Photo credit: Benjamin Wick
“Humorist” is a rather ill-defined word, but it does have certain highbrow connotations. In contrast to “comedian,” which still comes with a faint hint of nightclub sleaze, “humorist” suggests someone whose output is more literary, more long-form and less jokey, which aptly describes that of author, essayist and regular NPR contributor David Sedaris, whose autobiographical tales, usually centering on life with his talented, eccentric family, possess a thoughtful, formal approach, but still manage to be uproariously funny. Yet while books, like his new Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls, which debuted at number one on the New York Times Bestseller List, are his bread and butter, Sedaris’ revealing tales work even better when told by their protagonist in his own distinctive voice, as he did with a flair rivaling any standup Friday at the Pabst.
After a brief introduction from Mitch Teich of WUWM’s Lake Effect, Sedaris took the official-looking podium and opened with a joke, one that he explained had bombed at a fancy fundraiser a few nights before and which started out innocently enough, but quickly wrapped up in a punchline involving a grandmother with a fist up her ass. You could tell the upscale, almost exclusively white audience wasn’t expecting something so blue, especially just minutes into the show, with some audible gasping mixed in among the laughter, but almost immediately saying something you’d never hear him utter on NPR, as if to say, “this is most definitely not Prairie Home Companion,
