A Dusty Slay birthday

If laughter is the best medicine, I may have a drug problem. In fact, it’s the only medicine I’ll take on the regular.

As I age, I find humor to be the most reliable way to lift my mood and generally feel better. At least 226 of you who posted on my Facebook timeline already know, but I recently had a birthday to commemorate the aforementioned aging. To help me celebrate, my family, who knows me very well and can, at this point in my life, predict with 100% accuracy what I will say or do in any given situation, threw me a little birthday party.

They refused to reveal the planned activities, and even though I tried several sneaky conversational interrogation methods with the two boys at home to get them to spill the beans, they kept it in the vault. Harris was immediately on to me, mostly because I never reveal any secrets and he knows better. With Carlton, I tried hitting him with questions right after he woke up, but I failed to account for the fact that any number of questions causes him to shut down.

Carla in particular relished having a secret and kept bringing up the fact that she had a secret. I knew that deep down she really wanted to tell me because she is not good at keeping secrets. (Yes, anyone who has told her something in confidence, you should be worried right about now.)

When I arrived home from work on Friday, August 1, and was greeted with a hearty “surprise” by Carla, Meg, Mama and my three boys, I quickly learned the reason for the secrecy. They had planned a themed birthday party. A Dusty Slay party. Regular readers of New South Essays will already know of my fondness for the clean-but-edgy, Southern-infused comedic stylings of Dusty Slay. But in case you don’t know, having a Dusty Slay themed birthday party was as exciting to me on my 55th birthday as having a Star Wars themed birthday party when I was 8.

Now, unlike a Star Wars or GI Joe or Scooby Doo birthday party from back in the day, my 55th birthday party didn’t have matching cups, plates and napkins with Dusty’s face emblazoned on them. (His team should really consider that for his merch.)

We did have a cake with Dusty things sticking into it, a string of Dusty images hanging in the celebratorily decorated dining room, and plates and napkins in a plaid pattern (which I guess is Dusty’s favorite color?) Carla also ordered up a buffet of catered items from Cracker Barrel, on account of Dusty being their spokescomedian.

Dusty fans will know that his latest Netflix special, Wet Heat, dropped July 29, just in time for my birthday. When I saw all the Dusty stuff, I knew the reason behind all the subterfuge. They didn’t want me to know we would be watching “Wet Heat” as the evening’s featured entertainment. Little did I know that the real surprise was Carla’s loving gift of two tickets to see Dusty live at Symphony Hall in Atlanta August 9.

It was a secret well-kept that garnered the expected reaction. I appreciate the effort to keep this information from me because it made it feel more special. The anticipation increased my enjoyment, and having my family gathered around the table and then the living room laughing was an even greater gift.

I’m a comedy fan, not a critic, so I will not offer any notes on “Wet Heat.” I will remind New South Essay readers that Dusty is clean, but he does have an edge. There may be content you find objectionable, and New South Essays is not liable for any offense you may take at his references to uh… substances. That said, his fidgety delivery is now well-honed, and whether he is commenting on elevator branding or having kids, it’s the subtler moments that make me laugh the hardest.

I’m looking forward to hearing his new material tonight, but I have to be honest, I am struggling to associate his Alabama trailer park upbringing with Atlanta’s Symphony Hall. I have seen him in comedy clubs (The Punchline) and a more… earthy… theater (Center Stage), and that seemed to fit his idiom. This will be our first time seeing Dusty in a fancy music hall.

I’ll be sure to report back on what it was like. Keep your eye out for a special, mid-week edition of New South Essays with all the details.

In the meantime, I do appreciate all the love my friends and family showed me on my birthday. You can rest assured we were having a good time.