She refers once or twice to the “orange piece of shit” who’s president of the United States (and, once, to “Sarah Fuckety Fuckface”), but Judy Gold isn’t belaboring the point in this summer’s show at the Art House. Instead, like other great comedians, she’s keeping it local, checking out audience members and riffing about daily life in New York and Provincetown.

She may be, in fact, just the antidote we all need for this Summer of Trump.

Gold is self-deprecating, dry, and irresistible. She talks about relationships, being Jewish, and having a therapist: in other words, about life. She complains and rants. She garners laughter, groans, applause, and joy. Gold sticks tightly to her razor-sharp dissection of everyday events, the stuff that gets audience members nodding in synchronized recognition. And while the night I was there a number of her jokes centered around lesbians, it was probably the two bears in the front corner who were laughing the most wholeheartedly with her.

There are extremely few people who can wring so much comedy out of so much disgruntledness. Vegan? Avoiding dairy or gluten? Gold is seriously gunning for you. How many extra letters are we planning to add to the LGBTQI array? She has some ideas, most of them outrageous. Want to tell her your reactions to her show? She’ll read your letter onstage.

I find this all completely reassuring. At a time when the issues facing the country and the planet are so horrifying as to feel insurmountable, it’s good to be reminded that other people, too, walk into the next room and forget what they came for. That we’re not the only ones who get impatient with our spouses. That life in lowercase continues with its own frustrations and ironies and moments of happiness even while life in uppercase seems intent on blowing up the world.

Judy Gold is the best antidote to everything that’s wrong in 2018. She is why—occasionally—we can have nice things around here, after all.

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