A Word to the Members

 

Dear Members,

So much has happened in the last month. I'm going to take a bit a recap the JSEB's highlights over the past four weeks.

First of all, I've been blown away from the overwhelming support you've shown for the JSEB's first annual Holiday Greyhound Fundraiser. So far we've raised an impressive $377.00 for the organization. I plan on notifying Jon of our "gift" later this week, so if you're planning to donate, please remember that ALL FINAL DONATIONS ARE DUE TO ME BY DECEMBER 24th. A final list of the e-mail addresses of the participants will be posted on the web page sometime soon, keep an eye out.

The JSEB has been recognized by Jon. That's right. We're ecstatic over here in our little web community, that Jon has some knowledge of our obsessive, slightly scary existence. Hell, he might even be reading this right now! Who knows! ::waves:: Hi Jon! If you didn't hear the news, you can right now over at www.comedycentral.com, by searching in vain for a link to the live webcast. We're at about 19:27 on your Real Player time bar. Enjoy!

Also, my sarcastically posed Pokemon question was asked, and somehow lead to Jon singing his song from Elmopalooza, by my request. Who says dreams don't come true?

The JSEB's one year anniversary is coming up in less than a month. If you have any poems, stories, or pictures that you would like to share with the group commemorating our special achievement, please send it to any of the officers, and we'll be sure to get it up in the next newsletter. Thanks for sticking with us, and if we escape the Armageddon, I'll see you next month.


Stay Fabulous,
Miss Rebecca
President of the JSEB

 

Jon Stewart: The man, the mecca


As I sit at my Apple Macintosh Power PC a mere few hours after one of the most breathtaking experiences of my life, I find that the words to describe the pure genius and beauty of Jon escape my mind. Mere words cannot possibly describe the rapture and jubilation one feels when coming face to face with the one you revere the most; the very epitome of perfection. How can such joy possibly be expressed? But, I did promise to cover the Atlantic City show, so I'm sure I can crap something out.

I arrived in Atlantic City in rapt anticipation and an iron-willed determination to converse with Jon. Well, to converse with Jon and not alienate him to be precise. It was only 5PM, a mere 3 hours away until Jon's show and I tremble as I realize that as I stand in the Ceasars Palace parking
lot gazing at the Hilton, Jon and I are within approximately a half-mile radius of each other. I feel like I've made the connection already. A wave of tranquility washes over me, but the moment ends abruptly. My dad, cranky because we had been in the car for two hours, is yelling at me to move my ass, we have dinner reservations. So, I sigh, blow a kiss into the wind, and head for the elevator somewhat discouraged, but none the less hopeful.

My family and I get to the ground floor and walk into Planet Hollywood. When my mother made the reservations a month ago I smiled with secret content. It was still a few hours before the show was to go on, and, well, a comedian's gotta eat. Why not at a movie-themed restaurant, hmmm? As I sit down scanning the restaurant, a cold realization catches me suddenly: Caesars? Hilton? Half-mile radius? Egad! Jon won't be here at all! He's probably eating at the Hilton right now! If only I had thought of this before, I would have specifically instructed my mother to make reservations at the Hilton's restaurant. Then, I could casually walk up to his table........ Wait! Jon wouldn't be eating there, either! He'd have
something sent to his room to eat in private. Well, If I chloroformed one of the hotel employees and stole their uniform, I probably could have......Oh, what's the use. I will see my love within due time, and then fate will take over. In the meantime I munched on my delicous (if not conveniently priced) Tuscan chicken sandwhich and pondered what I would say to Jon when we meet.

(While I'm on the subject of Planet Hollywood, I say we lobby them to get some Jon Stewart movie memorabilia displayed. Wouldn't it be cool to have something like Jon's lab coat from The Faculty, or even Jon's goatee from The Faculty lovingly preserved under glass. Just a little proposal.)

At 7 PM my dad parks in the Hilton lot. We promptly enter the theater. My heart is pounding (we're both in the same building!) It's about an hour until showtime, and besides a couple of waitresses, we're the only ones there. I make a quick trip to the bathroom to check my make up and pretty myself up for when Jon comes on. Then, I wait...endlessly. I didn't bring a watch, so every five minutes I'm asking my mom what time it is. My brother makes a hat out of his cocktail napkin. My dad's soda glass has a leak. I sip my Sprite nervously. The wait is torture.

It's now almost 8 PM. The theater is packed. I feel really young because many in the audience are, shall we say, chronologically enhanced. I'm talking old. Like, so old they have more gray hairs on their ass than Jon. (The age of the audience is a fact that Jon would eventually address by saying, "I'm not sure if you read the sign outside, but I'm Jon Stewart, not Jimmy Stewart."). I listen to the music over the loud speaker. It's pretty good. I wonder if Jon helped pick it out. Suddenly, the music fades. The lights dim. And then, onto the stage walks.......some guy! It was Jon's opening act, and for the life of me I cannot remember who he was. He looked a lot like Greg Proops, but based on his act, he was no Greg Proops. And he sure was no Jon. The nameless comedian exits the stage leaving the audience mildly amused.

Then, finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for. Jon, in his trademark leather jacket that has graced many a live show walks onto the stage with a huge smile and sparkling eyes. The crowd roars. He opens his act by saying that Atlantic City used to be a "sh--hole" but now it's just a "sparklier sh---hole." Needless to say that the evening was pretty much a riot. Jon did some stuff from Unleavened, and some stuff he did on recent talkshows, but a lot of his stuff was new or delivered in a newer fresher way (for those of you fans of Jon's cat in heat impersonation, you would have approved.). What I loved about this evening the most, however, was the way he included the audience. When one man got up to go to the bathroom, Jon stopped him and compared sweaters with him. At one point, two blonde girls left and returned in the middle of Jon's "hairy ass" routine, Jon looked at them and said, "Oh, you're just in time. We were talking about my ass! By the way, I love you two in Baywatch."

