long story short

Back in the "old normal," driving through the hellish Metro Manila traffic required a certain level of calmness, which on most days (and nights) for me meant listening to podcasts. It started out as a nostalgia thing - I wanted to relive my college years by listening to late-2000s The Morning Rush episodes (with just Chico and Delamar). But after the novelty of that wore off, I eventually stumbled upon content that  resonated more with my current interests: podcasts with my favorite comedians and screenwriters.

Marc Maron is the complete opposite of that. He connects with the audience, both through his stand-ups and his podcast, by revealing his soul, his innermost thoughts. Unlike Jerry, much of his comedy is shaped by his most seminal experiences. His life goes hand-in-hand with the art he produces. Much of his work is shaped by pain and grief. The way he performs is always in relation to his current state of mind. And that's what makes his comedy so resonant, because he doesn't shy away from what is messy and scary and f*cked up about his life, and life in general. 

Marc notes that Jerry's kind of comedy isn't much of a risk, as it doesn't involve putting himself in his comedy. But for Jerry, the very act of delivering jokes is putting himself out there. He doesn't have to go into the whys and hows of what makes his comedy work and why he enjoys doing it. Unlike Marc, he doesn't derive pleasure from figuring out certain aspects of himself through his work. He just wants to write jokes, period.

I loved that despite their very opposing views, they were actually hilarious together. It was like listening to two philosophers having different beliefs on what it means to be good. While their comedic ideologies are at odds with each other, no one is entirely right or wrong. The conversation brought out such unique insights on comedy and what it can mean to us. Marc tries to understand Jerry's way of thinking, because he wants to find out who the real "Jerry" behind the jokes is. But this is the real Jerry: the one that writes jokes. His comedy is as simple and straightforward as he is. On the other hand, Marc's comedic persona is complex and raw and transparent. He doesn't rely on what he wrote on paper - he tries out what he feels on the spot, he engages with his audience, he wears his heart on his sleeve. They're both honest about their craft, in their own ways. But they have a different way of expressing that. 

This is crucial for me, because it got me thinking about what comedy means to me. What attracts me to it and what makes it speak to me. Growing up, it was probably really just for the laughs. But eventually, many experiences - both traumatic and triumphant - changed the lens through which I saw life. I found comedy to be comforting, because it wasn't afraid to hit all kinds of buttons at the same time, to get a reaction out of you. Marc said it best: comedy had a way of putting the darkest parts of life into little packages that made you laugh, sure, ans it also put things into an interesting perspective.

It can be a way to deflect. But the thing about really great jokes? It deflects, and then almost immediately, it boomerangs right back at you. Shoot, recoil. And then finally, a moment of realization. And all in just a few seconds.

I agree that comedy doesn't have to come from a broken place, nor does it have to bring you there. But I think I'm partial to Marc's point of view. Personally, I prefer comedy when it comes from a place of pain and healing; when it finds wisdom in the difficult aspects of life. Because that's the kind of comedy that got me out of some of my darkest days. (Looking at you, Fleabag and BoJack Horseman.) And it's the kind of comedy that has the potential to actually change things, to shake up the status quo. I have full respect for Jerry and Seinfeld - that whole school of "comedy about nothing" - because, yes it succeeds brilliantly at what it attempts to do, and it doesn't require you to wrestle with difficult questions to enjoy it. We need that kind of funny.

But especially in these times, comedy has to mean something. It has to make sense of it all, and attempt to move people into action. Otherwise, how can we elevate the discourse? Why waste that opportunity to do so, right? Comedy is relatable. So why not make it matter at every chance?

That's the kind of writing that feels more transcendental to me. When the writing results in laughter and tears and reflection.

"An essential element in comedy: rage. Aggression, confrontation, resentment, irritation - there are varieties of it. You can't not have it. If you don't have it, you're not gonna get laughs. But I think the greatest use of it, of that rage, is to process it through a laugh machine."

There will always be things to laugh about. And we will always find the need for things to make us laugh, even and especially as we process grief, joy, fear, all kinds of emotions. I guess it's up to us - the audience - to decide whether we need the why behind what makes us laugh. Personally, I like coming face-to-face with the different spectrums of anger and sadness that compels me to find hilarity in the ridiculousness of life. It's challenging and rewarding. And it's oddly comforting.

