Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

  Every single member of my family is a working, professional stand-up comic.

  You ought to come over at Thanksgiving.

  It’s a riot.

  When I was 5 all the other kids were playing with toys.

  My parents gave me a tuxedo and a pinky ring.”

  Sock Closet

  When you buy socks they always come on a tiny hanger.

  Does anybody have a tiny sock closet to hang them up?

  Tiny doors.

  Go through them to pick out what you’re wearing that day.

  (fingers going through)

  “Argyle… crew… tube sock… over the calf…”

  The Sock Escape

  But the life of The Sock is not good.

  We know that.

  The stinky feet.

  The boring drawers.

  They want out.

  Laundry day is their only chance to escape.

  And they know it.

  How many times do you do your laundry?

  Go to the dryer.

  Count up the socks.

  One of them got out.

  Escaped.

  Where did he go?

  Took off on his own.

  Never takes his partner.

  “This is my chance.

  I’m tired of everyone thinking we’re the same.”

  The dryer door swings open.

  The sock hides himself up against the side wall…

  (arm feeling around inside)

  “I know he’s in there…”

  Sometimes he grabs on to a sweater.

  Give him a little head start.

  And then he takes off down the street…

  (chase scene music)

  “Da dada… Dada dada…”

  How could one sock even survive in the world?

  In what circumstance?

  On a golf club?

  Puppet show?

  Amputee?

  There’s just not that many options.

  Sometimes you’ll see one sock just lying there in the street…

  Dirty… twisted… exhausted.

  He only made it a couple of blocks…

  The Sock Left Behind

  And what about the sock that gets left behind?

  What are his prospects?

  “Oh, so I get thrown out now…?

  Because of him?

  How is that fair?

  What did I do?

  The whole drawer knew he was going to pull a stunt like this someday.

  Why do you think he was always inside out or rolling down at the top?

  He was never really one of us from the beginning.”

  Smokers Win Arguments

  The ultimate conversation prop is the cigarette.

  You cannot win an argument with someone that has a cigarette in their hand.

  They’re always waving it around.

  “I’ve got fire right in front of my face.

  See that?

  Does that intimidate you in any way?”

  * * *

  And then when they put it out, that just ends the argument.

  I can go,

  “I think this.

  I feel this.

  My opinion is this.”

  They go,

  “Really?

  That’s what you think?

  (exhale smoke)

  Pphhphphph…

  (twisting toe on the ground)

  No.

  It’s out.

  You’re wrong.”

  Vivian Is Back

  I saw a sign in a beauty parlor,

  “Vivian is back.”

  From where?

  Lunch?

  Prison?

  It could be anywhere.

  I didn’t even know she left.

  They never had a sign,

  “Vivian’s on a chain gang in Alabama.”

  Can’t this woman have a private life?

  Everyone’s got to know where she is?

  “Vivian’s getting an egg salad on the corner.”

  “Vivian’s making license plates in Coxsacki.”

  Notary Public

  These notary public people seem to think they’re pretty something.

  With their special little stampers.

  “I need to get this notarized.”

  “Well, the notary isn’t here right now.

  You’ll have to wait.

  NO ONE ELSE can do it.”

  Only The Notary has the power, the skill, the training.

  To take a stamper and go,

  “Boom—boom”

  You ever want to just grab it out of his hand and go,

  “There, I have the power now!

  You see?

  He’s just a man!

  (holding it out like a ray gun)

  Back… everyone back.”

  I’m going to bring my own stamper next time.

  With just a huge OK on it.

  Stamp everything on his desk.

  “There, now your stuff’s approved by me.”

  What kind of course you have to go through to become part of this elite corps anyway?

  Some class where the teacher stands at the front and goes,

  “Alright, everyone. Ready… and…

  Stamp and press and hold and up…

  And… BACK to the pad.

  And press, and stamp

  Rock it on the pad, rock it on the pad.

  and hold and up

  And… BACK to the pad.

  And… breathe…

  Higgins, you’re not breathing.

  Alright, alright, shake it off, everyone, shake it off.

  That was very good stamping.”

  Lobster Tank

  Then you have the attitude toward a creature like the lobster.

  It’s not enough that we want to catch them, kill them and eat them.

  We also want to walk into the restaurant.

  See the guy in the tank,

  sweating it out.

  “Maybe I’ll get a hamburger.

  (turns sharply)

  Maybe…”

  And they’re nervous, you can see it.

