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Only by chance did her definitive role become playing a comedian. Comedy was a way to pay the bills while she auditioned for dramatic parts. "Somebody said, 'You can make six dollars standing up in a club,'" she explains, "and I said, 'Here I go!' It was better than typing all day." In the early 1960s, comedy was a male-dominated game where the only women comics she could look to were Totie Fields and Phyllis Diller. But after several years of struggle, she landed a spot on "The Tonight Show" where host Johnny Carson gave her his blessing, saying she was destined to be a star. A half-century later, Rivers' drive is undiminished. She never settles down. The previous weekend she played three nights at Las Vegas' Venetian Resort. She had then planned to go on to California. But she raced back East on a sad mission after getting a call. Barbara Waxler, her ailing older sister in Ardmore, Pa., had taken a turn for the worse. Flying into Philadelphia, Rivers reached her in her final hours. "Aunt Joan is the head of the family now," says Rivers. "Look out! We're having pink flowers at the funeral!" Rivers is no stranger to loss, including the suicide of her husband-producer-manager, Edgar Rosenberg, in 1987. Nor has her career, despite its towering heights, been immune to cruel setbacks, including her late-night talk show that launched the Fox network in 1986 but lasted less than a year. "You never relax and say, 'Well, here I am!'" declares Rivers. "You always think, 'Is this gonna be OK?' I have never, in 46 years, taken anything for granted."
Except maybe the jokes she creates, tests and continuously fine-tunes. The jokes never stop. They can't. "The trouble with me is, I make jokes too often," she says. "I'm making jokes at my sister's shivah. I was making jokes yesterday at the funeral home. That's how I get through life. Life is SO difficult -- everybody's been through something! But you laugh at it, it becomes smaller." Even the terror of aging -- Rivers has always mocked it, not only with her self-directed jokes but also with her never-secret rounds of plastic surgery. "But I have never wanted to be a day less than I am," she insists. "People say, 'I wish I were 30 again.' Nahhh! I'm very happy HERE. It's great. It gets better and better. And then, of course, we die," she quips, chuckles and looks unconcerned. How long does she plan to keep working? "Forever," says Rivers. This time, she's not joking. ___ Online:
[Associated
Press;
Frazier Moore is a national television columnist for The Associated Press. He can be reached at
fmoore@ap.org and at
http://twitter.com/tvfrazier
Copyright 2013 The Associated
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