There is something about comedy that sees you. At least, that's how it feels like to me. Sometimes, there are laughs that make us ask ourselves truly difficult questions. At the end of the day, if it gives us a clearer picture of who we are, and it allows us to keep going, then the joke has outlived its punch line and has done something truly meaningful. That's where the power of comedy lies. Not just in the immediate laugh, but in the lingering chuckle - and sentiment - that it leaves us with. 

And that's why I'm Team Marc on this one. But I'm still giving points to Jerry for Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, at least. 

It's still quite surreal to realize that it's been two years since our bar results came out. Every time it gets mentioned, my muscles tense up and my brain blanks out. (Talk about post-traumatic stress.) Considering the amount of pressure we all had to endure in the years leading up to our own bar exams, the feeling of anxiousness remains. I guess one never fully recovers from the experience of being at the mercy of such a long, arduous exam. Every year, even after your own results, you will find yourself saying, "Wow, lives are going to be changed today."

On the day of our bar's release, my mom, grandparents, and I went to Mass at Baclaran Church, in an attempt to make a final, desperate plea to God, Mama Mary, all the angels and saints. But the Mass finished at 10:00, and the results are coming out at noon, so there was still a long and agonizing two-hour wait. My grandma, as if on cue, decided they needed to buy some groceries, so off to S&R Macapagal we went. For the next hour or so, we all pretended to care about wholesale deals and rotisserie chicken. 

At around 11:30, somewhere along the aisle of bread and pastries, my mom received a call. It was from a family friend affiliated with the Supreme Court. She put it on speaker phone for the entire family (and quite frankly, that entire row of shelves) to hear:

"She passed! Her name is on the list."

And thus began what seemed like the longest, most bizarre, time-warping, continuum-shattering minute of my life, all while jumping, skipping, and hopping - in a dress. I could not believe it. I made it.

Minutes later, my phone got flooded with call, texts, and messages. The rest of the day went by like a blur. (The only other thing I could remember was the Razon's Halo-Halo they treated me to after shopping at S&R. It was the best reward/comfort food I could have asked for.)

Nothing has been the same since.

Life as a lawyer thus far has had its ups and downs. Some days are slow, some days are exciting; no two days are ever alike. I still doubt myself sometimes, and often feel like I'm still much closer to my wide-eyed, anxious bar reviewer self than some version of a confident, aggressive attorney. But I'm quite happy. Since then, I've appeared in court, reviewed contracts, prepared pleadings, attended search warrant enforcements, drafted university IP policies, and even got to teach. So many great things have happened since that day, and much of my families' prayers were answered on that fateful Thursday afternoon.

Two years ago, on April 26, our bar results came out. I took the bar and passed the bar at 26 years old. My birthday is also on the 26th (of October). On the list, I was bar passer 242 too. 24+2 = 26.

And interestingly enough, World Intellectual Property Day is celebrated on April 26.

Synchronicities are peculiar. I've never been one to anchor my fate on numbers, and I'm not sure if there really is a grand design to all this - but I'm inclined to think perhaps life gives us these patterns to remind us to trust in the Universe and its mysterious ways, and to always just believe that maybe, just maybe, some things are really meant to be. We just have to wait and let them unfold.

Happy anniversary, self! ❤

*

Today, thousands await the results of the 2019 bar exams.

For any #Bar2019 hopeful who might come across this blog: Whatever the outcome, your lives will be changed for good today. I hope this day will constantly remind you to remain humble, to always be of service, and to keep fighting.

Remember that you survived law school, hurdled bar review, and successfully took on all four Sundays of the bar exam. Those were all seemingly insurmountable, but you managed. Today's results are not an affirmation of your capability to overcome hardship. You already did! Trust me, ALL the experiences & lessons you learned in the last four to five years are what will help define the kind of lawyer you will be, not just the bar.

So when you do get admitted to the practice, don't stop reminding yourself that you are worth more than just an exam. Cheering for all of you! Claim it. Life can only get better from here on out.

 There's still so much more to learn, to do, and to achieve. Today is just the beginning. 🌻🌻🌻 

One of the few silver linings for me during this quarantine is finally getting the time to read. My book list has been growing steadily over the last few weeks, which is probably already more than what I got to read for leisure during law school and bar review. Like I've said, I'm still trying to get my old reading groove back, i.e. easing back into actually enjoying sentences, taking my time, and not feeling like highlighting everything in preparation for a recitation or an exam. 

So far, it's been going along smoothly. One big factor is that I've fully transitioned to reading e-books on my Surface Go. It's especially great during this time, because I can't physically go out and buy the books I want to read. So the Internet saves the day. 

