Please excuse the glitter and feathers everywhere. I’ve worked myself up into a gay panic. Emily and I went to a CD signing at a Barnes and Noble today and met CAROL CHANNING! Can you believe it? Carol Channing! Hello, Dolly! Raspberries! And everything else you can think of that is magic and musical theatre. She couldn’t have been more delightful, and at almost 90 years old, accommodating. Emily and I both came from work, so we were Standing Room. We were able to watch from outside, through a window or on closed-circuit TV. This also meant we might not get our CDs signed. But Carol, that trouper, signed everyone’s CD who had bought one.

Watching her talk and banter with the audience, the interviewer, and her adorable husband, it reminded me of the amazing job Betty White did recently on SNL. These women have it, and there’s a lot we comedians can learn from them. They both have impeccable timing. I don’t how much of it was on purpose or how much of it was her 90 years, but Carol would launch into a story in response to the interviewer’s question, a story that quickly veered off course. Then at just the right moment, she’d say, “What did you ask me? Oh, right. How did we meet…” This happened three or four times. And every time it got a huge laugh. Just effortless. 

I have to say, though an educated theatre fan, I don’t first associate Ms. Channing with the stage. Not Thoroughly Modern Millie, not Lorelai or Gentleman Prefer Blondes, not even Hello, Dolly. No. Carol Channing will always be The White Queen from the 80s all-star TV movie Alice in Wonderland. I’ve been lamenting the lack of jam in my every day life since I was little. My sister Brigid and I used to sing that song to each other all the time. And it’s the weirdest thing you’ll ever see. Don’t miss the part where she turns into a sheep. Carol Channing goes balls out on everything she does, and I love her for it.