R.I.P. Ken Ober

Two days ago, a comic, the host of MTV's once insane show Remote Control, died at 52. Ken Ober was always funny and the first of our NY group to make it out to Hollywood and get a show. No one was surprised because he was fast on his feet and turned adlibbing into an art form. I knew him from the club scene in NY and the last time I saw him was at The Comedy Awards here in Hollywood. He was always nice and not one of those comics who took himself or his good fortune too seriously. He was kind to everyone.

He complained of headaches, chest pains and flu-like symptoms. These are things that always freak me out when I read them. How many times have any of us had symptoms and brushed them off?

My theory that female comics have more testosterone than normal women makes me act like a man and not want to go to the doctor. I'm sure there are some men who gallop to the internist but in general, they're not the first ones in the waiting room. And if you're one of those men, great. The rest of you? Please don't write me.

Of course I also believe that when it's your time to go, it's your time to go. I'll quote Woody Allen here, "I'm not afraid of dying. I just don't want to be there when it happens."