Fine wine my ass, I’m getting old. In many ways I like it. Oh my joints hurt more. I have a bit of arthritis in my left thumb, and I make that sound when I get out of a chair sometimes, you know the one I mean. It’s somewhat reminiscent of a fishing dock creaking as it rubs against itself just before a summer storm.
Old people like metaphors too.
So I look to the future because that’s we have, but I glance at the past sometimes for fun.
Johnny Carson. No one has ever replaced him. I was a Letterman fan, still am. Conan has absolute moments of brilliance, but both them would agree that Carson was the one. He set the standard. He’d show grace and dignity one moment, then come out in an old woman’s dress and make dirty innuendo’s to Ed 5 minutes later. He had the ability to talk to Ayn Rand about her philosophy, Groucho Marx about his cigar, and Myrtle Young about her potato chip collection with ease and charm. He knew when to make the joke, and when to set it up. His timing was impeccable, especially when his monologue was at its worst. He seemed kind to up and coming comics, yet you knew he suffered no fools and was probably,at times, an asshole.
I loved the mystery of Carson.
There is a website with great tales about him, both good and bad. Carson 360 is an interesting look at the man, with many stories from the people who worked for and with him. This is not always a feel good site. Johnny was a mid-western man, that doesn’t equate with nice. I think that’s why I loved him. I knew him. In many ways, he was my neighbor or even my father He was who he was, and I doubt he ever did Hollywood fake very well.
So here is one of my favorite moments. It’s not one of the most well know, but it makes me laugh every time I see it. It’s in the timing man. It’s in the timing.