Modified On September 6, 2007
The UK Guardian reports on a study by British scientists who found that the rockstar lifestyle is bad for one’s health. What is the British equivalent of “Duh!”
By comparing the lives– and more importantly, deaths– of rock and pop stars with the rest of the population they have found that in the first five years after chart success, the mortality rate of performers shoots up to three times that of the rest of us. And living fast as a rock megastar does make you die young– of the 100 performers in the sample who died early, the average age was 42 for North American stars and just 35 for those in Europe.
One of the eggheads said, “the data could be used to prevent rock’n’roll deaths.” Accidents, overdoses and cancer were high on the list of causes, while violence and suicide were low on the list.
On the other hand, AP is running an item on a Japanese study found that getting up early will kill you.
“Rising early to go to work or exercise might not be beneficial to health, but rather a risk for vascular diseases,” said an abstract of the study.
So: Living like a rock star will kill you and living like a scrupulously responsible adult will kill you as well.
Comics seem to live a lifestyle that’s right down the middle. We’d love to see the stats on comedians. There are exceptions, sadly, but the majority seem to live well into their 80s! We’re like cockroaches! George Burns, most notably, had a career surge at 79 and lived to be 100!
They say that laughter is the best medicine, but doling out the laughter seems like a pretty good health plan, too. Of course, not everyone is convinced.
A guest column in yesterday’s Toronto Star trots out the lauging on the outside/crying on the inside/comics are suicidal horse manure. It reaches it’s low point here:
Maintaining confidence after having your success judged by a different crowd every night is like having emotional stability after being cheated on by every other partner you’ve dated.
What’s really horrific is that the column was penned by a comedian. And then we read a paragraph that begins with:
The more you think about it, the easier it is to understand the reasons some stand-ups find it hard to roll out of bed in the morning.
The case made by Sabrina Jalees (even though it’s made partially in jest) is thin and based on a shaky foundation. And, were it actually, genuinely funny, we might let the mushy premises slide. But we know comedians, by and large, at least in our experience, are not suicidal, morose, insecure or fearful. If they were, they wouldn’t be comedians. Let’s face it, the job requires the exact opposite of those qualities. We’ve grown accustomed to the folks in the press and the pop culture slagging us this way. We cringe when we see a comic joining in on the stomping.
The Male Half once said, in a column on the subject of bombing, that comedians possess a unique set of survival skills. Those that lack these skills either never attempt comedy or wash out quickly.
Other comics… will tell you, with a straight face, that they have never bombed. They are to be forgiven, for deep within the grey folds of each comic’s brain is a chemical or a process or a device which enables us to forget the truly horrific performances. It is a necessary thing and a useful one. For, if we were to remember vividly each and every awful onstage experience, however could we summon the courage to mount the stage again? This ability to forget might be the thing that separates standup comics from people who “tried it once and never did it again.” After all, the possibility of the bomb is what prevents most people from trying standup in the first place. If you can’t get past the fear of it, you never try in the first place. If you can’t get over one, you never continue your quest! And forgetting is the best way to get over one.
Perhaps this defense mechanism also serves as a shield from The Grim Reaper.