Last night I turned my inner comic book guy dial up to a solid 7, and celebrated the 30 year anniversary of one of my favorite jokes in Simpsons history. There are some Simpsons fans that would question my lack of knowledge of episodes after season 10 disqualifying to be considered a true Simpsons fan. Others, which account for roughly 97% of the population, would find my practice of weaving Simpson references into 72% of conversations, and essentially thinking in Simpsons lines, as extreme. To them I say nonsense, what could possibli go wrong?
Druthers Albany hosted Bill Oakley, former Simpsons writer and show runner, to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the airing of 22 Short Films About Springfield (S7, E21), and the long enduring joke about Steamed Hams. When I first heard about this event, I assumed I would not find a single friend willing to do calendar gymnastics to make the trip down to Albany (30 min from Saratoga Springs) on a Tuesday. But then my friend, whose Comic Book Guy dial goes to 11, and whose amazing wife had tickets to a concert and couldn’t be his reluctant wingman, responded to a FB post I had shared and we got tickets for one of two shows. And yes, we got the upgrade for a ticket that included a “steamed ham”.
I won’t attempt to recount all of the interesting and funny anecdotes that Bill shared, but I do want to offer some highlights, for that aforementioned 3% of the population who’s life would be embiggened* by such stories. If you have read this far and have no idea what I am talking about, first, I hope you did something great with all those hours, and two, might I suggest you at least watch this before giving up on this post.
How 22 Stories came to be. Previous show runners could be so critical of their own (excellent) work that they once had to add a filler to make 22min, which is the origin of the “Adventures of Ned Flanders” bit in the episode “the Front”. When Bill and Josh took over as show runners, they found the opposite problem, having to cut stories they still wanted to tell. They were inspired by Pulp Fiction to tell these side stories of Springfield using the vast tapestry of characters (though no Disco Stu). Since they were the show runners, they got first pick of which characters that they wanted to write for, and they picked Skinner (and his counterpart Chalmers).
Skinner & Chalmers Magic. The success of the bit is based on the long standing dynamic between Skinner and Chalmers, where Skinner avoids telling the Superintendent an unfortunate truth, and keeps digging while Skinner’s denials grow more ridiculous, until Chalmers finally accepts Skinner’s absurd explanation and moves on. He framed that ability to let go of the absurdity as what kept the Superintendent sane, unlike poor Fred Grimes, a cautionary tale of what happens when you try to fight the insanity of Springfield. Interestingly, we learned that the original dynamic was not written into the script, but was the product of Hank Azaria and Harry Shear riffing in the Whacking Day episode in S4:
Ralph Wiggum: What’s a battle?
Principal Skinner: Hahahaha, let’s go.
Superintendent Chalmers: Did that child just say what’s a battle?
Principal Skinner: Yes, he said ‘What’s that rattle’, it’s about the heating duct.
Superintendent Chalmers: Hmm, it sounded like battle.
Principal Skinner: I’ve had a cold, so...
Superintendent Chalmers: Oh, so you hear “R’s” as “B’s”?
This character dynamic coupled with the “boss comes to dinner” trope that goes back to classic sitcoms like Dick VanDyke and I Dream of Jeannie provide the perfect scaffolding for this absurdist comedy gold.Why Albany? Although Bill and his best friend and writing partner Josh Weinstein went to St. Albans school, they deny their alma mater provided any affinity to the NY state capital, which they had never visited. It was simply that Albany, as a city that everyone has heard of but no one could think of a single identifying attribute about it (sorry Nipper), made the perfect punchline. And yes, there actually was a history of Albany appearing in other jokes, but this is surely the one that put Albany on the map. Literally, check out this totally accurate map.
The enduring power of the patented Skinner family recipe for a steamed ham.
I personally appreciate that this sketch has had legs. To be clear, I showed up in a Steamed Hams tee, and after learning of the doomed fate of my MacBook this week, the thing that annoyed me most was that I would be losing my Steamed Hams sticker. And I would also like to point out that this brought me joy well before I moved to the capital region a dozen years ago. I could live 1000 years, and never hear the words “aurora borealis” without thinking, ‘At this time of year, at this time of day, in this part of the country, localized entirely within your kitchen?’.
