Joan Rivers: A Role Model Like No Other
If you haven’t heard the news, Joan Rivers, a ferocious comedienne, an extraordinary professional, a compassionate, outspoken role model, and the funniest woman I’ve ever seen died after suffering cardiac and respiratory arrest during a minor, medical procedure. She was 81.
Funny people–I mean really funny people–make the world a brighter place, a lot more palatable. Losing Joan Rivers was like losing a family member, someone I grew up emulating.
I was a child in the 1960s and came of age in the 1970s. Joan Rivers was always part of the backdrop screaming in her native Brooklynese, “Oh, Oh, Oh, Can we talk? Just grow up!” As sad as I am thinking of my life without her wit and spin on life, I take comfort in the legacy of laughter and life lessons she left behind. She taught me how to be a better parent, woman, spouse, how to rise above tragedy, how to plug along, and how to always see life through the lens of humor. If you don’t believe me, ask my children. They’ll tell you. I’m always funny and poking fun at life.
Now, can we talk?
You might be wondering why I’d dedicate an entire blog post in tribute to Joan Rivers. After all, isn’t this educational blog focused on parenting and kids issues. Well, it’s like this. Joan Rivers was just like many of us. She was a mom, a very public parent who spoke of curbing her daughter’s prolific spending habits. She was a very public widow whose husband committed suicide. And she was a professional all the way. Whatever stage her life was in, before marriage, married, widowed, single parenting, middle-aged, she delivered jokes with extraordinary insight. And her wisdom was applicable to many–single women, women with parenting struggles, single women with parenting struggles, single women with parenting and dating struggles, middle-aged women with parenting and dating struggles, middle-aged women with fading looks, plastic surgery, aging parents, and angry husband struggles, widowed women with parenting struggles, women with teenage girl self-image struggles, etc. etc. etc.
In honor of some of my favorite Joan Rivers jokes and quotes, I’d like to highlight kernels of wisdom I learned from her poignantly yet ferociously delivered humor.
“I have so little appeal my physician calls me “sir”.”
There are few women who’ve maintained a popular following for as long as Joan Rivers. Historically, comedy has been a man’s world. Sure, there are female comics who’ve made an impression–Sara Silverman, Roseanne Barr, Phyllis Diller, Gilda Radner, and Whoopie Goldberg. Unlike them, Joan never compromised her femininity. She discussed female issues openly and embraced them. She taught me that a woman doesn’t have to be like a man or play the vixen in order to be respected. She should just be a professional, hard working, consistent, ethical, and compassionate..
I was the last girl in Larchmont, NY to get married. My mother had a sign up: ‘Last Girl Before Freeway.’
My daughter used to say to me, “when I grow up, I want to marry a millionaire.” My response used to infuriate her. “Why should a millionaire want to marry you? What will you have to offer him?” Before you can be happy in a marriage,, you have to be happy with yourself. You have to know yourself and never apologize for what you believe in or who you are.
My life is like a piece of Swiss cheese. Most of it’s missing, and what’s there stinks.
My mother routinely says to me, “I wish your life was easier?” Most of the time, I laugh and respond, “Mommy, we don’t all live charmed lives like yours. You are in the minority.” Life is full of hills and valleys, dips, obstacles, supreme happiness and heart-wrenching tragedy. Like a slice of Swiss cheese, it’s got holes, a lot of it’s missing, and it sure stinks. But, I like Swiss cheese and still think it’s worth eating, especially in a tuna melt.
A few bad shows, a few failures, and I could be sleeping on the street.
My mother-in-law recently died at the blessed age of 95. She routinely told all of us the importance of a good name. ‘You can have all the money in the world. But if you don’t have a good name, you’ve got nothing.” As a parent, it’s important to show your child how to create a reputation, one based on character, ethics, honesty, and integrity. There are too few people who embody those characteristics but if you’ve got them, people will want to work with you, will want you on their team. Sure,, you should learn from your mistakes, but you don’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again.
Your child is never not your child. You can be 90 and your mother 120, but your mother is still worried about you.
In the 1980s, Edgar Rivers died of an intentional overdoes of painkillers. I still remember interviews where Joan Rivers openly discussed feelings of betrayal and anger. And then she moved on. She had a teenaged daughter to raise. She had a job to do. She had bills to pay. So she integrated Edgar into her joke routine and found the strength to integrate her tragedy into the fabric of life. Over the course of life, we all are victims of heart-wrenching tragedy. We struggle through personal loss, disappointments, divorce, affairs, job loss, wars, and illness. And we have choices to make. Do we present as victims to our children and to others? Do we become stuck in limbo? Or do we move forward, one baby step at a time? I’ve always taught my children to take baby steps forward. Get up. Plan your day. Work. Maintain committed to those who rely on you. And over time, the sting of loss softens. That’s the lesson I teach my children.
Fashion is like a disease; either you’ve got it or you don’t.
If you’re not funny, don’t be a comic. If you’re tone deaf, don’t be a singer. But, do find something you love that you’re good at. Everyone is good at something. Then make it your life’s passion. And never be an apologist for what you can’t be. Most of all, be the kind of person you’d want to be friends with. Be someone your kids will want to emulate.
Thank you Joan Rivers for gracing my life and the lives of countless others. You weren’t always tasteful. You weren’t always kind. But you were real. I will miss you.