By Josh Gondelman — 06 Apr 2026

#178. Horseradish and You

See you next year, same glass jar of horseradish from this year!

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Hi everyone,

After three weeks on the west coast, I am (briefly) back home. This weekend I fly to Cincinnati for four shows at the Commonwealth Comedy Club, and then to our nation's capital for one show at the DC Improv on Sunday night! Come hear some jokes, people who live nearby!

I am so happy to have returned home to Maris and Maggie the Pug, but I am not an LA hater. Los Angeles has many fine qualities. My second and third weeks in town presented almost unnervingly pleasant weather. I enjoy that (contrary to popular wisdom) every day comprises three seasons if you wake up early enough and stay up late enough to experience morning, afternoon, and night. I continued to see great friends and eat fresh produce since the last time I newslettered.

I also want to chronicle how efficiently the elevator at my hotel operated. My room was on the seventh floor and I never waited more than 5-10 seconds between pressing the button and the doors parting. I do not know what kind of motor or lubricant this hotel uses to keep its ups and downs moving so quickly. I assume, given a sufficient length of cable, this elevator could carry its passengers straight to hell in mere instants or zip Charlie Bucket into orbit as fast as the Artemis II.

Speaking of space, I feel like I've been away for one zillion news cycles ranging from a mission to the moon to Kristi Noem's husband's giant boobs to Pam Bondi's firing to countless war crimes to the Academy Awards. In true "Hotel California" style, it seemed possible that all of human history would transpire before I left the state.

Tentative Agreement Reached graphic I snatched from Instagram from the WGA East and West accounts. — Deal!

The new item that defined my month, however, is that we bargained a contract! I can't say too much because we're still awaiting approval from WGA leadership and membership. But the tentative agreement was officially announced late on Saturday night, so I can say that much. It was a true honor to serve on the negotiating committee alongside so many thoughtful and accomplished union members who are so devoted to the Guild, to writers, and to the craft of writing. The process was intense at times, but the committee and the staff worked diligently and collaboratively, and I will remember the group and the experience for as long as I have a working memory.

So, I'm home for a few days, and I spent a brisk, damp Easter Sunday inside with Maris and Maggie, which was a dream come true. Maris and I saw Jacqueline Novak perform at the Bell House, and she was so funny. When we arrived, the speakers in the front bar at the venue was playing "Hail Mary" by 2Pac and the showroom was playing "Hypnotize" by Biggie and frankly that's too much tension to create pre-show. Was the universe trying to ease me back from the west coast to the east coast??? I can't imagine that's what was going on, but I will take this flimsy excuse to share the best cafe artwork I saw in LA (narrowly beating out the framed photo of OJ Simpson's car chase). I present to you...Happy Coffee 2Pac!

A painting (?) of 2Pac happily holding a mug of coffee. — Don't even 'Pac 2 me until I've had my coffee.

Tonight (Monday!) I'm co-hosting Frankenstein's Baby at Union Hall with my good friend Alison Leiby whom I have not seen in weeks. I imagine we will be extra chaotic (drunk) for this one. And on Wednesday I'm putting up a little bit for my friends' Jill, Sasha, and Moujan's show Late Night Is (Not) Cancelled at Asylum. Ticket info in the calendar below.

PEP TALK FOR HORSERADISH

A bottle of Gold's Prepared Horseradish. — Why does that horseradish root look like a thigh-high boot?

Due to a combination of factors (travel, but mostly my own poor planning), I didn't attend any Passover seders this year. I enjoy the explicitly mandated seder traditions such as the Four Questions, which is such a Jewish practice, to essentially require that the youngest person in attendance ask: "Hey what the fuck is going on here?" I also appreciate the unwritten customs, such as speed running the first 2/3 of the Haggadah to get to dinner.

Many of the foods eaten during Passover carry symbolic significance. Matzah represents that the bread baked by the Jewish people fleeing Egypt did not have time to rise before the exodus. The coconut macaroons we eat for dessert (not technically leavened) represent our people's love of finding loopholes. If I recall correctly, gefilte fish symbolizes the occasional need to get a little freaky with it. Charoset, a kind of apple chutney that is honestly pretty good, but not quite good enough that you eat it any other time during the year, represents the mortar our ancestors used to build while they were enslaved. And horseradish (a stand in for any bitter herbs) reminds us of the bitterness of that period in our history. Taken as whole, the meal is a metaphor for the Jewish people's reluctance to ever let anything go.

