In times of desperation, a lot of people turn to the Bible. Others, it’s -- I don’t know -- a pack of reds and a glass of bourbon. For me, it’s simple: "Seinfeld." Maybe it’s because I’m not all that religious or my palate isn’t cultured enough for whiskey (I mean, there’s lemonade in the fridge...), but either way, no matter what stresses the world weighs down upon my 20-year-old shoulders, there’s always time for 20 or so minutes with “the crew.” I’m proud to say that Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David have molded me into fine young man I am today (although I’m not so sure proud is the operative word, nor that I’m all too fine).
Failed a midterm? Girlfriend sleeping around? Another season with Mark Sanchez at the helms? Whatever the downtrodden case, when I need a pick me up I turn to ‘Feld, specifically my favorite character, a one Cosmo Kramer. What an interesting organism he is. From the second he sashays through Jerry’s door, I find myself in stitches, wondering how the f*ck does he do it? Well, maybe because he’s perpetually stoned. At least that’s my theory.
One of my favorite aspects of Seinfeld is not just the show’s ability to make me laugh (time after time after time), but moreover the show’s ability to make me laugh within the confines of cable television. There’s a reason why I watch the shows like "Californication," "Entourage," and "Dexter" these days, and pass on "The Big Bang Theory" (and every other reality show that flickers on my guide before landing on one of the movie channels, or ESPN). Simply put, if you’re not cursing or showing a nipple from time to time, truth be told, I have trouble watching you. This ideology is driven from the same school of thought explaining why we hang out with friends and girlfriends, instead of our parents. You know what I mean. Nevertheless, "Seinfeld" has stood the test of time (and humor) for decades: curseless, boobless and drugless.
Did curses, boobs and drugs cease to exist in the land of "Seinfeld" (Vincent Gambini voice)? No, of course not. It just wasn’t caught by the “NBC cameras," so to speak. But what if HBO had picked up "Seinfeld" instead? Suddenly, we’d see a different side to our favorite sitcom. Suddenly, we'd see the true essence of Elaine’s implied whoredom, but now from a different up-close angle, the bedroom itself. Suddenly, we'd see Newman-Jerry duels in their most organic form -- with Jerry throwing around “fat f*ck” with triple the frequency of Newman’s postal-efficiency rate. Suddenly we'd see Kramer, yes, raw, uncut Kramer. Suddenly, we'd see more nothing. And what screams “nothing to do” louder than everyone’s favorite time waster, marijuana. I mean c’mon people, if "Seinfeld" is a “show about nothing,” Kramer is the Plato of this philosophy. His life is predicated on nothingness. Nothingness, and questionable behavior. Look no further than pot.
5 Reasons I Know Kramer Smokes Pot
1.) He’s always raiding Jerry’s fridge
2.) He has no job
3.) He makes little to no sense, ever
4.) Described as a hipster doofus. Very provocative tidbit from Elaine. Notice Kramer, fresh off a doobie.
5.) Look familiar? His best friend is equally as unambitious, seldom leaves his apartment, and obsessed with Drake coffee cakes. The “Robin” to his pot smoking “Batman.”
In this day and age, everybody needs to “see it” to believe it. If something isn’t Instagrammed, it never happened. Well, I realized that and prepared a few examples. Take this clip from the episode “The Stranded” for example. Let me set the table for you. Jerry and Elaine get “stranded” (God, they were clever) in Long Island, after a dinner party. Long story short, Jerry tells his host -- after making him wait for Kramer to arrive, and chauffeur him and Elaine home -- that he should swing by next time he’s around Manhattan. Clearly an empty gesture. Little does Jerry know, his former host takes him up on this offer and makes a surprise appearance at Jerry’s apartment. Jerry, in the midst of taking care of a prior engagement, needed to run out and awkwardly tells the man to “make himself comfortable.” Naturally, it isn’t long before Kramer saunters in from across the hall and gets “really” comfortable with his new friend. Observe.
What we saw follow is surely not alien to any stoner. It’s clear that marijuana was responsible for Kramer’s overly-affable behavior, and after doing a quick J with our Long Island buddy, found himself mired in the abyss that is Jerry’s couch, telling incoherent stories and laughing without inhibition. If "Seinfeld" had been on HBO, I’m sure we would’ve seen something like this instead of an abrupt cutscene, leading up. And what about this scene...?
Our next instance comes from the episode "The Apology". Only a pothead would have the wherewithal, or lack thereof, to install a garbage disposal in one’s own shower. Anyone who’s lived in a dormroom at their respective college, has witnessed their weed smoking peers feel as though they’ve cracked the Holy Grail, once they bring their smoking utensils into the shower. There’s a whole lot of chemistry involved, but essentially, the smoke from the shower drowns out the smoke from the pot thus concealing it to the naked nose (nose-pun intended). Anyways, if "Seinfeld" had been on HBO, it’s pretty safe to assume that a different “wrinkle,” if you will, would’ve been tied into the whole garbage disposal in the shower thing. Living in an NYC apartment, with nosy (again, this nose-themed-pun was intended) neighbors, Kramer could “hot box” his bathroom -- like any self respecting collegiate toker -- AND cook his dinner, all while bathing. Only Kramer. Only pot.
Ultimately, one doesn’t really need to look much past this clip right here.
Roommate stumbling into the kitchen at all hours of the night (with great, great frequency), mooching food, only to maintain and scrape by their rather insignificant slice of existence? Sounds like college. Sounds like a pothead. Sounds like Cosmo f*cking Kramer. This clip might be the piece de resistance to my Kramer-high-pot-thesis (shut up that’s witty). Jerry, after being told he’s too nice, finally decides to put his foot down and get on Kramer’s case (and his pretty blatantly unacceptable lifestyle). Kramer’s response? A belly laugh. God, I love "Seinfeld."