercise, and then loudly announce, “Don’t worry. I’m listening to the music of Tom Lehrer later!”
Next stop: When my son’s friend says “just kidding,” I’ll say “humor shouldn’t be minimized in that way” which is basically the same thing as a book talk. I won’t care that the conversation happens at a Dave & Busters because it’s only fitting.
Stop 9 will be me handing out copies of my book on Halloween. I’ll explain to a six-year-old that my book is both a trick and a treat.
Stops 10-20: I’ll introduce myself to perfect strangers as the Hemingway of people who write about funny music, even though I don’t like Hemingway. “The Cath Guisewite, creator of the ‘Cathy’ comic strip, of people who write about funny music” just didn’t have the same ring.