A Love Letter To Loveline
Dear Adam and Dr. Drew,
Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I am sure that, in the time since you first began your collaboration on KROQ, you have heard from many people just how much you have changed their lives for the better, how much they have enjoyed spending 5 nights a week, 10-12 PM, with you guys. I’m sure there were people who put it more eloquently than I ever could. But even though this may not be original or novel, I just want to tell you how important you were to me.
Thank you for letting me know it was okay to be confused. I remember listening to you under my blankets, on the lowest possible volume I could still hear, when I was 12 years old, terrified my parents would walk in right when one of you said “anal sex.” I had so many questions about everything, and even though, looking back, I could have asked my parents–at the time no thought instilled greater fear in me. I could listen to you guys, I could let others ask the questions for me, I could keep the anonymity that every middle school student so desperately wants when it comes to sex.
Thank you for being so funny. Adam, you may be the most naturally funny human being alive (your podcast and book consistently keep me sane), but with Dr. Drew acting as the perfect straight man, you truly had something special. The way Drew could deadpan his way through one of your insane rants, dropping the pretense of being this important, intelligent doctor while barely containing his laughter was effortlessly funny in a way that comedy writers can so rarely achieve. You guys were just funny together, it was as simple as that.
Thank you for, when the most unbelievably white trash, meth-riddled woman would call with some absurd story about domestic disputes with her live-in boyfriend who was the father of her second, fourth, and possibly sixth child would call, asking her calmly and rationally if she was Jewish. Drew’s fake shock at her consistently offended “No! What?! No, I’m not Jewish!” was just too good for words.
“Has a trailer ever burned down because a Menorah tipped over?” -Adam Carolla
Thank you for inviting David Allen Grier time and time again. Thank you for showing those of us who listened that he may be one of the most underrated comedians of our generation. Everything from turning medical terms into black children’s names to his perfectly timed outbursts of “Let’s save some babies!” when Adam would be in minute 23 of a rant about the LA Department of Motor Vehicles was the perfect addition to the Loveline dynamic. DAG, you were the only guest I ever enjoyed on that show.
Thank you for not taking your guests too seriously. Thank you for not letting them take up the whole show with their boring promotion of whatever new project they were hocking. Thank you for not caring when The Darkness walked out because they were under the impression the calls were going to be about them. Thank you for asking Gwen Stefani, when she said her ex-boyfriend was Indian, asking her if he was “woo-woo-woo Indian or 7/11 Indian.” Thank you for not caring when she got offended. Thank you for not realizing her ex was actually the guy sitting next to her.
Thank you for letting people talk. Thank you for letting the zoosexual who called in have a good thirty minutes to honestly explain his situation, and not allowing your producer and phone screener to come in and verbally abuse him. Thank you for getting what he had to say out there, even if we don’t like to hear it. Thank you for making Loveline a place where people could have an honest discussion about things, where everyone gets a voice.
Thank you for the lightning round.
Thank you for giving people everywhere useful advice, for dispelling dangerous myths, for supporting sexual knowledge and safety. Thank you for encouraging condoms and birth control, fighting against the lies about the morning after pill, and extolling the virtues of Planned Parenthood.
Thank you, Adam, for, when the “psychic” was on your show, not letting her get away in the slightest with her hackneyed, fake, pandering act. Thank you for calling her out on her bullshit, for embarrassing her, for showing her to be the fraud that she is. Thank you for not letting her prey on mourning family members on Loveline.
“Look, you don’t bat a thousand, that’s fine…listen, even Mark McGwire strikes out once in a while.” -Adam Carolla to the “psychic”
Thank you for the “Holocaust” call.
Thank you for not taking shit from the parents of terrified kids who got discovered calling your show, the parents who ripped the phones out of their kids’ hands. Thank you for putting them in their place, for explaining that their children were confused and needed help and called a place that they felt safe and not judged. Thank you for standing up for what was right.
Most of all, thank you for being there. Thank you for being there when I had a hard day, when I was nervous about a new boyfriend, when I wanted to cry because I felt no one understood my problems. Thank you for reminding all of us, listening under the covers after our curfews, that we are all confused, that we all need help. Thank you for being open, for making us feel safe, for making us laugh.
Thank you for everything.
A | A | A
It started with a right swipe, a little green heart. Tinder of course.
Though I acknowledge and appreciate the differences in human experiences, and while your heartbreak is (and always will be) uniquely and completely your own, I must urge you to consider that I have been where you are.
With his hat cocked back, body tilted away from his cane, and right forefinger pointing directly at his audience, Joseph Ducreux commands the attention of those viewing his self-portrait.
I was born in 1990; he was born in 1973. I’m 23; he just turned 40.