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Tough Pill To Swallow
by Andy Cowan
TheSyndicatedNews columnist

Andy Cowan, an award-winning writer, whose credits include Cheers and Seinfeld, regularly contributes humor pieces to the Los Angeles Times and the CBS Jack FM Radio Network.

I’ve been kind of depressed ever since I watched that 60 Minutes report citing that anti-depressants may be no more effective in treating mild to moderate depression than sugar pills. I hadn’t yet tried anti-depressants up till then, but now that I’m depressed, I need to swallow me some sugar pills. Wait, sugar’s bad for you? Now I’m really depressed.

Truth be told, I’ve always found humor in my natural tendency to see the glass half empty, a coping mechanism that isn’t uncommon among celebrated Jews. I’m “uncelebrated” as in “insert non-Jewish holiday here”.

Woody Allen has been at his funniest when down in the dumps. (Although if he were seriously depressed, he wouldn’t be able to keep churning out scripts like the rest of us churn out text messages.) As when his childhood alter ego in Annie Hall, Alvy Singer, explained to the doctor why he was too depressed to do his homework: The universe was expanding, and if it’s expanding, some day it will break apart and that will be the end of everything.

Why was that his business, his mother wanted to know? Extrapolating from Bobby Kennedy, who extrapolated from George Bernard Shaw: Some men see things as they are and say why. But we see things as they are and say “Oy.”

Still, the adult Alvy managed to reflect optimism about how lucky most of us are to be miserable, because it was a step up from the horrible lives of the infirmed and remaining unfortunates. A humorous distraction from the harsh realities of the world – that’s been Woody’s acknowledged modus operandi behind his feverish pace as a non-stop movie maker. Writing screenplays in his sleep may not exactly make him happy, but it helps keep his mind off the expanding universe, when he’s not writing about it, that is. I’ve just been informed that writing screenplays is no more effective in treating mild to moderate depression than sugar pills. This is prompting in me a rare bout of optimism, seeing as how the opportunities for procrastination have never been richer. I can now either put off finishing my screenplay, or put off finishing my sugar pill. Be right back, have to check my email.

I’m back. Why does my spam sound friendlier than the email from people I know? With a name like “spam,” no wonder it doesn’t sound Kosher.

Albert Brooks under duress has always been funny – From when his wife bet the nest egg away in Lost in America, to his comical tweet channeling Sally Field in response to being overlooked for an Oscar nomination this year: “You don’t like me, you really don’t like me!” I’ve just been informed that Oscars are no more effective in treating mild to moderate depression than sugar pills. To test that theory, I’m placing a sugar pill on the mantle next to my CableAce Award – an award they later discontinued. Summoning my unnatural optimism, I remind myself how truly special that makes this defunct honor of mine, an award no one will ever be able to win again. I highlighted this in my attempt to sell it on eBay. Still no takers.

Curbing one’s enthusiasm has evolved into an art form thanks to Emmy winner Larry David. If I had hundreds of millions of dollars, I’d be cranky too, because I would then have incontrovertible proof that money doesn’t buy you happiness. Larry’s Curb cohort, comedic malcontent Richard Lewis, wears all black all the time for a reason. On the up side, as briskly as a prepared fireman sliding down a pole after the alarm sounds, he's the first to show up at a funeral without needing to change first. Update: I’ve just been informed that money is no more effective in treating mild to moderate depression than sugar pills. Sugar pills, however, cost money. My head hurts.

What prompted our predisposition not to SUGARcoat life, and to draw solace from kvetching? Is it a therapeutic evolution borne out of centuries of affliction and prejudice? Was it instilled in our psyches by our Jewish mothers who wanted nothing for us but the best, leaving everything but the best worth complaining about? It doesn’t feel good blaming my mother, so I will close by taking her long standing advice when it comes to not feeling good. Never mind. I’ve just been informed that chicken soup is no more effective in making you feel good than sugar pills.



Published: Mar 18,2012 00:09
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