this week’s audio is another song from my songwriting vault, another song i wrote for my weekly writing group, “the game”. the prompt was “styles of deadpan”, which, to be honest, is pretty tough to work into a song as a lyric. but i liked the song idea i spun out of it - an appreciation of a classic comedy partnership from the perspective of the straightman. it’s a wonderful recipe, the straightman and the clown. one still and solid, the other playing off that stillness with antic energy and absurdity.
i myself am definitely more of a straightman on stage. i will pause for your laughter at that phrase, here, and always. my humor is dry, my delivery slow. i like working in the gray area where you’re not entirely sure if i am telling the truth. i’m not a physical comedian, a goofball, or a jester. i don’t wear a funny hat or put on a silly nose, though i have mad respect for those folks. i am the dean martin to your jerry lewis. the abbott to your costello. the saunders to your french.
i’ve been thinking a lot about partnerships recently, specifically the main partnership in my life, with my now giant puppy, carl richard marx. he’s 7 and a half months old and just tipped the scale at 55lbs. he is currently sprawled out beside me on my porch as i write this and on the studio floor as i read it. he still follows me everywhere. when he’s not in his crate, he’s usually somewhere within a couple feet of me, whether i am doing the dishes, practicing violin, watching TV on the couch, going to the bathroom or even in the shower. let me be clear, i am one hundred percent into this. it feels so good to have a creature at hand, at all times. and let me also be clear, i would be one hundred percent not into this if carl was a human. i constantly marvel at how much i want to be around him, all the time. for everyone else, no matter how awesome they are or how much i love them, there is one of those little board game hourglass timers draining in my head. when it runs out, i gotta go.
there is so much to love about carl, and he has been amazing addition to my life. caring for him has changed me in all the right ways. as i’ve written about before, there is something satisfying and primal about our connection. but as he has gotten older, something else unexpected has become apparent. carl is large and only getting larger. so what, you say? he’s a labrador, what did you expect? of course i knew he was going to get big, but the actual experience of him being big has been profound for me.
you see, i am small. i am 4 foot 11 inches and a bit over one hundred pounds. were i one inch shorter, i would medically qualify as a dwarf. i looked this up to double check the distinction, and that i was using the correct term. i am. one inch shorter, you make a comment on my height, then you’re crossing a socially unacceptable line. i might suggest you are already crossing that line when you comment on my height in any capacity, but we’ll save that for another episode.
i have always been small. growing up, plotting my growth on the pediatrician’s chart, i wasn’t even on it. there was discussion of medical intervention before puberty, but i declined. mainly on instinct, and the fact that being small was not really causing any problems in my life. into adulthood, i’ve managed fine. finding clothes is hard, but i have made wonderful relationships with the tailors in my life. what artists they are! and being small hasn’t kept me from loving sports and even being pretty good at some of them.
the other day i was practicing with my summer doubles league team, the lobsters. get it? the lob-sters! i love my team. we are another singer-songwriter, an actor, a retired creative director who all love tennis as much as i do. some of my teammates and i were meeting for the first time, and one of them marveled, “wow, you’re quick.” and it’s true - i am quick. if you are not tall, you must be fast. my tennis game is completely built on being able to run down any ball, anywhere. i can run forever.
i make a similar contribution on my rec-league softball team. i am admittedly not a very good softball player. i didn’t play growing up; it’s something i took up in my early 30s. but i am a very good bunter (tennis hands!) and very fast on the bases. i can’t hit more than a single, but that is enough to get me on base, where i often steal and stretch teammates’ hits into runs scored. i also have a very discerning eye, so combined with my tiny strike zone, i walk a lot. lil youkilis, they call me.
as far as role models go, i have assembled a collection in my heart of small celebrities who have inspired me. dolly parton, edith piaf, judy garland. all very small. in the sports world there’s muggsy bogues, dustin pedroia, jose altuve, doug flutie, drew brees, russell wilson. ok, so those last 3 are not small at all, but they were considered too small to be successful NFL quarterbacks and have proved all the doubters wrong.
muggsy bogues and manute bol, teammates on my childhood NBA team, the washington bullets.
hey yall - just popping in here to remind you, even though it’s summer, there’s still a few things on the show calendar. check it out erinmckeown.com/shows. now get outside, it’s a gorgeous time in the northern hemisphere, where the substack stats tell me 95% of my listeners are!
i don’t know what to call this podcast/essay fusion thing i am making. any ideas for a good name?? either for the genre or a new title? something besides “erin mckeown news”. send me an email. erin@erinmckeown.com. if you are enjoying reading and listening, do me a favor and please tell a friend.
