The Scary Thing is He Looks Like My Grandmother Did in the 20s.

Don’t try and act like you were with Tracy Morgan from the get-go. Sure, the dude had some funny Saturday Night Live skits, like Brian Fellow (“not an accredited zoologist… He is simply an enthusiastic young man with a sixth-grade education and an abiding love for all God’s creatures”), but Morgan wasn’t exactly Will Ferrell. You may have laughed at his wacko commercials for ESPN video games a few years back—especially that one where a cross-eyed Morgan confronted Ben Wallace in a dark stairwell and told him “the way I dunk on you is gonna look unorthodoxed”—but you surely didn’t watch The Tracy Morgan Show . . .

Then this year happened. . . . all of a sudden, everyone was talking about how funny Tracy Morgan is. It began with Morgan’s turn on 30 Rock, Tina Fey’s dry sitcom à clef about SNL, in which Morgan plays a paranoid comedian named Tracy…Jordan, who says things like “I love this corn bread so much I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant.”

I'll confess. When he was on SNL, I didn't laugh once at his work. In fact, after a couple of his skits, I was noticeably sadder for watching. His stand-up was no better. Instead of doubling over in laughter, the two or three times I saw him perform, I felt uneasy, like I was watching a minstrel show, and that black-white relations were being set back with each joke that left his mouth. It's safe to say then, I have never tried to play the hipster who loved Tracy Morgan before loving Tracy was cool. Just the opposite, in fact. I hated him.

At times, I still do. But, today, I'm finding the funny.

Tracy: Let the games begin, baby!
Jimmy Kimmel: You were, um, . . . Tracy, you were. . .
Tracy: People say, "You spicy, Tracy." I'm spicy. I'm spicy.
Jimmy: You are spicy.
Tracy: I'm a freak.
Jimmy: And you are a freak.
Tracy Do you know yesterday I bought one of them leather masks the zipper right here and a zipper on the back. And I got one of them pink balls, gag balls. Somebody tonight is going to throw 2,000 grapes at my butt cheeks.

I think it's because I see him now as a fellow freaky traveler.

And, yes, I am soooo doing that grape thing -- except I'm going to have the grapes frozen first. All I need is a woman with a fruit fetish and decent throwing arm.

Holl'ar if you're interested.