So, when you sit to read Tommy Chong’s CHEECH & CHONG: THE UNAUTHORIZED AUTOBIOGRAPHY, about the history of the classic ’70s comedy duo, here’s pretty much what you’d expect:
CHAPTER ONE: WEED
Man, I love to smoke weed. Lighting up a bowl would be awesome right now. You know what would hit the spot? Some sticky-icky Maui-wowie bud! Whoa, I could go for a pizza! Hey, someone’s at the door … they want Dave. Dave’s not here, man! And that’s how Cheech met me, Chong …hey, what was I talking about?
And so on.
Imagine my surprise that, while not the best writer, Chong is a pretty competent enough writer that he only digresses and loses his train of thought about once a page. What’s really surprising is that contrary to my popular belief about the effects of marijuana, Chong remembers just about everything about the early, early, early days of Cheech and Chong, when Cheech Marin, the son of an LAPD cop, was a draft-dodging ski instructor in Canada, and Chong was in a Canadian R&B band that was courted by Motown.
So how exactly do they go from that to, well, the poster boys for stoner giggles? That’s what we really want to know. It’s the whole point of the book, right? It is titled CHEECH & CHONG: THE UNAUTHORIZED AUTOBIOGRAPHY, after all.
Therein lies the trouble: While Chong remembers everything about Cheech and Chong, the individuals, he seems to have either forgotten or has no interest in talking about the reason we bought the damn book: the history of Cheech & Chong as a comedy team. Here’s how the book should have started:
CHAPTER ONE: THE DAY I MET CHEECH
Cheech was from L.A., and I was from Canada. It was a nice, cool Canadian day when I accidentally bumped into Cheech while walking down the street. He hit his head pretty hard, and in his confusion, asked me if “Dave was here.” I said, “No man, Dave’s not here right now!” We both had a hearty chuckle and immediately went to record this, our first-ever comedy bit. We couldn’t wait to go on stage tomorrow as Chong and Cheech’s Cheebatastic Olde Tyme Comedy Revue …
This should have started with maybe three pages of biographical info, at the most, and then BAM! — they meet, smoke some pot and whip up the Sgt. Stadanko bit. And when it gets to this point, it’s a great, wholly interesting read. But this bio is a little over 251 pages, and they don’t even meet until around page 77 or so. No offense, Chong, but I don’t care about all your formative years playing in various bands, the celebs you ran into, the children you fathered or how hot you think your wife Shelby is. Save that for your own individual bio (or did you already? I didn’t read THE I CHONG).
When he’s telling the story behind certain comedy bits or, even better, behind the scenes of their movies, I loved this book. The backstabbing, the battle of nerves and the formation of their ideas save the book from being a total pan. But they are so few and far between that I don’t think I can really recommended to anyone except die-hard C&C fans.
For example, the story of how they Cheech came up with the Chicano/lowrider character lasts a page and a half; the story of how a bank made a mistake and accidentally gave Chong $2,000 goes on for, get this, nine pages. Good thing he didn’t find $5 while walking down the street, or else he would have had to add an extra 10 pages!
Oh, and here’s this mental image: “Hey, I like dressing up in women’s clothes myself. I think it’s kinda sexy in a kinky sort of way and your balls are not cramped up like they are in jeans.”
CHEECH & CHONG: THE UNAUTHORIZED AUTOBIOGRAPHY is the literary equivalent of a roach clip of skunk: It may get you a little high, but is it really worth the painful headache that follows? Unless your a total Cheech & Chong completist, I’d do what Nancy Reagan suggested and “just say no.” —Louis Fowler
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
What the hell did you expect??
“It was a dark and dismal day. I put on my finest petticoat and went for a stroll.” No you’re going to get “Mans” and “Pizza” and “Duuude”.
He’s a comedian. I understand you read it for some supposedly interesting reads, and for this terrible review.
I honestly don’t even know what to say about that review. What the heck were you looking for? It’s about Cheech and Chong, and of course, since he wrote the damn book, he’s going to write about himself first. You can’t just jump in on a note. Aside the fact from him being 72, he’s going to have to recall a crap load of memories to make sure he follows up to the story well.
2,000 dollars, that sounds like a big deal to me. I bet there was more to it that “I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank, I was accidentally given 2,000 dollars from a bank.”
And 5 dollars is a big deal too! Nice attempt at a joke though… leave it to the pros, Ma’am.
So, maybe you should stick to reading your “Dane Cook” and “Pompous asshole autobiography’s” and just let the man make some dough off a book. Besides they let ANYONE write a book now a days, just as they let ANYONE write a review online.
Love,
An asshole.
I’m thinking the “Dane Cook” and “Pompous asshole autobiography’s” would be the same book. Wow, and what’s with all the anger? Methinks someone needs to smoke a bowl and mellow out.
Love,
ANYONE