Falling Down: Comeuppance of a White, Male Stern Fan

I have a series of confessions to make.

For starters, I am a white male.

I’m angry. I’m angry because women and minorities are taking over. I may even be boiling with a white-hot intensity.

I’m resentful over losing my power to cope with societal changes.

I’m suffering, too, from emotional disillusionment, but that may just be another manifestation of losing my power.

I’m also a clod and, quite possibly, a boor.

Not a pretty picture: An angry, resentful, suffering, disillusioned boorish clod of a white male.

These confessions are difficult to acknowledge publicly, because until very recently, I thought I was a happy, well-adjusted guy.

Oh, I’ve known for some time that I was a white male, but I never felt especially proud or ashamed of that. It’s not like I studied for years and sacrificed everything to become one, or bought my way in.

I didn’t realize I was angry, either, because if not doubled up in laughter, I’m usually sporting at least a wry grin. I chuckle regularly.

And I swear I didn’t know I was resentful over losing power. Honest to God, I never though I had any. For years, I thought I was the guy always getting pushed around, and now I find out I had power.

Nor did I know I was suffering. I had thought that while assessing the good and bad that happened to me over the years, I had adopted a “you win some, you lose some” philosophy.

However, I’ve been forced to confront my true psyche, because I listen to Howard Stern’s morning radio show. Not only do I listen for 15 or 20 minutes on my way to work, but I occasionally say to myself, “This guy is hilarious.”

I’ve been assuming I liked the show because Stern has a terrific voice, a great sense of radio performing and the kind of sharp-edged humor I’ve loved in comedians since I was old enough to know names like Berle, Youngman and Allen.

Oh, sure, Stern’s material turns blue from time to time and he makes fun of groups in ways that put me off, but when that happens, I switch the station for a couple minutes. When I come back, he’s either commenting on the news or interviewing a comedian or a rock star, and pretty soon I’m laughing again.

I never think of Stern as anything other than an entertainer. I’ve repeated many a Stern joke in the last couple years but never anything that he passed off as insight or social relevance.

Now, however, I find I’m self-deluded. I’m deeply troubled. Or, if not deeply troubled, at least not all that I can be.

Because Stern’s show is widely popular and his new book a bestseller, it’s fashionable to psychoanalyze his popularity and, by extension, his audience.

My own favorite newspaper interviewed several psychologists under the headline “Putting Howard Stern’s Audience on the Couch.” One psychologist linked Stern fans to those who liked the movie “Falling Down,” in which an angry white male played by Michael Douglas gets even.

“Both appeal to people who feel threatened right now,” the psychologist said. “Like the character in that movie, Stern’s listeners are feeling that women are taking over, that minorities are taking over. If they’re suffering in this recession, white males enjoy hearing other groups getting knocked down when they’re feeling vulnerable. Howard Stern says what they feel but feel they can’t say.”

Odd. I must not have been as angry a few months ago, because I never had any interest in seeing “Falling Down.” If I get any enjoyment in seeing women or minorities “getting knocked down,” I sleep secure in the knowledge that such feelings are reserved for case-by-case situations and that they produce no more joy than watching certain white males get knocked down.

Another psychologist said: “He (Stern) says you can be a white man and can break out, break free. A number of men are suffering more than they used to, and it’s not just economic hardships they’re experiencing, but emotional ones. They bought into the models that dictated how they should behave in society, and now they’re finding them emotionally bankrupt. . . . Howard Stern tells them, ‘You were sold a bill of goods--you were taught to be a worker, a provider, and look where it got you.’ ”

I’ve been listening to Stern for a couple years now, and I had no idea that’s what he was telling me.

Howard must be tapping subliminally into my visceral anger or disillusionment. If that’s true, though, I’m a little confused as to why I switch over from Howard occasionally to listen to music. I guess the anger and disillusionment that Howard taps into comes and goes, even while driving to work.

I thought I liked Stern because he was funny and for the same reasons I like dozens of other comedians: command of the language, delivery, stage presence. It’s sobering to realize I like him because I can’t cope.

Is it too late to blame my parents?

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.