These two books on US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Former US First Lady Michelle Obama have long been in my to-read list. They were marked "priority" for me as soon as quarantine started, and immediately finished them both in about a week. (Yeah, this book review is delayed, obviously.) I suppose you could chalk it up to the fact that they've led such colorful and inspiring lives, especially in the legal profession, so I was truly interested in their stories. But more than that, the reason why I devoured these books so quickly was because subconsciously, I wanted to have someone to cling on to - a leader, a symbol of hope, an idol - someone to look up to. We are living in extremely difficult times - and not just because of the virus. All over the world, leaders with no regard for equity and compassion are becoming more and more emboldened. It's frightening and disheartening. But hearing the stories of these two women and their rallying cry to always remain steadfast in their commitment to justice is truly inspiring. It's exactly what we need right now. 

1. "Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg" by Irin Carmon and Shana Knizhnik

I was actually torn between this and Justice RBG's own book, My Own Words. But that comprises a collection of RBG's speeches and writings dating back to the eighth grade. It wasn't exactly her autobiography. So I chose this one instead, which was, significantly, written by one of the creators of the "Notorious RBG" Tumblr page that started her newfound popularity in the 2010s in the first place. (If Shana Knizhnik ever evaluates her life, she should give herself a thousand good points for having created this in the first place, because it made one of the most intelligent and significant figures in US legal history more accessible to the general public, especially the youth. )

RBG led an ideal, happy childhood, with parents who recognized her intelligence and always pushed her towards excellence. However, her life was marred at an early age by the untimely demise of a younger sister when she was an infant, and her mother (who lovingly encouraged her to pursue greater things and apply at Cornell) passing away just right before her high school graduation. This only propelled her to seek greater heights. Soon after graduating from Cornell, she went to Harvard Law School. She eventually transferred to Columbia, as she needed to be with her husband, Marty, who was invited to teach in New York (also a Harvard alum) but was also just recovering from cancer. It was unbelievable how she had to balance being a wife to a sick husband, a mother to a young baby, and a law student all at once - but she did it all with panache, allowing herself to be the first woman editor in both the Harvard Law Review and Columbia Law Review because of her transfer, and graduating first of her class in Columbia. I mean, WOW. (I couldn't even finish a recit for Credit class without wanting to throw up.)

Most striking for me was the amount of misogyny that she had to encounter in the legal profession, from law school up to the practice. Being a "pioneer" in the field meant the glass ceiling was still very much in place during her time, and she had to do everything ten, twenty, fifty times better than her peers just to hammer down the point that she deserved her spot. During her time at Harvard, she was only one in nine women in a class of about five hundred men. Professors assumed that the ladies were there merely to secure themselves a good husband. Wow. (In fact, the Dean of Harvard Law reportedly invited all of the female law students to dinner at his family home and asked them: "Why are you at Harvard Law School, taking the place of a man?" UGH, THE AUDACITY.) Even RBG herself was forced to say, "I'm here so that my husband and I will have something to talk about," during their Freshman welcome dinner, because she feared being labelled as arrogant or too confident. 

Columbia turned out to be a much more liberal and accepting space. However, she was still met with varying degrees of sexism after graduation. She was declined clerkships based solely on her gender (and the fact that she was also a married family woman at the time). This only fueled her desire to fight for a cause: women's rights.

One very, very compelling part of her career for me was the manner by which she led the Women's Rights Project at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Her strategy? Because she knew judges would not "listen" to or understand the concerns of a woman plaintiff, she selected cases where it was a man who suffered gender discrimination under the law. For instance, in Weinberger v. Wiesenfield, a widower, Paul Wiesenfield, lost his wife during childbirth and was forced to raise his son on his own. When seeking for a survivor's benefits, he was deemed ineligible by the Social Security since such benefits under the law were made available only to widows, not widowers. This illustrated that gender discrimination in all instances did not only harm men, but also women. It was harmful for everyone in society, as it placed individuals at a disadvantage simply because of a factor beyond their control. Such a brilliant strategy. It's unfortunate that it had to take male plaintiffs to make justices listen and strike down gender-biased laws one at a time, but it worked. As the director of the Women's Rights Project, she argued six gender discrimination cases before the Supreme Court between 1973 and 1976, winning five.

