John Mulaney: Kid Gorgeous at Radio City

The lights rise at Radio City Music Hall. A voice asks if there are any questions. There are none. The performer walks onstage as organ music swells and the audience applauds.

The performer introduces himself as John Mulaney. He thanks the crowd for coming to Radio City, a historic and haunted building where he feels out of place. He jokes that the venue’s grandeur makes his performance look even sadder.

He recalls a conversation with his mother about ghosts. She told him their childhood home was haunted by a little girl in a Victorian nightgown who would vanish down the hall. His father abruptly changed the subject, leaving the story unresolved.

He shifts to his father, a lawyer and debate champion who dismantled him psychologically. One dinner-table exchange replayed in his act: his father asked why he did nothing when Tyler was pushed off a seesaw. Mulaney insists he was on the bench. The father then invoked Nazi Germany, asking how he could be better than a Nazi. The mother interrupted to announce she made a salad with Craisins, ending the conversation.

He describes his father’s unusual sex talk delivered when Mulaney was twelve. His father invoked Leonard Bernstein’s sexuality and classical composition, leaving Mulaney unsure whether it was encouragement or discouragement. He imagines the moment years later when he might hesitate during a hookup, wondering what Bernstein would do.

He thanks the crowd for arriving, noting that audiences don’t always get to see what they paid for. He compares stand-up to grade-school assembly, the only part of school he enjoyed. He recalls principals and guest speakers who terrified children with bizarre messages.

He recounts the annual “Stranger Danger” assembly led by Detective JJ Bittenbinder, a child homicide expert with a ridiculous name and a pocket watch. Bittenbinder taught children how to survive kidnappings, muggings, and trunk escapes. He told kids to buy money clips with $50 bills to throw at muggers and to kick upward if grabbed. He claimed the odds of surviving a “primary location” were 60%, but “secondary locations” meant almost certain death.

Bittenbinder’s lessons haunted him into adulthood. He still refuses to go to hotel bars after weddings, fearing secondary locations. He jokes that he expected to be dead by now, kidnapped in a trunk with his hand out the taillight.

He turns to college, recalling a letter asking for a donation. He calculates he had already given roughly $120,000 in tuition and is now asked for more. He compares the college to a $120,000 prostitute. He jokes that his degree in English left him unable to read Jane Austen, making the tuition a waste.

He describes dorm life as a four-year game show called *Do My Friends Hate Me or Do I Just Need to Go to Sleep?* He lived on cigarettes, alcohol, and Adderall. He jokes that college was a scam where students lose $120,000 instead of winning money.

He jokes about donating to charity after moving apartments. He and his wife packed boxes of clothes and furniture, but the boxes sat in the car for months. When his wife asked if he donated them, he fled out the front door. At Goodwill, he threw boxes at people because they were too heavy to identify. He jokes about deducting an XXL Billabong T-shirt as a sleep shirt on his taxes.

He recalls a college friend sued over property damage. Years later, the friend’s neighbor subpoenaed all their college emails. One email contained a line offering to kill the neighbor. Mulaney jokes that the worst sentence to read aloud in court was “See you at improv practice.”

He reflects on turning thirty-five and entering a new phase he calls “gross.” He is damp all the time, burps loudly in restaurants, and has hair on his shoulders. His wife once rubbed his shoulders while singing “Monkey, monkey, monkey man,” a song from deep in her subconscious.

He jokes about aging, saying his body is just a vehicle for his head. He complains about new songs that romanticize fleeting nights. He prefers songs for people in their thirties titled “Tonight’s No Good, How About Wednesday?”

He recalls being raised to be nice to everyone, but now finds many people unkind. He jokes about his weird job writing for *Saturday Night Live*, where he met famous hosts and musical guests. He recounts Sir Patrick Stewart introducing Salt-N-Pepa with exaggerated surprise.

He describes meeting Mick Jagger while writing lyrics for a sketch. Jagger rejected rhymes like “think” and “sink,” but accepted “satisfaction.” Mulaney jokes that Jagger summoned a Diet Coke with a gesture, unlike normal politeness.

He compares modern rudeness to old-fashioned telephone etiquette. He jokes that people now scream at phones like, “Call home!” He laments that everything is too fast and unreasonable, including CAPTCHAs that ask users to prove they are not robots.

He jokes about old-fashioned activities like waving handkerchiefs at ships. He imagines calling a friend to wave at a Norwegian Cruise Line ship on Monday at 10 a.m. He jokes that the world is run by robots and people spend all day proving they are not robots.

He reflects on politics after the 2016 election. He compares the chaos to a horse loose in a hospital. The horse does unpredictable things, like using elevators or smashing baby incubators. He jokes that people who opened the door for the horse now complain about the current horse.

He jokes about people who say he should have been angry at the previous administration. He admits he wasn’t paying attention then and finds the current chaos novel. He jokes that the horse fired the horse-catcher and wonders if that’s allowed.

He jokes about people who defend the horse by saying the hospital was inefficient. He jokes that people who criticize the horse are the same ones who opened the door. He jokes that accuracy does not equal interest.

He jokes about Nazis returning. He recalls using Nazis as a dinner-table threat when he was a kid. Now he jokes that new Nazis claim Jews ruin everything and he replies that his wife is Jewish and he knows all about it.

He jokes about his marriage to a Jewish woman. He asks his wife for permission to make fun of her onstage, and she sets a low bar: don’t call her a bitch or say he doesn’t like her. He jokes that the bar is so low it’s almost nonexistent.

He jokes about his wife’s bluntness and his own need for constant approval. He recalls a trip to Best Buy where he bought an HDMI cable instead of a TV because he was afraid of the cashier. His wife, Anna, walked away in disgust when asked about a rewards card.

He jokes about religious differences with his wife. They have a dog, Petunia, a French bulldog. They bought a stroller for her and joke that people lean in expecting a baby but see a gargoyle breathing like Chris Christie.

He jokes about a Biblical painting idea with Petunia as Jesus in *The Last Supper*, sitting in front of a turkey. His wife says yes, and he asks what they’re celebrating. She says Thanksgiving. He jokes about his Catholic upbringing and his mother’s faith.

He jokes about church services: the fake anecdotes, the usher singing Psalms off-key, and his father lifting him by the shirt to say God can’t hear him if he doesn’t sing loud enough. He ends by thanking the audience and the organist plays “Lithium” as the crowd sings along.