Poundstone puts her life into her humor

By Derek Paiva
Advertiser Staff Writer

Paula Poundstone was in the mood to own up to a few things.

Getting old. The habitual vomiting of her nine cats on her map of the United States rug. Going broke. No longer being a prime candidate for rental housing as a convicted felon.

Strolling on stage in blue jeans and a black jacket over a green shirt and multi-colored tie combo, Poundstone didn't take long to poke mildly self-deprecating fun at some obviously still-smarting moments of her recent past.

"I had a couple of sucky years there," cracked Poundstone, in a mocking, "Oh, by the way, didja hear?" tone between healthy swigs from a bottle of diet cola. "You know, it was kept hush hush in deference to my family."

Mining humor by cracking wise on her own personal foibles has always been a hallmark of Poundstone's shtick. Her self-admitted obsessive-compulsive disorder, she has said, keeps her from holding back secrets and clamming up when it might be wiser to do both.

So it was hardly surprising when Poundstone touched often on the aftereffects of her 2001 arrest for drunken driving. After pleading no contest to charges of child endangerment — she was driving her three adopted children, and two foster children at the time — Poundstone went through a time- and money-consuming 18 months of litigation to return them to her custody.

On stage, Poundstone's acknowledgement of her now gone, but hardly forgotten, legal travails were handled with brutal, often heartbreakingly uncomfortable honesty always gently tempered by humor.

"In my defense, I was drunk," said Poundstone, to hearty laughter from the several hundred-strong crowd. "There are red flags when you drink. But they're kind of blurry and they zip on by."

Much of the single mother's humor last night was centered on her family — three kids (ages 5 through 12) and a menagerie of pets. Commenting on the oddity that is the Poundstone household, she joked about a recent evening of allowing her kids to watch "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" on television "because against that backdrop, I really shine."

On the brilliant idea of introducing a new pit bull and German shepherd mixed breed into a house populated by cats weeks before entering rehab, Poundstone quipped, "The cats were hiding the alcohol on their own after that."

She followed with the audience question, "Does anyone else's pet store have a wine section?"

At other times, the comedian was happy just interacting with the audience or commenting on a variety of non-Poundstonian subjects. Politics, trans-fatty acids, and atheism were all mined for laughs. Herself an atheist, Poundstone explained why you'll never find her going door-to-door to convert.

"Can you imagine? ... 'I just thought I'd stop by and say there is no Lord ... and drop off this blank book.' "

Later, grousing about recently filling out the lengthiest confession form ever on illegally transporting fruit into a state, she observed, "Apparently, terrorism hasn't come to this part of the world. ... I mean, some of the questions were essays."

On the futility of her conversation with a Hawai'i agriculture inspector:

Poundstone: "My entire body is loaded up with dynamite!"

Ag inspector: "Yes, but do you have any tangerines?"

Two hours into the show, the still energized Poundstone remained in no great hurry to get back to her hotel.

Admitted Poundstone: "I have no closing ... I usually just talk until people can't take it anymore."

To her credit, no one in the crowd seemed eager to leave, either.

Reach Derek Paiva at dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8005.