  They try to stay in the background.

  I once saw a lobster in a pair of overalls.

  He was cleaning the inside of the tank.

  (scrubbing)

  “I just work here.

  I’m not on the menu.”

  All the other lobsters were laughing at him.

  “Go ahead and laugh.

  I’ve been here nine years.”

  Piano Store

  Every mall I have ever been in has a piano store.

  I have never seen anybody in there buying one.

  You go to the mall, you’ve got $20, $30.

  You buy a book, a pair of jeans.

  You ever see anybody go,

  “Hey, before we leave, let’s pick up one of those pianos!

  What are they, like, A MILLION DOLLARS…?

  Let’s get it now so we don’t have to make two trips.”

  Visual Security

  I have a friend that was worried about getting his car radio stolen

  so he used to put a little towel on the dashboard that hangs over it.

  Certainly nothing strikes fear into the heart of the criminal psyche

  like the sight of a small dish towel.

  Especially if it’s got the little fringe on the end.

  That really terrifies them.

  They run to their secret caves and tremble.

  * * *

  We’re going to get ripped off.

  We think we’re not.

  Everybody has their own little personal security things.

  We think we’re going to foil the crooks.

  We go to the beach,

  go in the water,

  put your wallet in the sneaker.

  Who’s going to know?

  What criminal mind could penetrate this Fortress of Security?

  “I put it down by the toe.


  They never look there.

  They check the heels,

  they move on.”

  Or you have a TV set in the back seat of your car,

  then you have to leave the car in the street for a few minutes,

  so you put a sweater over the TV.

  “It’s a couple of sweaters, that’s all.

  One of them happens to be square with antenna coming out of it. It’s a Zenith sweater.”

  Vague

  Did you ever write a report or a paper in school,

  and you get it back

  and the teacher has written “Vague” across a whole page?

  It’s frustrating.

  Because “Vague” is kind of a vague thing to say…

  I would just write “Unclear,” send it back to the teacher.

  She’d return it to me, “Ambiguous.”

  We’re still corresponding to this day…

  Pay Phone Call

  The other day I went a little overtime at a pay phone.

  I hang up.

  As I’m walking away, the phone rings.

  It’s the phone company.

  They want more money.

  It’s the greatest feeling.

  For the first time in your life, you’ve got them right where you want them.

  I always let it ring a few times.

  “Hello?

  Operator…?

  Yes, uh-huh… I see

  Oh, I’ve got the money.

  I’ve got the money right here.

  TAP, TAP.

  Hear that?

  That’s a quarter.

  Yeah, you want that, don’t you?

  Well, to tell you the truth, I didn’t think the connection was that good.

  Plus, you interrupted me a couple of times.

  I didn’t like that.

  I’m going to have to think about this whole thing.

  Call me back…

  I don’t know, I’ll be in the general area.

  Ring them all…”

  Left Turn Okay

  The signs directing traffic flow are usually very straight.

  “One way.”

  “Right turn only.”

  “Wrong Way. Go Back.”

  I think my favorite is,

  “Left turn okay.”

  That one’s got a little personal touch to it.

  “Left turn… okay.”

  It’s like,

  “We’re not crazy about you making a left…

  It’s okay.

  Believe me, I’ve seen better.”

  I think a lot of these signs could loosen up a bit.

  “Right turn, why not?”

  “U-turn?

  Enjoy it!”

  Political Mascots

  I understand the kind of politicians we have.

  They’re those people.

  That’s the way it is.

  I comprehend it.

  What I don’t understand is the mascot animals we ended up with.

  The Elephant and the Donkey.

  There’s only two major parties.

  They had the entire animal kingdom to pick from.

  “The magnificent black stallion?”

  “No.”

  “Bengal tiger?”

  “No.”

  “Hey, how about a jackass?”

  “I like the jackass idea.

  I think it’s an impressive animal.

  And I really like what it says about us.”

  “You don’t think people will think we’re jackasses

  because we’ve chosen a jackass as our symbol?”

  “I do not.

  It’s two completely separate and different things.”

  Republicans went,

  “Well, if they’re going jackass…

  Perhaps some sort of big, smelly, slow-witted circus animal.

  I know people respect the elephant.

  Probably because of that little hat they wear.

  When you weigh 5 tons nothing looks better than the smallest possible hat with a chin strap.”

  * * *

  By the way, another interesting thing about circus elephants.

