"There are no boring things; there are only bored people."by Kate Rarey [https://www.matchbox.io/kate-rarey/]Murray Horwitz, 71, claims that he doesn’t know everything. But after a 50-yearcareer as a Tony Award-winning playwright, a Peabody Award-winning broadcaster,a lyricist, and the co-host of the "Question of the Day with Murray and Tamika"podcast (to name a few), it seems there is nowhere that Murray’s pursuit ofknowledge hasn’t taken him. In late January, I was lucky enough to virtually sit down with Murray to hearmore than a few of his stories – from his upbringing in the Midwest, to his timespent at Kenyon College, to his time in the circus. At the beginning of theinterview, I admitted I sought a particular angle. "I want to get inside themind of someone who pursues their own interests in life, unabashedly." Laughing,he responded, "Believe it or not, I’ve given this some thought."Murray Horwitz was born in Dayton, Ohio, to a middle-class household with goodtaste. Jazz, theater, dance, and reading were just a few of the many artisticpursuits encouraged by his parents – his childhood was decorated with trips toNew York to see shows and time spent scouring the public library for Fats Wallerrecords. Murray describes, "I found everything interesting. I think when I wasyoung, even when I was little, I just noticed stuff that other people didn’t."He continues, launching into a story:"There was a character in a play I wrote, a 19 year-old kid who says, 'Yeah,most things are boring.' An older musician says to him: 'You’re 19 years old,your father and mother make a good living, you’ve probably been to Europe twice,you’re probably getting laid, you know, at least once a month (and trying moreoften than that), and you’re bored. There are no boring things; there are onlybored people."Murray himself, it seems, is hardly ever bored. At the backbone of his interestsis the spirit of inquiry. From a young age, Murray interested himself in a widearray of subjects – history, current events, and performing arts were all partsof the same whole. "[Comedian and Rat Pack member] Joey Bishop," he confides,"once said that the key to comedy was curiosity. And I think he’s absolutelyright." Without missing a step, Murray’s curiosity serves a great purpose: foras long as he can remember, he's known how to make people laugh."Within the context of knowing I was loved, and never wanting for anything, Ihad a pretty miserable childhood. I was younger than everyone else, I wassmaller than everyone else, I was this pudgy little Jewish kid with glasses – myname was Murray Horwitz in Dayton, Ohio in the 50s. I mean, all I wanted to bewas like, Rick. Doug. Something. People used to make fun of me, but I somehowhad this impetus to make myself get over, socially. So I guess I got funny."Throughout the course of our hour and a half conversation, Murray’s resoundinglaugh would interrupt his story before he could reach the end, or a new thoughtwould appear and he would change gears entirely. I became quite certain, after acertain point, that Murray had more stories to tell than time in the day. Andyet, the widely accomplished entertainer laid claim to a peculiarly-fittingideal: he is a self-proclaimed underachiever. "Why Kenyon College, then?" I wondered, somewhat implying a curious "how?" aswell. "Did you know Kenyon was the answer to all your interests?" I was met witha laugh. "Spoken like a true daughter of Kenyon," he replied, noting my ownaffiliation to the school. "I had a guidance counselor who suggested Kenyon. Mymom and I went and visited, and I fell in love with it." As an Ohio native, thescope of collegiate options fell within a 500-mile radius – a scope whichincluded Kenyon. Placing his bets on the school, Murray was drawn to its Englishand drama departments, eventually going on to declare both as majors.Senior year at Kenyon College, 1970."I realized, by the end of the sophomoreyear, that I was better at English than I was at other subjects. I inherentlyknew what was going on. I understood what poets were doing. I remember, I had towrite a paper, I went into my professor’s office and said 'I don’t know what I’mdoing.' It was British literature, 18th century, and I had to do a paper onJonathan Swift’s 'A Modest Proposal.' My professor was so encouraging, so Iwrote it up and got, like, an A-plus. So I’m like 'sh*t.' I realized Iunderstood what Swift was doing – it was comedy, it was satire, and I was ableto break it down. So I declared my English major.”For Murray, declaring a major was no more than recognizing his many interestscould coalesce into a strength within a single discipline. English, he realizedearly on, was a skill which he could call on reliably, and without hesitation.Drama came next. Murray realized in his junior year at Kenyon that he needed onemore course to fulfill the drama major – a feat which he, of course, immediatelycapitalized on (he notes, with a hint of pride, that the double major is "tothis day my only academic distinction"). However, Murray was well-known in thedrama department long before declaring his major. He describes, in mildreverence, the influence of his professor, Jim Michael:"The sainted Jim Michael, James Elder Michael, who ran the drama department, wasthe man who copped the beer-guzzling football player named Paul Newman and said,'You know, you ought to try the theater.' Jim Michael was, to this day, the bestteacher I’ve ever had, seen or observed."It was Professor Michael who encouraged Murray to pursue his love