Bill’s personal theory of the case was that it sticks not because it is the funniest joke, but because the name itself is sticky, and he compared it to comedy bits that anyone living with an ounce of humor would recognize. Much like “Who’s on First” and “Dead Parrot”, “Steamed Ham” is easy to say and easy to remember. A solid take, and possibly proof that even comedy abides by the universal laws of good branding.
Despite my own affinity for the short, I had significantly underestimated how much this joke had grown in the 30 years since I first watched the episode live. There are thousands of bits, takes, and memes all over the internet, and it was voted meme of the year in 2018 after two Australians had a viral moment trying to steam a ham! But the standouts belong to a filmmaker named Tyrone Deise, and they are mandatory viewing.The first is styled as the opening sequence of a Netflix True Crime documentary — when I sent it to my hometown Simpsons friends, one responded “someone got an MFA in film and used it to make that (and I approve),” which is honestly the only review it needs. The second is a full mash-up of Steamed Hams and My Dinner with Andre, and I don’t have a better way to describe it than to say it is exactly as unhinged and perfect as that sentence implies. One day, when I win the lottery and have the gift of time, I will dedicate a meaningful portion of it to tearing through his entire catalog.
Netflix True Crime Promo:
My Dinner with Andre, Steamed Hams version:
Comedy Nerds
While I am not a particularly funny person, I do fancy myself a bit of a comedy nerd. Some of my favorite memoirs are from comedic writers — Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, and Colin Jost, the latter of which I recently re-listened to with my 13-year-old son on a drive to Montreal. A Very Punchable Face gave us shared belly laughs, reframed his entirely reasonable fear of sh*tting his pants (hey son, if it ever happens, just know it could never approach the scale of Colin’s many documented disasters), and introduced him to the world of the Harvard Lampoon — the storied and mysterious college-to-Hollywood comedy writer pipeline that has shaped at least 24 Simpsons writers, including Conan O’Brien and Dave King**.
So when Bill mentioned that while in college he “wrote for the college humor magazine,” I instantly recognized it as the coded language of someone who probably spent hundreds of hours trying to get into the Lampoon, thousands of hours inside the castle as it slowly consumed his entire life, and who now worries he sounds like a pretentious jerk if he says the actual words “Harvard Lampoon” in a room full of people. As a Bostonian, I respect that completely. What, are you one of those wicked smaat Havahd kids?
Bill’s career has included writing for Futurama, and other successful (and non-successful) animated shows, as well as pivoting to embrace his love of food, and working on several food network shows. He seemed at ease and somewhat in awe that something he wrote has had such legs and life. Thanks to the event last night, he can officially trademark a “steamed ham”, because we actually bought them! Hopefully now he gets some of that sweet sweet steamed ham money, but I think even without that, he seemed happy to share insight with fans, sign some posters and scripts, and appreciate his role in comedy history. The poster and script have dethroned my previously favorite Simpsons merch, the Troy McLure & Fuzzy Bunny Educational Film set. I feel like my Comic Book Guy dial might go all the way up to 8 now. Maybe an Albany 9.
So in conclusion, I left Albany Druthers last night with a big smile, a full belly of (now trademarked) Steamed Hams, excited to go back and rewatch season 7-9 with new perspective, grateful that I have a local friend with a comic book nerd dial that goes to 11, and honestly wondering why Albany smelled like low-tide. Upon reflection, the inland low-tide stench seemed like the perfect coda to the story, as this will be the one and only experience Bill Oakley, the writer of the most famous Albany-centered joke, has ever, and probably will ever set foot in our fair capital. But on the drive home, the comedy gods had one last gift for us. The sunset seemed to just want to say, “Aurora Borealis…..at this time of day……”
*a perfectly cromulent word.
**While Dave has had an incredibly successful career on some of the best shows on TV (Parks & Rec, the Good Place, and many others), he only wrote only one EPIC episode of the Simpsons as a freelance script, “the Town” S28, E3. While Albany gets to claim the enduring joke of 22 Short Films about Springfield, the Town offers 22min of non-stop Boston-centric jokes, voices of an amazing roster of Boston’s finest comedians, and is must see viewing for anyone that grew up or has lived in the Boston area, such as myself. And I am not just saying that because he grew-up up the street, was great childhood friends with my brother, and is a great guy from a great family. I just can’t spend this much time writing about a joke about Albany without hyping my actual hometown episode.
