I Know I Am, But What Are You?

My kids have gotten a fair amount of education from The Daily Show. Yes, that means tutoring in sardonic humor. But I also credit the half hour Comedy Central show for giving them a hefty dose of media awareness and political savvy, plus comfortable familiarity with authors who have written a wide range of books on politics, history, and current events. Some members of my family have watched every episode of *The Daily Show *since Jon Stewart started hosting over a decade ago. That’s a fairly lengthy addiction.

So I had to grab the memoir by The Daily Show cast member, Samantha Bee, who (at least on air) nods so frequently that it seems she’s a living bobblehead. I tend to wonder what she’s affirming with all that nodding. Well now I know. She’s reminding herself that she’s a regular on a hit TV show after jolting through such a strangely disturbing hilarious childhood.

The pages of I Know I Am, But What Are You? describe a seven-year-old who had her own apartment, detested the outdoors, and considered Jesus her boyfriend. By eight she was reading pornography (provided by her mother for educational purposes) and doing her best to live exclusively on junk food. Bee managed to find love and balance in a family made up of doting grandparents, a strict stepmother, and wildly different parents. She grew up to pursue diverse jobs including blackjack dealer, erectile dysfunction clinic assistant, and star of a traveling seven minute Sailor Moon show which she explains “was so ridiculous that it could have been written by a basket of acorns that had fallen onto a laptop by mistake.”

Now when I tune in to The Daily Show, each of Bee’s confident nods affirm that the girl who used to date perverts and steal cars is really just looking forward to growing elderly enough to match her hideous “I gut fish for a living” hands. Sometimes I even find myself nodding back at the screen.