I really, really like Chevy Chase.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Chevy Chase is a borderline(?) homophobe, borderline(???) sexist, arrogant, self-important man whose face belongs in the urbandictionary under the term “insufferable prick.”
Yet, somehow, I can’t help but root for him.
He’s like that one problematic relative whom you just keep waiting and hoping for something in their brain to click and for all the pieces to finally fall into place and for them to finally stop being such a dick, because when they’re not being a dick, you really, really like them. He seems lonely and kind of sad, like he’s an unwitting prisoner of his own asshole behavior. I just want him to come around.
This is really, incredibly, profoundly dumb, but it really warmed my heart to see Dan Aykroyd with his hand on Chevy’s shoulder up there. Maybe I’m just a naive idealist, but I feel like maybe, just maybe, if Chevy could be embraced despite his faults, and learn to reciprocate that affection genuinely… Maybe Dan hates him. Maybe he’s passive-aggressively squeezing the shit out of Chevy’s shoulder here. I don’t know. I’d like to think Dan’s trying to love him despite his horribleness.
It’s Sunday morning and I’m talking about Chevy Chase as though he were my asshole grandfather that I love and know with some amount of intimacy. (And, by the way, I did have an asshole grandfather.) All inspired by a photo tweeted by Steve Martin. Ugh. I am the worst.
But, for real. Chevy. Rooting for you.