Jackie, Oy!: Jackie Mason from Birth to Rebirth

Mason had it tough as a kid . . . his father, a rabbi, never
had any money . . . in addition, even though he didn't want to

follow in his father's footsteps, he had to study to become
a rabbi himself (just like his brothers) . . . when he finally
decided to become a comic, it was a long uphill battle for
a guy many thought was "too Jewish."

I had heard about Mason's battles with Ed Sullivan and
Frank Sinatra; however, it was interesting to read his
take on them . . . I also enjoyed the back-and-forth
nature of the book, wherein Gross first comments on
something and Mason follows with what actually happened.

Naturally, the book contains some of his jokes--most of which
still seem current; e.g., "Personally, I don't have to do this for
a living. I have enough money to last the rest of my
life. Unless I want to buy something."

There were many other memorable parts; among them:
I had to work harder to get attention. I had to be funny. Not that I
minded. I liked being funny. "You probably think I'm short,
but I'm actually very tall. And blond. I'm tall, blond, and handsome.
I just don't like to show off. So, to you, I look like a short, dark Jew.
But in reality, I'm a Scandinavian god."

It's like an old man reading an obituary column and he keeps
telling you every minute how sorry and how terrible he feels about
who died, but he can't live without knowing who died and he can't
live without telling you how sorry he is, and meanwhile he wants
everybody to drop dead so he can spend his life feeling sorry.
If they really felt so sorry they wouldn't spend so much time
talking about it. Talking about it comes from the fact that they're
gloating while they're telling you how sorry they are.

I would have given him a good piece of my mind. Who does he think he
is, hitting a star? Well, maybe not a star, but almost. I was just waiting.
Every Jew comes one word away from killing someone. You hear it all
the time: "If he said one more word." What that word is, no one knows.
If they ever find out, murder. That guy was lucky I couldn't figure out what
the hell that word was. I had to get to the hospital before I bled to death.


The Blessings of Perfect Timing   October 31, 2002
 2 out of 2 found this review helpful

Every comedian who is worth a farthing knows the importance of timing, but Jackie Mason is the master. The only trouble he had with it was the timing of reaching the level of success he desired--that took thirty years (and ten million beats, mugs, and gestures) longer than he thought and deserved. Raised in a rabbinical family, first in Sheboygan (What part of Russia is that? he was later asked) and the Lower East Side, Jackie rebelled. His true talent, he knew, was in laughter production. From the corner candy store to being the best joke telling but worst dish carrying busboy in the Catskills until his first years as a rabbi, he insisted that the comedy business was a mere sideline. After his father's death he abandoned the rabbinate and became a full-time comedian, leading to a California gig which itself led to a Steve Allen show appearance which led to recordings which led to what he thought would be the success he craved--but then came a misunderstanding with Ed Sullivan (he says it was a thumb, not a finger) and a stay in a sort lounge-only-act Coventry that led him to despair. Las Vegas, Atlantic City, and second-rate Miami hotels were steady work, but it wasn't IT. Failed business ventures, plays, and movies didn't help--and troubles with Sr. Sinatra led to beatings, guns firing though his window, and a car he was riding in being forced off the road. (He denies any Sinatra culpabilty, but once said on stage that he couldn't identify the gunman, but did hear someone singing dooby-dooby-doo fleeing the scene.) Then came a one-man show in L.A. It was so well received that it moved to Broadway. Critical acceptance at last. It was then Jackie knew he made it. Perfect timing.


The Blessings of Perfect Timing   October 31, 2002
 3 out of 3 found this review helpful

Every comedian who is worth a farthing knows the importance of timing, but Jackie Mason is the master. The only trouble he had with it was the timing of reaching the level of success he desired--that took thirty years (and ten million beats, mugs, and gestures) longer than he thought and deserved. Raised in a rabbinical family, first in Sheboygan (What part of Russia is that? he was later asked) and the Lower East Side, Jackie rebelled. His true talent, he knew, was in laughter production. From the corner candy store to being the best joke telling but worst dish carrying busboy in the Catskills until his first years as a rabbi, he insisted that the comedy business was a mere sideline. After his father's death he abandoned the rabbinate and became a full-time comedian, leading to a California gig which itself led to a Steve Allen show appearance which led to recordings which led to what he thought would be the success he craved--but then came a misunderstanding with Ed Sullivan (he says it was a thumb, not a finger) and a stay in a sort lounge-only-act Coventry that led him to despair. Las Vegas, Atlantic City, and second-rate Miami hotels were steady work, but it wasn't IT. Failed business ventures, plays, and movies didn't help--and troubles with Sr. Sinatra led to beatings, guns firing though his window, and a car he was riding in being forced off the road. (He denies any Sinatra culpabilty, but once said on stage that he couldn't identify the gunman, but did hear someone singing dooby-dooby-doo fleeing the scene.) Then came a one-man show in L.A. It was so well received that it moved to Broadway. Critical acceptance at last. It was then Jackie knew he made it. Perfect timing.


Funny Man! But Oy - What a Sad Childhood   January 23, 2001
 1 out of 1 found this review helpful

I really enjoyed this book, but it describes a very "bittersweet" life. Jackie overcame tremendous odds - an impoverished childhood, headed by an overbearing father who insisted that his son become only a Rabbi - and forget the comedy shtick. But Jackie couldn't; and even though he became a Rabbi, he soon cast that off to pursue what he was naturally good at - making people laugh. And there are plenty of laughs in this book. In particular, I praise him for standing by the sense of humor he developed and believed in; even when he was told too many times that he was "too Jewish for the Gentiles". He proved that everyone came to love his jokes, and to accept him. I give Jackie credit for having the Chutzpah to really let us into his life - even though some of it wasn't pretty. But - don't let me distress you too much - if you want to laugh: get this book!