Just under three weeks ago, I managed to satisfy a lifetime ambition that seemed so unlikely to ever happen that I never really genuinely listed it in my mind, and that was to breathe the same air as that of fading champion of glib Chevy Chase. I just happened to be in New York, as did he, on the same night, and I somehow managed to snag the last two tickets for his Inside Joke appearance at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater. It was meant to be, it was destiny.
He talked more about his tenure in the proto-Steely Dan than I could have ever dreamed of, endorsed Fletch as the favourite of his films, dismissed the contributions of most of the people he’s worked with, and, perhaps thankfully, ran out of time before he’d finished recounting the mid 80s.
And now I’ve uncovered a hearty clip of action from the night, so I can relive the night I sat rapt, like a schoolboy with a big ol’ smile on my face for over an hour watching a middle-aged man dick around, be indiscreet and generally make my dreams come true.