Cho turns personal pain into laughter MCA show a forum for issues, enjoyment

As Richard Pryor has shown, some of the best humor often comes from the comic’s pain.

Margaret Cho proved she understands that concept in her 80-minute show Wednesday night at the Maine Center for the Arts in Orono. Her longtime eating disorders, the racism and sexism she has endured, the homophobia many of her friends have faced – all were grist for her mill.

And, like many of the best comics, she made the 984 in attendance at Hutchins Concert Hall think while they were laughing.

Much of the articulate Cho’s material was off-color, and unfortunately doesn’t transfer well to an all-ages newspaper. Still, many of her observations do.

A comic for 17 years, Cho said she wanted to be an entertainer since her childhood.

“But I didn’t see a lot of opportunities on TV,” she recalled. “I could be an extra on ‘M*A*S*H.’ I could play Arnold’s girlfriend on ‘Happy Days.’ I could play a hooker on something.”

Cho, making her first trip to Maine, said she often forgets she’s Asian, but racially aware remarks by others remind her.

“We’re like that ad for Nuprin says: We’re little, yellow and different,” she said.

Cho dealt with eating disorders from a young age. She and her also overweight brother would swim many laps in a pool. Afterward, her mother would pick them up and take them to McDonald’s to eat. Then, as if nothing had happened, they would have supper with her strict father, who disapproved of his daughter being overweight.

“We learned that eating was a criminal act, which made us outlaws, kind of a chubby gang,” she said.

This led to her 20-year battle with anorexia and bulemia. That ended one day when she added up all the minutes she spent checking herself out in mirrors or plate-glass windows.

“It ended up being about 92 minutes a week,” she said. “I could take a pottery class. That’s when I took myself out of the game. I refused to play anymore.”

Still single, Cho said the world regards single people as incomplete.

“I view husbands like tattoos,” she said. “I’d like to get one, but I’m not sure what I want. Also, I don’t want to get one and decide I don’t like it, then I’ll need to get it surgically removed. Why don’t they make henna husbands?”

After growing up in San Francisco, Cho has many gay and lesbian friends, and understands the discrimination they face. She wants gays to be able to marry.

“Any government that doesn’t allow gay men access to a bridal registry is a fascist state,” she said.

For the last third of her show, Cho had the house lights brought up and asked for questions from the audience. While this kind of halting arrangement slowed her show’s momentum, it allowed the crowd to learn more about the inner Cho.

On dealing with homophobes, racists and sexists: “Anger is so corrosive inside your body. It’s like taking poison and hoping that the other person dies. Eventually, the anger just turns to sadness for such people.”

She ended the evening by observing that she’d like to gather all the minorities together.

“Then we’d be the majority, and we’d have the power,” she noted, exiting to a standing ovation.

Cho may not be the brand-name comedian she deserves to be at this stage in her career, but she does show the power that words have not just to amuse but also to heal.