About 12 minutes of my act is dedicated to the ways the KilBaby has ruined my life. Last week, he and I made a parody of a Moveon.org ad. In it, I begged John McCain to take my son to Iraq. You’d think I could talk about him in front of a crowd of strangers without crying.
I attended a lecture at NYU given by David Kirby, the guy who wrote Evidence of Harm. The book is about autism and vaccines. His latest article on HuffPo discusses how the CDC finally admitted to Congress that its “conclusive” study about autism was based on a flawed methods. During the Q and A, several parents told horror stories about their own sick kids, without tears. When I stood up, me with a healthy son I bash onstage every night, me who’s never cried onstage in twenty years of performing, me- I could barely get my words out.
“I. Read. Your. Book. When. I. Was. Pregnant. Thank. You.”
I feel a kinship with celebrities who were pregnant in ’06. Graduating from pregnancy the same year as me were Katie, Brooke, Angelina, Gwen, Britney and Anna Nicole. And someone else, who was at the lecture tonight. I wanted to tell her, “Hey, we’re friends in my head! Our babies should hang out!”
Couldn’t. Bring. Myself. To. Try.