Then came the moment I'll regret for the rest of my life.

Jon began talking about cats. He asked if anybody had a cat, and since I did, I cheered along with a couple of people who sat near me. Then, Jon
walked over to my side of the stage, looked right at me, right at me, and said, "What kind of cat do you have?" What kind of cat do I have? I had never even bothered to think of that before! What kind of cat do I have? A gray one? I don't know! As I'm struggling for an answer, Jon is still looking right at me, and when I finally remember that my cat is a Russian Blue, some jerk sitting at a table away from me, nowhere near Jon's hypnotic gaze shouted, "Siamese!" You bastard! He was looking at ME! Not you, you m-----f----n c---sucker! Of course, I kept it all inside, supressed my rage, and enjoyed the rest of the funny.

And now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is best that you all hear this now, even if it will break a million hearts.

At the end of the show Jon asked the audience what they wanted to talk about. Some plucky soul shouted, "Your girlfriend!" Then, I sat back and braced myself for what I knew was going to happen next, but didn't want to face......

"Actually," Jon replied, "I'm married now."

Huh? Whuzzat? Married? Se cas`o? Hierat? Okay, calm down. You knew it would happen eventually. Afterall, Jon had been dating this girl before I
was even aware of Jon Stewart's extistense. Anyway, this just gave me more of an incentive to stay afterwards and talk with Jon. I'll tell him I
enjoyed your show, congradulations on your (gulp) marriage, and if you're not busy, maybe you and I could find a room and talk a little more (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).

So, the show ends, and I hurry to the bathroom to touch up my make up yet again. When I come out, I notice I small group formed outside the stage entrance. I decide to go check it out. As I walk up I see the curtain open slightly, and (gasp!) Jon is on the other side. So, I kindly ask the
security guard if I could see Jon. And he asks me if I'm on the list. List? What list? If you were here before the show you could sign a list to meet
with Jon afterwards. Oh sh--! I was here AN HOUR before the show! I could have signed up ten times over! Nevertheless, I decide to wait a little, and in the meantime I chat with some nice young Jewish Jersey boys (Future Jon Stewarts? We'll see.....). They tell me that they had talked with the security guard before the show, and if they didn't get to see Jon they would shout, "Craig Kilborn rules!" (blasphemy!).

The minutes creep by. I can still see Jon a little through the curtain. So close! The closest I had ever been to a celebrity before was at the MST3K Convention in Minnesota (Boy, do I miss that show), and I am growing a bit agitated, plus my father is pacing angrily. Finally, a guard emerges from the curtain and says, "Elvis has left the building." Damn! And Jon, too? "Yes. And Jon, too." Damn! As I left the theater, echoes of "Craig Kilborn rules!" followed me out the door. I went home a little deflated, but still enchanted by an otherwise whimsical evening. I'll always remember that it was me that he was looking. Right at me with his beautiful eyes. I still feel that we made somewhat of a connection, despite my chronic bad timing.

What are my future plans? Since I'm auditioning for colleges in New York, I'm planning on viewing a taping of The Daily Show. And if I don't meet Jon there, I will surely try again. I will try again and again, no matter how many times I fall. You can kill the dreamer, but you can't kill the dream!

So, that's my coverage of Atlantic City, although it could probably be confused with an overly elaborate Dear Girlfriend letter. It's not, even though it's kinda clear that I could use the help.

 

One nation under Jon,
Amanda
klajs@aol.com

 


Dear Girlfriend,
Although I adore Jon and would never want to change him in anyway, I do have a problem with him smoking. I was thinking of sending him several pamphlets about lung cancer and pictures of the lungs of people that had smoked, but stopped when I realized that that would be, well, kinda creepy. So what do I do? How can I get Jon to stop lighting up?

Sincerely,
Non Smoker in New Jersey


Dear Non Smoker in New Jersey,

Sadly, there is nothing that can be done to turn Jon away from this bad habit. Unless we can recreate Lewis Black's footage of the exploding,
burning cigarette... in Jon's living room. Not knowing where Jon lives though, poses a serious problem with this plan. Jon's an intelligent man and
can make his own choices. I respect that, even if I don't agree.

Happy Non-Smoking,
Girlfriend



Dear Girlfriend,

I've been distracted from everything I attempt to accomplish since last week's airing of the Daily Show's Greatest Millennium special. I didn't know
Jon had that glorious dancing ability... I'm floored. How did he get those moves?

Sincerely,
Wishing I Was Getting Jiggy with Jon


Dear Wishing I Was Getting Jiggy with Jon,

We at the JSEB understand your compulsive need to watch Jon's hypnotic dance moves. I'm guessing, though, that Jon picked up his dancing skills with all the tap lessons he took during his younger years. That, or he paid off his college loans pole dancing...

Tappity-Tap-Tap,
Girlfriend


If you have a question for Girlfriend, send it to DearGirlfriend@imneverwrong.com

 

And Now, A Poem...

by JCReporter@aol.com

The Daily Show,
I must confess,
is the bestest, of the best.
With Vance, Mo, and Beth,
The Steph(v)ens and Jon,
and all the rest,
carrying on.

Without the show,
I surely will,
throw my tele,
off a hill.