Zero (the Hero) Times Three
I booked a recurring role in LA entertainment, but it's to be yelled at by kindergarteners once a year. Plus recs for Adam Mastroianni on science funding, John Thibodeaux's cards, and Dr Bryant Lin.
The dream of any entertainer living in LA is to be cast in a role you can count on for the rest of your career. I finally booked one!
No, I’m not the star of a sitcom.
No, I’m not a Marvel villain.
Yes, I am Zero the Hero, an alien/physical embodiment of the base-ten number system who visits my friend Jocelyn’s kindergarten class each year on the 100th day of school. This is my third year recurring in the role, which Jocelyn tells me means that I have officially booked it for good.
It’s a big moment in my career and I think it’s important to celebrate that.
Here I am in my green room, which is just a random bathroom on the second floor of the school, where I hide while they assemble all the kindergarteners on the playground.
A fun thing about having played Zero for multiple years is that I now see the differences in the personality of the kindergartners as a whole. You might think kindergarten classes are always one way, but it turns out there’s big variation in the energy of the room year to year.
The first year I appeared as Zero the Hero, those kids lost their minds at the idea that I was going to give them each a prize (a photocopied hundred dollar bill with a zero instead of Ben Franklin’s head). The teachers could barely get them to control themselves and line up to receive it.
The next year, the kids were more passionate about learning as much as they could about the planet Zero comes from. “And what do the showers look like on Planet Zero?” “What foods do you eat?” “What shape is your spaceship?”
The answers, of course, are that the showers are circular but with a column in the middle making it a zero, I only eat zero shaped foods like bagels/donuts/Cheerios, and my space ship is a large silver donut.
The children accepted each answer with great interest, nodding and shouting “I knew it!” to each other.
This year, after I ran around on a balcony above the playground and got all their attention, I asked the kids to raise their hands if they had a question for me about my life, my work as Zero, or my home planet of Zero. Out of like 50 kids, only two raised their hands. I called on one and she just wanted to correct my grammar. To be fair, she was correct. But it was a comment, not a question. The only question was “where did you park your spaceship?”
These children are born-and-bred Angelenos. I feel like the kindergartener whose only question for an extraterrestrial visitor is “where did you park?” is absolutely destined to be the mayor of LA by the time they graduate high school.
Anyway, I answered with some mumbling about a zero-shaped garage. The kids smelled blood in the water and pounced on where a zero-shaped garage could possibly be located within walking distance of the school. Panicking, I tried to shift the conversation by shouting “Who wants me to ask THEM a question?”
Every hand shot up.
This year’s kids did not like to ask questions, but they loved to respond to them.
“What’s my favorite number less than one?” ZERO!
“What’s my favorite zero shaped food?” DONUT!
“What’s my favorite shape?” CIRCLE!
Correct, correct, and close enough!
I handed them each a photocopied c-note and then sprinted out of the school, away from the Hollywood magic and back to my disappointingly not-circular Toyota Camry parked in a rectangular lot.
Until next year…
My projects and upcoming events:
PODCAST: How to Be a Better Human (TED/PRX) - Nate DiMeo, host of The Memory Palace, was our guest this week to talk about telling true stories about regular people, learning from history, and how he handles the overwhelm of the present by finding wonder in the past. Listen here (or wherever you get podcasts).
This week’s list
GREAT:
There are so many reasons why funding research benefits everyone in our society: New medical discoveries, technological advances, groundbreaking discoveries that change our understanding of the universe. And yet, it’s become increasingly difficult to make the case for science and research to the general public. Adam Mastroianni is very funny and consistently manages to convey big, important ideas in a way that hundreds of thousands of people not only understand, but actively want to read. Here’s his latest on the current situation: Funding science is actually a badass thing to do
FUNNY:
John Thibodeaux is so funny and so natural on camera. I love his interactions with Stephen Colbert in this bit. But someone should give John his own show! He’d be great. First Drafts: Black History Month 2025
INTERESTING:
This is a tear jerker but also a guide to how to face terrible news without losing your sense of self, purpose, or humor. I wish that all doctors and medical professionals could take a class like this. It’s also interesting to see how, when you’re a young college student, the idea that everyone is going to face suffering and loss feels incomprehensible. But only a few years later, it becomes clear that that’s not something you can avoid in life, it’s something we all will have to navigate and manage. When This Professor Got Cancer, He Didn’t Quit. He Taught a Class About It. (h/t Andrea Amiel)
BONUS FOR PAYING SUBSCRIBERS:
Paying subscribers make Bright Spots possible! This newsletter will always be available for anyone to read for free, but paying subscribers let me make it happen! They also get access to special features as well the entire archive of past posts. Paying subscribers also get my undying gratitude (which never dies). It’s never too late to join them!
That's it for this week. Thanks for reading! Please share Bright Spots with anyone you think might enjoy it.
Now you ask ME a question,
Chris Duffy
This has been Bright Spots, a newsletter.
…wait, who are you?
I'm Chris Duffy, a comedian, TV writer, podcast host, and both a former fifth grade teacher and a former fifth grade student. I’m currently writing a nonfiction book about humor for Doubleday.
This was great. And speaking as a former teacher and a child of teachers I think you hit the sweet spot for days a year spent in a kindergarten classroom …1. Any more and insanity looms.
This is absolutely delightful, and totally giving me ideas for my own kids-author presentations that I do at schools sometimes.