A Sublime Comedy: Joe Versus the Volcano at 35
Friday, March 9, 1990, was a pivotal day in my life, because it’s the day I picked up the phone and called the young woman who would, eight months later, somehow agree to marry me. I was twenty-six years old, living in Los Angeles, and awaiting the sacrament of confirmation in the Catholic Church (which I received the following weekend). The call itself was a bit of a “Hail Mary” because Sarah lived in Boston, which was then a long way from Los Angeles culturally as well as geographically. Also,…