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so yeah, being small is just who i am. i don’t think about it too much. and yet. carl is big. whenever he plays with other dogs, he is usually the biggest. i’ve had the crazy experience of watching him grow bigger and taller than his best friend, eleven. he used to fit in my lap and sleep comfortably on my chest. now when he stretches out he is longer than me. when i stand him on his hind legs, our shoulders are nearly the same height. his head is luscious and huge and sometimes he just needs to rest it somewhere. when that somewhere is my lap, which it often is, i am in heaven.
carlito bonito poquito burrito.
over the weekend, i had to go to the pet store and buy him new things, because he had grown out of everything. a new bed for the van, a new bed for the crate, new bowls. he is already on his 3rd size of harness, moving up to the XL fit. and everything i bought for him this weekend was size XL. so was the price tag. i definitely did not consider the financial reality of a big boy. that our food budget was going to change so much because he eats like a horse, not like a dog. big and getting bigger, carl will likely be about 85 or 90lbs when he’s done.
as i was rolling through the aisles with these giant beds, a huge sack of food weighing down the bottom of the cart, i had the sudden thought - “i have never bought a size XL anything.” i have always had to shop for the smallest thing available, which is probably still too large. chairs, sofas, pants, shoes. and here i am with a pile of big things for my big dog.
and now i need to admit something - it thrills me that carl is big. when i see him with other dogs, i want him to be the biggest and the fastest and the strongest. we’re friends with another family from his litter, and whenever we get together, i hope against hope that carl is bigger than his brother. unfairly or not, i am petty about small dogs. JUST GET A CAT!
this streak of size-ism is as surprising to me as it likely is to you. i’ve just finished telling you how my life as a small person is great. how size doesn’t matter. but for me the chance to have a big anything is novel. i was telling this to a friend recently, and she challenged me to not just notice this, but to wonder why. it stumped me for a second, as i have simply been consumed with delight and petty competition regarding carl’s size.
whether i want to admit it or not, sometimes it sucks being small. when i am not onstage, i am often bumped into, cut in front of, not seen. people think i am a child and treat me so in stores, on airplanes, anywhere you wait in line. “oops, i’m sorry, i didn’t see you,” gets said to me sometimes. but usually people say nothing as they put their backpacks in my face on the subway, or drop their overhead bags on me in the crowded aisle of the plane. like i am not even there.
i sometimes worry when walking alone at night, or really just any time, that i wouldn’t stand a chance if i were physically attacked. no matter how strong i make myself, how quick i am, because i am small, none of that would matter. i have had violent experiences, where nothing i did physically could help me. it is the worst feeling. i don’t like thinking about these things, so i try to ignore or stuff them away and walk through the world with a bodily confidence and swagger that is hard earned. but these experiences linger in my subconscious and dream life.
the connection between this and my chosen profession is obvious. being good at something and standing on a tall, lighted box, making people watch you do it is a surefire way to combat being small and feeling helpless or invisible. the sense of power and control and attention is magnificent. the best drug i know. but having a big dog, i am finding, is coming pretty close. carl takes up a lot of space, with his physical size and his behaviour. he is an enthusiastic fellow - happy to run and leap and sometimes, more than i want him to, bark in joy at other dogs and people. if he isn’t careful, he can knock you over. his play bites leave bruises.
when i am with carl, i get noticed in all the ways i get ignored without him. people make room for us. they have to! they see us and start conversations. they tell me how beautiful he is. and he is beautiful! and big! that’s what i say to people who compliment him. “he sure is.” i’m not sure carl could defend me if i were attacked, but his bulk makes me feel safer. we love to cuddle, which is very therapeutic, for both of us i think. right now i am the big spoon, but barely. and he loves being the small spoon. i wonder if that’s going to change as he gets bigger.
i am very consciously not talking about what is happening in the world. read my recent episode about hot-takes and sadness. i feel frustrated and down about the public health emergency that is american gun culture. i’m not sure what to do. you’ll have to forgive me for not being able to offer anything more than this essay about my big and getting bigger dog.
x erin
carl’s first mountaintop. not his last.
¡ME GUSTA! : SOME OF MY FAVORITE THINGS!
golden state warriors coach steve kerr lost his father to gun violence, so he knows what he is talking about. this is the best thing i have seen recently on a subject that makes me both apoplectic and paralyzed. all that said, GO CELTICS!!
a very good essay from melissa febos on feminism, bodies, and surgery.
my friend quiara recommended kareem rosser’s memoir “crossing the line” after i recommended “across the river”. trading books you loved is the gold standard of friendship, in my humble opinion, and i am savoring every moment of kareem’s story.
um, who knew that hilary clinton’s podcast is… really good!! this episode with SNL legend kate mckinnon is everything you want it to be.
no biggie, but my neighbor and friend is legendary electric guitarist june millington. so excited to see her getting her due. can we please not wait until women are in their 70s to recognize their greatness???
my pal playwright sarah ruhl has a new book of poems out. she and it are lovely as always.
2022 IN-PERSON SHOWS
Jun 3 - Fayetteville AR
Erin will be performing in-person to celebrate the opening night of T2’s production of “Miss You Like Hell”
Jun 11 - Ashburnham MA
Scenic Songs: A Hiking Concert
TICKETS
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Jun 1 - Jul 17 - Fayetteville AR
Miss You Like Hell at Theatre Squared
TICKETS
Nov 17 - 21 - Richmond VA
Miss You Like Hell at University of Richmond
MORE INFO
If you have further questions or concerns about COVID protocols, please contact the venues directly.
Reminder, Erin does not appear in productions of Miss You Like Hell
size doesn't matter