It’s been a month since Lisa Geduldig lost her mother, Arline. But the SF-based comedian still finds herself searching for her.
“I’m just going through this whole thing of four weeks of trying to make sense where it doesn’t make sense,” says the Kung Pao Kosher Comedy and Lockdown Comedy founder, who’s making her final Lockdown Comedy (Thu/19, 7pm on Zoom, more info here) a tribute to her late mom, a later-in-life comedian and regular on Geduldig’s virtual monthly stand-up showcase.
“My brain does not believe she died,” she continues. “I was just at her house in Florida before coming back to San Francisco. It’s like, ‘Where are you? Are you hiding under the bed or in the closet?’ The brain doesn’t compute.”
Other times, Geduldig feels heartsick and admits to having had at least one episode of chest pains. But she says she’s confident that as painful as it gets, she will survive this monumental loss.
Arline Geduldig died on August 7 at the age of 93, but her memory is still so alive for her daughter (not to mention the thousands of fans from around the world who regularly tuned in to watch her stand up).
How could it not be? The mother-and-daughter duo were so close, becoming inseparable in recent years.
While some lost their parents during the pandemic and others were separated from them, the lockdown bonded the Geduldigs more than ever before.
After Arline suffered a heart attack in the summer of 2019, Lisa regularly flew to the East Coast to take care of her. When getting on the plane in March of 2020, she was anticipating another two-week trip, but two weeks turned into 17 months of lockdown and altogether a total of three years of commuting.
“At my mom’s house, it just felt like home,” says Geduldig. “I hadn’t lived with her since I was 17, and suddenly I was doing so again at 58. I wouldn’t trade in these past four and a half years for anything. My mom and I got to know each other.”
The pair ate three meals a day together and kibbitzed, sharing things that they never had the opportunity to say before. They played canasta with two other residents in the retirement community most days and Lisa tucked her mom into bed each night.
“I was suddenly living what I had made fun of for the last 30 years of my comedy career: residing in a retirement community in Florida, eating dinner at 4pm, and playing canasta,” she jokes.
Four months into living together, Geduldig discovered just how funny her mom was and took the risk of putting Arline in her first Lockdown Comedy show, a monthly series on Zoom, which aimed to entertain those sheltering in place who were desperate for a few laughs.
For a makeshift camera, Geduldig got creative, positioning an iPad in an underwear drawer.
She remembers writing her mother’s first performance bio: “Arline Geduldig was born in Brooklyn, raised her kids on Long Island, and moved to Florida, as is Jewish law.”
As a novice, Arline began writing potential material on Post-its, but Lisa insisted she use a comedy notebook to jot down her jokes about urology appointments, her kids, and the hot firemen she looked forward to visiting at the local station for routine blood pressure checks.
Geduldig says she tried to teach her mom about callbacks, reaction times, and laugh lines, but Arline insisted on doing her own thing.
The professional comedian encouraged her mom to prepare and hone her jokes but the latter preferred to do her routine off the cuff and talk about things like “ducks fucking.”
“She was adorable,” says Geduldig. “She was like my little toy that I got to put on stage and play with. But she really got to shine.”
What was supposed to be a one-time thing caught on and Arline was asked back month after month. She quickly developed a fan club and got a positive write-up in the Los Angeles Times.
“Everyone was like, ‘I love your mom. Is she coming back?’” she recalls.
At a time when so many were separated from their families, Geduldig acknowledges that it must have meant a lot to viewers to see a mother and daughter living and working together so harmoniously.
“Between Lockdown Comedy and the whole life I was documenting on Facebook, I think a lot of people were living vicariously,” says Geduldig. “It just became this mom-daughter web series that people could follow. As people grew to love her, for some, she became the mom they wish they had.”
Arline, a traditionally private person, learned to love her new public life and the overwhelmingly glowing response from fans: whether in the press, Facebook comments, or heartfelt emails.
“I would read her the fan letters and she would love them,” she says.
The outpouring of support only intensified after Arline’s passing.
“People just sent the most beautiful emails,” says Geduldig.
Without her mother by her side, she is uncertain about the future of Lockdown Comedy, especially as the demand for online shows has waned. But her desire to give her mom a fitting tribute before putting the show to bed is clear.
The performers for Geduldig’s final installment of Lockdown Comedy—Wendy Liebman, Scott Blakeman, and Eve Meyer—are all comedians who developed a friendship with and deep respect for her mom.
Geduldig is currently searching for and assembling Arline’s funniest comedy clips into a sidesplitting sizzle reel she’ll play for viewers at the show. She also hopes to use some of the footage for a movie about her mother.
“I knew that I was taking these videos for when she was gone, and also the possibility of doing a film,” says Geduldig. “I’ve always had it in the back of my mind to do Arline and Me.”
For now, the comic’s annual Kung Pao Kosher Comedy, now 32 years strong, will continue in-person and online each December. But is there a monthly in-person showcase in the works to replace Lockdown Comedy?
“I’m just coming back to my life,” says Geduldig. “Like I just arrived in San Francisco, but I would like to get back to a monthly show.”
LOCKDOWN COMEDY Thu/19, 7pm on Zoom. $17-$28.50. Tickets and more info here.
