Sometimes comedy illuminates hard truths with a pointed urgency that other means can’t quite achieve. Sometimes comedy is just funny. This series of posts is mostly about the former instances, but the latter is valuable, too.

When I was younger, my appreciation of stand-up comedy approached obsession. It was in the waning heyday of the comedy album, but the real stoker of my fire was the relevant programming on HBO. And few things excited me more than the arrival of the annual Young Comedians Special, which trotted out a half dozen or so newcomers to perform tantalizing slices of their sets. I watched these programs over and over, practically memorizing the acts of my chosen favorites.

One of the comics who I immediately adored was a fellow who in the special is mistakenly introduced by co-host Dick Smothers as “Jerry Steinfeld.” Tommy Smothers had to offer a quick correction as the fresh-faced comic strode out to the stage. Seinfeld’s material wasn’t daring. It didn’t offer the jolt of surprise that could launch a performer immediately to the stratosphere on one of these shows (as was the case a few years later with Sam Kinison). Instead, it was perfectly structured amused observation, a classic routine polished to its ideal form. I never would have predicted comedy superstardom for him (then again, I was eleven years old when this aired, so no one was clamoring for my entertainment career forecasts), but he did seem like someone whose craft was so airtight that he’d be able to ply this odd trade forever.