As a little kid, I found the taste of horseradish overpowering. It made my eyes water. I'd drip the smallest stain I could on a piece of matzah to fulfill my obligation to choke a little down. (The horseradish made with beets acts as a handy tracing dye, like the kind you'd have injected before a biopsy.) "If this is meant represent slavery," I would think, "slavery must have really sucked ass."

Now that my adult palate has more fully developed, I enjoy horseradish, which is practically beneficial but metaphorically complicated. I don't think appreciating the flavor profile of a symbol of forced labor is spiritual BDSM, but I could be wrong. I do think it is cool that people change over time, and it's helpful to have an pleasant reminder of that fact. I also think it it's beautiful that Judaism has a metaphor for suffering that tastes good as hell on steak. It's enough to make me feel the presence of a higher power.

PEP TALK FOR A READER

I trimmed some context from the beginning and end of this request, and I've added the nickname myself.

My wife was recently diagnosed with a rare cancer. It's treatable with a combination of surgery and chemo, and by all accounts we caught it in good time, but still, it's one of the big curveballs of our life together so far. She had surgery a week ago and just came home from the hospital this weekend. We're both relieved to have her home and exhausted at everything that's happened and still has to happen to get and keep her well. It feels like every hour is either total adrenaline or total fatigue. How can we deal with these (very serious) problems and still keep things in balance and perspective?
- Wife Support

Amidst all this bad and scary news, I'm so relieved to hear that the doctors found your wife's cancer early and that she's come through the surgery part of her recovery intact. That said, I got to enjoy my friend Alex Kumin's work in progress show about surviving cancer, and what a strange feeling it is to be told you have "the good kind" of any disease.

I forget where I first heard the following advice several years ago, but it was during a period when I was touring pretty heavily, and I was psychically bonking myself over the head for not getting more work done on other projects while I was on airplanes and at hotels and in green rooms.

The advice I received was: "This is the job." As in, the thing you're doing now is the endeavor that demands your time. As in, what you're doing is enough unto itself. As in, anything else you manage to accomplish on top of this primary occupation is gravy, house money, an unexpected bonus.

I'd like to pass "this is the job" on to you, not as advice, but as a mantra. For your wife, healing is the job. For you, being there for her is the job. When things feel overwhelming, "this is the job" can serve as a reminder of priorities. Sometimes other responsibilities fall by the wayside when you've got a big job to do.

"But I already have a job!" you might say. Sure, but that's not the job right now. You can't tell the people at work this, but your job is now a side hustle, it's in second position. At work you're moonlighting. If something small falls between the cracks while you're there, it's like tossing a gutter ball on bowling night. You'll get 'em next time. No harm, no foul. Job is hobby for now. (But again, don't tell job.)

Here's the other side of the "this is the job" coin: Think about all the creative ways you have found over the years to make work bearable. Indulging in a fancy snack. Making plans for what you'll do when you clock out. Sneaking a nap. These strategies also apply during this stressful period.

It sounds to me like your wife's health is moving in the right direction. She's enduring the hardest part of a grueling but temporary process, and you are holding her hand as she heals. Maybe it will help to consider: This is not forever. This is not all-encompassing. This is the job.

PICK-ME-UP SONG OF THE WEEK:
GZA (feat. Tom Morello) - "The Mexican"

YouTube served this song to me on Sunday morning, and I am not sure whether I'll listen to it after this week, but I did get a kick out of it existing. I missed Rage Against the Machine and Wu-Tang touring together when I was a tween, and this song coming into being now is a time machine that only travels exactly thirty years into the past.

GZA raps in the way he has rapped for decades. With enough time, his flow could carve a New Grand Canyon through the Arizona desert. You (the listener) wait around for Tom Morello to do his Tom Morello thing, and then whoomp there that is as well. After nearly a month away from home, I appreciated the unexpected encounter with something new that felt so reliable.

Oh also!!! My friend Myq Kaplan has a new comedy album out as well as a set with Don't Tell. Myq's jokes are so funny and thoughtful and intricate! I think you would enjoy checking them out!