The dreaded “About” section, aka, the Wikipedia for the “who cares”!
And the Sisters of the Sacred Heart wrote: Lari-Jean is hyperactive, doesn’t pay attention, can’t focus, talks too much is jittery and overall hyperactive. She doesn’t apply herself to her work and needs to “buckle down.” These comments consistently were written on the back of every report card as I did my 8-year sentence at Parochial School, circa 1960’s & 1970’s. The Nuns were ruthless. Out on winter parole one year, conquered, up to my ears in “Hail Mary’s,” and realizing I was not going to ease my way through Purgatory even if I paid the Catholic Church, I told my parents I was going to Public High School & I don’t care if I go to Hell.
If I were to have a theme song as a child, it would be…♫Diamonds, daisy’s, snowflakes, That Girl!♫…Yea, I do resemble Mario Thomas, and as a kid, I wanted to be just like her TV character Ann Marie! But I’m more like a cross between the characters, Rhoda Morgenstern from the TV sitcom “Rhoda” & Mona Lisa Vito from the film “My Cousin Vinny.”
Why hiLARIousJEAN™? Because my given name is Lari-Jean. My Father’s name was Larry, my Grandfather’s name was Larry, and I married someone who’s name is Larry. Creepy and freaky don’t ya think? But I always loved stand-up comedy and attempted to make it a career. So that name? It was pretty much a given.
I’m proud to be equipped with a sharp wit and a rapid tongue singing words to the musical cadence pitch of a true New Yorker. After years of attempting to find my calling in the world of “showbiz” – it got the best of me, and I folded. I now pass my time away in Suburbia finding the funny in everyday life. I’m a woman, a wife and am the oldest Mother of an elementary school-aged child. I have the uncanny ability to match a human being’s physical look with their cartoon character’s counterpart, the toes on my feet are so long I can actually pick up a hardball and throw a curveball, and my home is always show-ready-to-sell. Hey, you never know when you gotta go!
I’m an American, an Italian and, I’m tired.
Read on to understand a bit more about hiLARIousJEAN™ and my DNA.
My Father (had the somewhat physical guise of Paul Sorvino in every Mob movie) was, unfortunately, a man with an undiagnosed bipolar disorder. A frustrated wanna-be dancer, who had a sharpness for humor and a penchant for articulating some of the funniest anecdotes at many a cocktail party. He’d end everything he did with the saying, “Badda Bing, Badda Boom.” One hell of a showman! Only to be regulated to managing the front-end of his old-fashioned Italian Uncle’s grocery store and passing through life with the vice for playing illegal card games and at times a bookmaker with a group of neighborhood guys on the west side of our town. You know, in the movies, they are known as a bunch of Goodfellas.
My Mother (a cross between the character “Rizzo” in Grease and Sophia Loren (depending on the wig) was a woman who married my Father because she needed to get away from her Mother. A wanna-be dancer herself (I mean there was no other way my parents would have ever met otherwise). She has a disability that only allows her to be able to perform one activity per day; the talent for being invited to a dance social almost every Saturday night and then have the uncanny ability to idle the day away and ready herself for that night’s bash. A flair for applying a full face of make-up every day while wolfing down her daily allotment of Lark cigarettes (I’m happy to report she’s been on the wagon for years). To this day, I have yet to see my Mother’s real hair or make-up-less face. Let’s just say the foundation of my childhood smelled like Max Factor, engulfed by the essence of fragrant jigs.
…and hiLARIousJEAN™ was born.