Why did I write this down?

I carry a notebook around most of the time. I use it to jot down ideas for jokes, phone numbers, shopping lists, what have you.

I learned through experience that when you get an idea, you had better get it committed to paper pretty quickly. I've been half asleep when an idea hits me, and rather than get up and write it down, I've said, "I'm sure I'll remember this in the morning."

And of course morning comes, and my idea is long gone. It never calls, it never writes. Maybe that idea I had was nothing; maybe if I had written it down, I wouldn't have time for blogging because I'd be too busy shooting the second season of Everybody Loves Shecky.

The point is, now I try to trap all of these wisps of inspiration in my notebook. Frequently, it's the simplest thoughts that hold the most promise. It can be a single phrase, such as "bad HMO," or "effeminate caveman." (In case you were wondering: both of them, comedy gold.)

As I said, they are not all winners by any means. I have written things down, sure that I have something really good. But in the cold light of day, I see that what Tanqueray and I had thought was so witty the night before might not be quite as hilarious as it seemed.

Sometimes leafing through my notebook is like visiting a comedy orphanage. "Oh yeah, that's funny, but pretty much just a one-liner... there's a punchline still looking for a premise... why did I write this down?"

Why did I write this down? I'm looking down at my notebook and I see one word: Splenda. Think. Why did I write Splenda? I don't buy Splenda, so I don't think it was a shopping list. I (perhaps in collaboration with Tanqueray) apparently thought there was comic potential in artificial sweetener, but now I have NO idea what it was. It could come to me at any moment, though. Or not.