for acting.And, in the form of a one-man show, Murray did just that – drawing fromShakespeare, famous Yiddish writer Sholom Aleichem, and much more, Murray’ssenior thesis ultimately went on to win him the Paul Newman Award For ExcellenceIn Acting. Most curious, however, was his preparation:"I went to clown school as part of preparation for my one-man show. That’s awhole 'nother story, that’s a great Kenyon story – you should get me to tell itto you over some beers sometime, you’d love this story."Tauntingly, Murray reminds me that preparation for his one-man show includedtime-off from his senior year for a stint in clown school. What’s more: it wasthere that Murray gathered both life skill and knowledge of his art form. "Thegreat thing about the circus was that’s where I learned discipline," Murraynotes, without a trace of irony. Throughout our conversation, Murray remained concretely convinced thatfirst-hand experience in your given field is where the grand majority oflearning occurs in the performing arts. And while it seemed disparate from hispursuits as an English major, it’s clear that writing, acting, and clowning areof apiece to Murray. "I will never be Molière. But every time I sit down and start typing, writing aplay, that’s what’s in the back of my head. That’s what you have to get to,Murray. You’ve gotta get to that. And if you don’t try to get to that, thehighest standard that you know, two things will happen. One, you’ll never knowhow good you can really be, and two, if you try and fail, you may have failedjust a little bit and you may still come up with something that’s reallyterrific. Writing is the through-line, and the Kenyon education had a whole lotto do with that.""And by the way," he reminds me, "when I say the 'Kenyon education' I’m talkingabout my friends and fraternity brothers. I’m talking about tending bar atfaculty parties. You learn as much outside of class as you do inside of class."It seems that sometimes "outside of class" means conversations with professorsover beers, and sometimes it means clown school. C’est la vie. Backstage with Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, 1972.After"underachieving" his way through Kenyon, Murray became a full-time clown forthree years with the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. Afterward, hemoved to New York and worked an odd-ball assortment of jobs, including acting ina soap opera, writing and producing another one-man show, becoming a "clownproducer" (don’t ask), and writing the Tony Award-winning Broadway musical Ain'tMisbehavin'. With each pursuit so different from the last, I had to ask: "Wereyou following a path? How did you know what to pursue next?" At this, Murraylaughed, incredulously. "No!"After a pause, he continued:"My dad used to say, 'You get on your horse and ride off in five differentdirections.' And it turns out that’s how I made a living. About ten years ago, Itook some clickbait online and I came to a website: 'How to guarantee you’llmake a lot of money.' And basically what it said was find out – of the manythings that you may do – find out the one thing you do better than other peopledo and just do that. Concentrate on that one thing and you’ll do wellfinancially. And I told [my wife], 'Sorry, I should have done that, we wouldhave had a lot more bread,' and she said, 'Yeah but you wouldn’t have beenyou.'"Quite beautifully, Murray’s pursuits are unapologetically him. Beyond strivingto be the most authentic version of himself, Murray strives to be great at it,too – in whatever form that may take. I asked him, finally, how the "Question of the Day with Murray and Tamika"podcast fit into the colorful amalgamation that is Murray Horwitz’s life. Thedaily trivia conversation is fun, but is there more to it? In the same way theinterview began, he admitted it was something he had been thinking about. As aperformer, he acknowledged that his job was to deliver, and to entertain.However, Question of the Day stands to achieve what he believes is a necessarybond, a cultural currency, which today's climate largely lacks. Recording a podcast episode in his home studio, 2021."When I’m listening back tothe podcast, that’s when I think about the fact that there’s someone listeningto this with whom I deeply disagree politically. Most of the people listening tothis are of a different religion than I. There are people listening to this whoaren’t native English speakers. I think about that all the time. Withoutpandering, without shrinking from the truth, we try to be as inclusive aspossible. And, there’s another aspect to it. One of the things that we’re seeingin the divisions of this country are the failures of education. And what we’redoing has an educative function. If we can give people a shared body ofknowledge, familiarize them with some stuff with which they may not have beenfamiliar before, make them go, 'Huh, I never thought about that before,' thenthere may be a little progress there."Day-by-day, one question at a time, progress forges on with Murray and Tamika atthe helm. Constructing a shared experience is no easy feat in 2021, but withwilling curiosity, may we each allow our interests to bring us together. Thanks very much to Murray Horwitz, Tamika Smith[https://www.matchbox.io/tamika-smith/], and the entire Matchbox.io team forkeeping cultural currency on its toes. To learn more, visit askQOTD.com[https://www.askqotd.com/].Available on most podcast platforms and on Amazon Alexa ("Alexa, what's thequestion of the day?")