The best humor comes from pain. I was raised in the suburbs by model parents who loved me very much which is bad for a comic-- and I tried very hard to get my parents to become alcoholics.
I used to tell my father, "Slam some doors, threaten mom with a two by four, lose your job. Do something to enhance my joke writing."
If they really cared about my dream they would have been complete assholes.
My dad was never belligerent. I never had to guess what mood he was in that day. He never had an affair. It was not good for my career.
I used to wish that my parents would show up late to one of my elementary school Christmas concerts reeking of vodka. My mother in a leopard print skirt with a breast showing from her unkempt blouse while yelling at my father, "You don't love me. You never loved me!" And my father in kind, "Don't do this Rhoda-- I love you more than a tote of fish."
But no. They saved their money, there was always food on the table, clothes on my back and presents under the tree.
I bombed at comedy clubs.
And now I find out there is no support group for a happy childhood.