She eventually went on to become the second female Supreme Court Justice in 1993. And until now, even at 87, she shows no signs of slowing down. Colon cancer, pancreatic cancer, broken ribs, lung nodules - none of these seem to stop her from showing up to work each day and bringing her much needed brilliance in court. She knows that despite the strides made in the last few decades, the job is never over (especially now that more conservatives are being appointed back in Court, thanks to Trump. Hello, dark ages.) The movement towards equality and fairness is not finished. The key is to always be reminded that tomorrow is another day to fight, to do good, and to be kind. “Anyway, hope springs eternal. If I lose today, there’s hope that tomorrow will be better.”

How good was this book? I finished it in a day. Less than twenty-four hours, even. I started before dinner and by 4:00 pm the next day, I was binge-watching Michelle Obama videos on YouTube. 

I've always known that Michelle was a fantastic individual, but I never really knew how inspiring she was outside of being the First Lady. She carried herself well, she represented the White House with class, and she looked like a very doting, affectionate wife and mother. But I did not realize how cool she was outside her relationship with Barack. 

That she grew up in the south side of Chicago meant that she experienced what living in a struggling community and being surrounded by people (and family) whose big dreams took a back seat because of institutional barriers. Poverty and race played a crucial factor in shaping Michelle's views. She was fortunate to have had parents who pushed her (and her equally intelligent and talented older brother, Craig) to excel in school so that they can reach greater heights. This led her to Princeton, and eventually, Harvard Law. 

Michelle writes with refreshing honesty and sincerity. She paints a colorful, compelling picture of her youth, but does not sugarcoat the realities of needing to overcome many obstacles before actually getting a decent education. The same goes for her candid depiction of her relationship and marriage with Barack, who has always been a visionary and an idealist - almost always to a fault. It really takes a strong, courageous woman to be able to admit the challenges that come with being married to a senator and eventually, the President. But through it all, not once did she ever succumb to being merely just "Barack's wife." She didn't quite outgrow her "southside mentality" of knowing what she's worth and always striving hard to do some good on her own.

Particularly, her relationship with Barack never made her put her own ambitions aside. If anything, it only fueled her to find her own causes. When they met, she was an associate at a big law firm, who lacked the passion for her job but felt she was good at it anyway and decided to just stick with it. After all, she had always been a "abide by the rules and follow the plan" kind of girl. But the detours in her life made her realize that sometimes it's okay to let certain goals go, if only to allow ourselves to find a greater purpose. After her resignation, she found herself in different positions that enabled her to actually help others and make a difference, especially for people like her. 

She worked in the Chicago city government as an assistant to the mayor and later on became the city assistant commissioner of Planning and Development. Then she became the executive director for the non-profit organization, Public Allies, which encouraged young people to see value in doing non-profit and public sector work. She later on served as the Associate Dean of Student Services at the University of Chicago, where she developed the University's Community Service Center, before becoming the Vice President for Community and External Affairs of the University of Chicago Hospitals. All this, Michelle accomplished by having one purpose in mind: to bring services to those who need it the most.

She also openly admitted suffering a miscarriage, and having difficulty with conceiving during the early part of her marriage. These are stories that need to be heard by women, especially those who are crippled by society's expectations. This part of the book was very moving for me personally, and I loved that she was candid about her own fears. 

This is what really inspired me the most about her: an unapologetic belief in her own value. And this is precisely what she wants to impart to her readers, particularly to young, ambitious women. Yes, there exists systemic barriers that are working against us; but when we are able to overcome them, we should work our hardest to help others overcome them too. She used her influence as a first lady to educate; to produce meaningful work for sectors that are largely ignored and underserved by the structures of government. She led by example. And she delivered.

Marty always acknowledged Ruth's brilliance. One of the things Ruth initially liked about him was that he saw her as an equal. When they first met, they had other partners, so they just started out as friends - which was crucial for Ruth, because she found out that Marty had always respected her brains, and not just trying to get in her pants. Throughout their marriage (and RBG's flourishing career), he never felt threatened by her and saw value in her capabilities. He enjoyed being the doting husband and family man; likewise, RBG willingly steps aside when Marty's career takes interesting turns. "He always made me feel like I was better than I thought I was. He was so confident in his own ability that he never regarded me as any kind of threat," RBG said of her late husband. And, most importantly, he cooked for her and always made her laugh. Ah, the dream.

Same goes for Barack, who slowly but surely swept Michelle off her feet, even though she was initially dismissive and reluctant (since he was a law student intern at the firm where she was an associate). He knew it had to take much more than just plain old charm to impress her. He acknowledged that she was an intelligent, hyper-critical woman with a background different from his own. He was open and curious and affectionate. He listened. And he never dismissed her aspirations; he kept encouraging her and never expected her to just remain in his shadow. 

