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From: notes@pur-ee.UUCP
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: Russian Comedian - (nf)
Message-ID: <1115@pur-ee.UUCP>
Date: Mon, 14-Nov-83 18:30:19 EST
Article-I.D.: pur-ee.1115
Posted: Mon Nov 14 18:30:19 1983
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#N:isrnix:7100013:000:3317
isrnix!akp    Nov 14 14:57:00 1983

Heard this this morning on CBS News NightWatch. A Russian comedian had come to
the United States, learned the language, and made mucho dollars as a comedian
here. His name is Yakoff something, and he's for real. Here are some fragments
of his interview and tape from his act, recalled without permission:

[Imagine a Russian accent, please.]

	I watched television in Russia. There were soap operas there, as there
are here. There was "One Day to Live," and "Last Days of Our Lives." Also,
there were other shows: "The Love Barge," and a show about a man who had the
chance to leave Soviet Union but did not, called "That's Incredible."

	I met with what you call "culture shock" when I got onto the American
airplane in Moscow.  The stewardess said to move the seat to the forward
position. I looked in my dictionary, but did not understand. I had no tools,
and the seat was screwed down!  That was not all, either.  I went back to the
bathroom, and a sign said, "No foreign objects, please." I looked in my
dictionary again, and -- It's a twelve-hour flight!  It was not funny then.

	I went to the immigration man when I arrived, and he asked me (through
an interpreter, of course) what I wanted to do in America. I said I wanted to
be a comedian. I knew I would succeed: I never got a bigger laugh.

	My first job was as a bartender, but it did not last long. I did not
know the American drinks. A man asked me for a Black Russian, and I said,
"Hey, Comrade! Wass happenin'?"

	After a time I was successful. But things still scared me. I was
driving in Southern California in my first American car -- a Toyota -- and I
turned on the radio.  The voice said, "This is KGB-FM. It's ten o'clock. We
know where you are."   I almost hit the car in front of me!
	[KGB-FM is a real radio station in So. Cal.]

	What can you tell jokes about in Russia?  Of course, you cannot tell
jokes about government, or politics, or religeon. You cannot tell jokes about
sex.  Fish. You can tell jokes about fish.  And buttons, and zippers. Zippers
are funny in Russia.  Mother in laws are okay, too -- they are safe. You have
to send your script to the Ministry of Jokes -- there really is one -- to have
it approved. You cannot go away from the script. If someone heckles you, you
cannot improvise. You cannot say, "Your mother wears army boots;" she probably
does. And she might hear.

	I like the freedom you have in America. You can tell jokes about the
President. You can go to Ronald Reagan and say, "I do not like Ronald Reagan."
You can do that in Russia, too -- you can go to Uri Andropov and say, "I do
not like Ronald Reagan."  But to say, "I do not like Uri Andropov," that you
can only do once.

	Yes, I have trouble in America still. I went to a restaurant and
the woman asked, "How many in your party?" I said, "Two million."  I got a 
corner booth.

--------------------------
[end of direct paraphrase]

	He recalled some other things, too -- he said he was paid five or
six times what a doctor or lawyer was paid, and lived with his mother in an
apartment. They had no shower; they had to walk ten blocks (exaggeration? I
don't know) and pay money to shower.  Still, it was a good life, compared to
those around him. A good life in the Soviet Union.

								-- Allan Pratt

					...decvax!pur-ee!iuvax!isrnix!akp