I love satire. I think it's a type of humor that creates perspective and can also deflate huge egos. (I once walked into a filled theater of my colleagues in a professional association in New York in the days of Jesus Christ Superstar. They knew I'd be late and saved a front table for my wife and me. The comic on stage said immediately, "Alan Weiss, Superstar? Jesus Christ!")

Someone pointed out recently that Taylor Swift, who sings constantly about her bad choices, endorsed Kamala Harris! Another pointed out that since exercise guru Richard Simmons has recently passed away, and Keith Richards, the drug-ingesting, alcohol slugging rock musician, is still alive at 80, well, it throws into doubt the entire argument about exercise and good health.

Satire is the use of exaggeration and irony to ridicule the pretension and stupidity of others, especially public figures. It was said that publicity-hungry New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia would "go to the opening of an envelope." I recall a two-line poem that was criticized for "dull stretches." (Antoine de Riverol) And my favorite critique of an actor was of the lead in King Lear who "played the king as if under momentary apprehension that someone was about to play the ace." (Eugene Field)

I find people with little or no sense of humor to be uninteresting and of doubtful intellect. I know, harsh, but nonetheless true. (My other criteria are large vocabulary and ability to use metaphors and analogies. I don't put much stock in academic grades and never in initials trailing like breadcrumbs after one's name.)

I've hosted groups at Broadway plays where the plot and acting were so funny we could scarcely catch our breath. But a couple of people sat, stoically, as if watching the airplane flight attendant "vest inflation" demonstration. And I recognize and state publicly here that a large contributor to my 56-year marriage is that my wife has successfully prevented my head from becoming one of the floats in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

I will leave you with this: We went to see Tina Fey and Amy Poehler at the Beacon Theater in New York City, but they were pretty bad, sketch comics but not stand-up comics. However, their "warm-up" act was a small woman from Mumbai who spoke in that beautiful, melodious accent. (A flight attendant on Air India once informed me, haughtily enough, that the English spoke English better than the Americans, but neither speak it as well as Indians.)

The Indian comic took dead aim at woke, and said: "People are asking me what pronouns to use with my son! What do they expect? We're Indian! I tell them to use 'Doctor!'"

If you don't think that's funny, go back to the top and read this again....