(Side-note that the part in the book about how she and Barack started dating was such a kilig-fest!!!! YA novels have nothing on that entire chapter!!! It was so incredibly adorable! The movie "Southside With You," a fictionalized adaptation of their first date was one of my favorite flicks in 2018 because of how compelling their chemistry was. But MAN, the nonfiction version of their first few dates?! Even more kilig! 

Here's an excerpt I bookmarked about the night they snuck out of a performance of Les Misérables, and tried to avoid the suspicious looks of the other partners working in their firm. Tell me this scene isn't a short film script waiting to happen!)

*

Okay, so this book review turned out to be quite a lot. But the exponential increase of my admiration for these two women cannot simply be explained in a few paragraphs. True, these women are not like the rest of us: they're Ivy League-educated, in great positions of power and influence, and live their life under the gaze of public scrutiny. But in many other ways, they understand us intrinsically. They know what it's like to be discriminated against, to be treated unfairly, to be vulnerable, to feel deprived, to have to work twice as hard, to be defeated. 

And both of them came out of it with an important lesson: we have to keep pushing. Have a radical aim, but proceed with caution. Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.

*

When I was a teenager, one of the biggest perks of finally sleeping in my own room was getting to stay up late. Back then, getting lost in the peculiar algorithms of YouTube was not a thing yet. Instead, what excited me the most was getting to catch all these "adult" shows on cable which, at the time, were beginning to be understandable to me. Adult Swim, Sex and the City, and yes, the three late night shows: Late Show with David Letterman, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, and Late Night with Conan O'Brien.

Late night shows were a particularly endearing breed for me. It had celebrity interviews, sure, but the real draw was the personality behind the table. I've always taken these shows at face value and liked them for the different flavors each one gave. Dave, for his sardonic, cynical humor especially in his Top Ten. Jay, for his rapid-fire monologue and Headlines. And Conan. Oh Conan. I learned the words "shenanigans," "moral outrage," and "noches de pasion" because of Late Night. I had the softest spot for him even when he was the one that most confounded me. He was too quick, too sharp for fifteen-year-old me, but it was always a delight trying to catch up with him and be in on the ride.

When the whole Tonight Show controversy erupted in 2010, I followed it obsessively online. At the time, none of my other friends watched these shows, so it felt like this devastating blow that I couldn't share with anyone. I liked Jay, sure, but the whole shake up was not a good look on him at all. It only solidified what I've always felt through the years: Team Conan all the way. He wasn't given enough leeway with his version of the Tonight Show. And it was so unfair.

After that, the late night scene was no longer the same. Since then, new players have come into the fray. Fallon, Meyers, Corden, Colbert, Kimmel, Noah - these guys are now holding the fort. But the format has changed in so many ways - and necessarily so, given the changes in technology and the way audiences consume media. They now have more sketches and gimmicks, and rely on the virality of each individual segment rather than the cohesiveness of one whole show. Which isn't entirely bad, per se. I do like their content too. It's just different.

Which, I guess, is why I felt the need to read this book when I got an epub copy. I wanted to know what really went behind the scenes, what changed the network's mind, and at what point NBC realized that the late night landscape was going to be significantly shaken again. (Incidentally, I was also really curious to know how the contracts were drafted in the negotiations.)

It's quite ironic that all this went down precisely because they were trying to avoid the exact same thing that happened between David Letterman and Jay Leno back in the 1990s, following Johnny Carson's retirement from The Tonight Show. In the early 2000s, NBC wanted to have a "Prince of Wales" succession clause to secure the person who will "inherit" the throne of The Tonight Show and avoid any drama. The idea was brilliant and the identity of who the successor will be was clear: Conan. What did them all in was the timing.

I'll save you the trouble of reading the book and just refer you to the Wikipedia page linked above if you want to know the timeline of how it all went. But more than just the narration of events, what stood out more in the The War for Late Night was the very personal, and authentic depiction of the actual people involved in the fray. The network executives, the agents, the producers, even the competition at the time. (There's a great chapter on Letterman, but also a recognition of the other key players like Kimmel, Fallon, Colbert, and Stewart.) Most importantly, Conan and Jay.