  And this is true.

  Before the circus starts, they stick a pole up the elephant’s ass…

  This is to make it go, so it doesn’t take a giant crap during the “performance.”

  Which is certainly the kind of positive image we want for our political party.

  I think it says, “We are ready to do whatever we have to do.”

  Unemployed

  Unemployment, that’s a tough thing.

  Even if you get a job, after you’ve been unemployed,

  they take unemployment out of your check every week and show it to you in that little box.

  So every paycheck has the word “unemployment” on it.

  You can’t get it out of your mind.

  You just got the job, they’re already getting ready for you to be laid off.

  I have a friend who’s collecting unemployment insurance.

  This guy has never worked so hard in his life to keep this going.

  He’s down there every week, waiting on the lines,

  getting interviewed, making up all these lies about looking for jobs.

  If they had any idea of the effort he’s making to avoid work,

  I’m sure they’d give him a raise.

  I’ve never seen someone do such a tremendous job not working.

  The New York Times

  The first inside page of the New York Times is always a strange view of the world.

  They always have a full-page glamourous fashion ad.

  Right next to the third-world persecution story.

  “Wow, in South America political prisoners are being dragged through the streets by their feet,

  … and I see Saks is having a sale.”

  “Actually, that would be a nice outfit for a beating.

  Those would be great loafers for fleeing oppression.

  They make a statement and they’re comfortable to run in.”

  Eyewitness News

  I watched Eyewitness News the other day.

  These people apparently saw the whole thing happen themselves.

  The entire show it’s just 30 minutes of them just holding up Polaroids.

  “That’s me next to the killer, there.”

  “Here I am waving from the back of the getaway car.”

  Watching News

  Something happens when a man reaches a certain age that

  The News becomes the most important thing in his life.

  I remember when it happened to my father.

  All fathers think one day they’re going to get a call from the State Department.

  “Listen, we’ve completely lost track of the situation in the Middle East.

  You’ve been watching the news.

  What do you think we should do about it?”

  TV Cooking

  I will never understand why they cook on TV.

  I can’t smell it.

  Can’t eat it.

  Can’t taste it.

  The end of the show they hold it up to the camera.

  “Well, here it is.

  You can’t have any.

  Thanks for watching.

  Goodbye.”

  The Prisoners of Inertia

  The question you have to ask yourself about professional wrestling is a simple one.

  If professional wrestling did not exist, could you come up with this idea?

  Could you envision the popularity of huge men in tiny bathing suits pretending to fight?

  Could you sell it to a promoter?

  “I’m telling you, Sid, millions of people will enjoy this.

  Giant guys in tiny suits, and they won’t really fight.”

  It’s the only sport where participants are just thrown right out into the audience

  and no one in the crowd thinks anything unusual is happening.

  If you’
re watching golf and Arnold Palmer goes flying over your head…

  First of all, I would say you’re watching a very competitive tournament.

  And how about the professional wrestling referee?

  There’s a great job.

  You’re a referee in a sport with no rules of any kind.

  How do you screw that up?

  The referee is kind of like Larry of the Three Stooges.

  You don’t really need him, it just wouldn’t be the same without him.

  They must get these guys from the same place the Harlem Globetrotters get their refs.

  There must be this whole school where they teach you

  to just kind of run around and not notice anything.

  They sit you down.

  Show you the rubout scene from St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

  If you don’t see anything illegal going on, you’re hired.

  * * *

  My favorite part of wrestling is when they bounce back and forth off the ropes

  and crash in the middle like they’re completely out of control.

  A guy comes off the ropes,

  “Oh no, my opponent is directly in my path.

  There’s nothing I can do.

  I’m a prisoner of inertia.”

  They don’t want to slam into each other, you see…

  But the momentum is too great.

  Cops/Posse

  I think I could enjoy a career in law enforcement.

  Seems like fun catching people doing stuff.

  But I’m not really the right type of person because I would enjoy it TOO much.

  I would catch somebody speeding and go,

  “I got you, I got you, I got you. Eighty miles an hour, I got you so good…!”

  That’s obnoxious.

  People like to catch people.

  That’s why in the Old West they had the posse.

  Everybody wanted to be involved

  You probably couldn’t have the posse today because people don’t have time.

  And they have phone machines so they could screen their way out of it.

  “Yeah, Bill, this is Jim… We’re trying to get a posse together…

  Bill?… Are you there?…