I've always been Team Conan. He's loved by all, from young intellectuals to fellow comedians and artists. I love the guy, I admire the guy, I binge-consume any content of his that I can get my hands on (Podcast? check; Late Night classics? check; interviews on YouTube? check; Conan without Borders? check.) And the book is actually very sympathetic towards him, showing that in many ways, he really was the victim here. Many other factors were at play: the timing, the ratings, the lead-in, the bind that NBC head Gaspin was in considering the network's descent from the ranks. But it still all boils down to the fact that NBC didn't want him enough. They didn't want him to go elsewhere, but they were willing to break a promise made to him just to make more money. He didn't deserve to have The Tonight Show taken away from him like that.

But, the book also did a good job of showing Jay's side. He's a no nonsense kind of comedian. He wasn't innovative, he wasn't a genius. He didn't go to Harvard like Conan. But - and this is crucial - people loved him. He didn't appeal to the intellectuals, sure, but he is certainly well-liked by even the simplest of folks in Nebraska. He had mass appeal. And to top that off, he worked hard. Really hard. He didn't play into the celebrity schtick, he didn't mind not winning awards. He ran The Tonight Show like a ship, and it always landed at the same place: the top. He consistently beat Letterman in the ratings, something Conan couldn't do. You can't fault the network for wanting to give the keys back to him, especially after the variety show they offered him did not work.

Conan got a shitty lead-in during his stint at The Tonight Show because the network botched it with The Jay Leno show at 10:00 pm. But the fault here is to be placed squarely on the lawyers. Jay had the leverage between the two of them because his lawyers were able to secure for him a "pay-and-play" contract, as opposed to the usual "pay-or-play" (which was what Conan had). This contract guaranteed NBC would both air his program and pay him for up to two years, whether the program continued or not. This is completely different from Conan's The Tonight Show contract, which provided that NBC can either play his program for two years or pull the plug on the show and just pay him off, by network prerogative. Comparing both, NBC stood to lose more if they broke the contract with Jay than with Conan. The pay-and-play was unusual in the TV setting at the time, and there was no way Conan's lawyers could have anticipated that that was possible, because it wasn't an industry standard. But Jay's lawyers did. So his ass was saved by the network instead.

The book was published in 2010. Reading it now, in 2020, it's easy to say that Conan still eventually got the better end of the deal in the long run. Sure he never got to fully enjoy his tenure as the host of The Tonight Show. But he was able to diversify his content: he got to set up his own production company, has a podcast, shoots for a Netflix docuseries, has mockumentary shorts involving his staff, and still has a late night talk show, albeit on a cable channel now. He has the freedom to do whatever he wants, and that has only resulted in more hilarious, genre-bending, and entertaining content since then. In particular, his podcast and travel series show a different side of him, one that allows him to flesh out his conversations with his interviewee because he has more time to breathe and just be. The interviews he does now no longer focus on just, say, promoting a movie, or rehashing an oft-repeated anecdote. He has the opportunity to really get to know them, find out their stories, and all while sharing a little part of himself. Even in other forms of media, he's still somehow changing the game.

But at the same time, I can't help but wonder - what could have been? If he had remained at The Tonight Show, I think he would have eventually veered towards the same content (aimed at virality), while still maintaining his identity. Breaking the norms, making people uncomfortable, finding the silver lining even at the perverse. He may not be doing a Lipsync Battle or Carpool Karaoke - but I think audiences would have loved an updated Triumph the Insult Comic Dog just the same. He could have been breaking even more barriers, given the timeslot's reach.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be. And as with most things, we have no other choice but to look at it as a glass-half-full kind of situation. The late night format as we knew it had to end somehow. It was just unfortunate that it had to claim one of the greats as its victim.

One of my favorite post-Tonight Show Conan content though, is his speech for the 2010 graduating class of Dartmouth. It has all the ingredients of everything Conan: hilarious, ridiculous, well-researched, self-deprecating, and full of wit. But what stood out about this speech - and what makes me re-watch it from time to time - is his honesty. And the ability to turn his heartbreak into a catalyst for something more meaningful.

It's definitely a beautiful way of looking at failure. The road to success will always be paved with disappointments. That's a fact of life that we all have to come to terms with. But real success isn't solely measured by your ability to reach the top. It's also about the kind of person you've become while you were at it. Did you take advantage of someone else? Did you steal? Did you cause pain? I guess, my biggest take away from this book is that when things like this happen, there are no clear winners. On paper, there might be. But victory lies with whoever walked away with grace, humility, and compassion. So, with every triumph, we must never forget to ask: "At what cost?"

Forever echoing my favorite sign off from Conan:

(Photo credit: D Magazine)