I was mourning him all over again. I made a pledge at the time that I would never watch a late night talk show again. And, except for some very isolated moments, I have remained steadfast and loyal to the one and only King of Late Night.
For me, "The Tonight Show" was as much a part of my childhood as Bugs Bunny, the New York Mets, and homework. It was my earliest connection to a magical world. Hollywood. The stars I loved. The world I craved. And, sitting in my bedroom with my black-and-white TV set in Mount Vernon, New York, this all seemed so far away.
Johnny was my pathway to it all. I was a weird twelve-year-old. I loved a good television talk show. I've written about this before, but it bears repeating.
When I was a kid, I loved loved loved Fridays. Not only was school done for the week and the weekend of play was at hand, it was the one weeknight that my bedtime was not under Nazi control. Translation: I could stay up till all hours, as long as I kept the TV in my room and me quiet. Not an issue. I didn't want to do anything that might endanger my Friday night watching Johnny Carson and "The Tonight Show."
This was when late night talk shows were true entertainment. Spontaneous, funny, educational, always interesting. Nothing like the over-rehearsed publicist-driven offerings now hosted by Jay Leno and David Letterman. There's not an organic moment on their shows.
I looked forward to those Friday nights with Johnny. What old friend would I get to see that evening?
Tony Randall teaching us the origination of some obscure word.
Suzanne Pleshette complaining about her husband. Watching this, I had no idea that, years later, I would have several telephone conversations with that very man.
Pearl Bailey pulling Johnny out to join her in a soft shoe dance.
Jimmy Stewart reading one of his poems, perhaps dedicated to the paper clip.
Joan Embery from the San Diego Zoo putting some creature on top of Johnny's head.
Don Rickles popping out to surprise Johnny during a Japanese bath.
Maybe Carnak. Or Aunt Blabby. Or Art Fern. It was always a roll of the dice, but it almost always came up a winner for me.
Once I actually had to expand my viewership beyond Friday. In a much ballyhooed event, that crazy crooner Tiny Tim was going to actually get married on a "Tonight Show" episode airing on, gasp, a Monday (and school)night. This precipitated about three weeks of Kissinger-like negotiations with my mother to be allowed to stay up for the nuptuals. I had to commit to going to bed at 7:30PM for several hours, so that my eight hour plus sleep time would not be disrupted.
My alarm went off at 1125PM that night. My mother wondered about this alien noise. Had she forgotten our deal?
"Go to sleep!"
But....
But....
BUT....
I won the argument. And slept through my science class the next morning.
If I wasn't watching Johnny Carson on Friday nights, I was doing my own version of "The Tonight Show" in the basement. I've written before here about the "TV shows" I used to do in my own little cellar studio. Sometimes, I would arrange things for my sitcom set. Or "The Mike Douglas Show." But, there were certain days where the situation was right to do my "Tonight Show."
When Grandma's wash was drying on the line inside.
You see, that gave me the opportunity to have a curtain. I mean, I had to come onto the stage through a curtain like Johnny, right?
When Grandma had hung up her slipcovers, that was the optimum.
"Don't play stupid with my laundry!"
Hey, I was just trying to be as authentic as possible. And your slipcovers are fine, thank you very much.
When I got a little bit older, I started looking at Johnny's written material. Hmmm, I can do this. Suddenly, I would be writing down my own Carnac questions and slipping them into envelopes. I'd go "up the block" to my friends and do a one-man-show for them.
There was another bit that Johnny did which intrigued me as well. He'd put funny captions on classic movie photos and do somebody's family tree. Hmmm, I can do this, too.
I'd troop down to the Mount Vernon Public Library and pull out some books on old films. I'd find the weirder pictures and, then......RRIIIIIPPPPP. Right out of the book. To this day, there are probably some books in that wonderful hall of literature that are missing whole pages. Yes, I took them.
I'd mount the photos on cardboard and then, armed with my own version of a family tree, take them outside to entertain my friends in between punchball games. They laughed. I must have been doing something right.
As I have written before in these blog pages, my love for "The Tonight Show" also provided me with my first-ever attendance as a member of a studio audience. Long, long ago, Johnny's gabfest was based in NC Studios at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. And the age limit for tickets was a very loose "15." I would send for tickets and then my friend Leo and I would truck down there for the 530PM taping.
As soon as we got home, I would send for more tickets the very next day. I continued to do this for about four years. And we relished the 1230AM commercial break where they always showed the audience and we would clamor to see us enjoy that 15 nano-seconds of fame.
As I got older, I got to watch "The Tonight Show" a lot more than just Friday nights. And it was the ideal way to end a day of college or work. Because it was spontaneous. Television you will never ever see again. Whether it was a celebrity or maybe an animal, you didn't know what to expect. Like this less-than-toilet-trained coyote.
In this classic clip, Doc Severinsen and Johnny discuss their plans for Thanksgiving. Totally unscripted. And genuine.
Or the night where Ed McMahon was a little tipsy.
It's one show that I truly miss to this day. And now I go to bed on Friday nights at the same time I go every other night.
And I long for one more chance to stay up late with Johnny.
Dinner last night: Pizza with prosciutto and arugula at Skylight Gardens.
This was when late night talk shows were true entertainment. Spontaneous, funny, educational, always interesting. Nothing like the over-rehearsed publicist-driven offerings now hosted by Jay Leno and David Letterman. There's not an organic moment on their shows.
I looked forward to those Friday nights with Johnny. What old friend would I get to see that evening?
Tony Randall teaching us the origination of some obscure word.
Suzanne Pleshette complaining about her husband. Watching this, I had no idea that, years later, I would have several telephone conversations with that very man.
Pearl Bailey pulling Johnny out to join her in a soft shoe dance.
Jimmy Stewart reading one of his poems, perhaps dedicated to the paper clip.
Joan Embery from the San Diego Zoo putting some creature on top of Johnny's head.
Don Rickles popping out to surprise Johnny during a Japanese bath.
Maybe Carnak. Or Aunt Blabby. Or Art Fern. It was always a roll of the dice, but it almost always came up a winner for me.
Once I actually had to expand my viewership beyond Friday. In a much ballyhooed event, that crazy crooner Tiny Tim was going to actually get married on a "Tonight Show" episode airing on, gasp, a Monday (and school)night. This precipitated about three weeks of Kissinger-like negotiations with my mother to be allowed to stay up for the nuptuals. I had to commit to going to bed at 7:30PM for several hours, so that my eight hour plus sleep time would not be disrupted.
My alarm went off at 1125PM that night. My mother wondered about this alien noise. Had she forgotten our deal?
"Go to sleep!"
But....
But....
BUT....
I won the argument. And slept through my science class the next morning.
If I wasn't watching Johnny Carson on Friday nights, I was doing my own version of "The Tonight Show" in the basement. I've written before here about the "TV shows" I used to do in my own little cellar studio. Sometimes, I would arrange things for my sitcom set. Or "The Mike Douglas Show." But, there were certain days where the situation was right to do my "Tonight Show."
When Grandma's wash was drying on the line inside.
You see, that gave me the opportunity to have a curtain. I mean, I had to come onto the stage through a curtain like Johnny, right?
When Grandma had hung up her slipcovers, that was the optimum.
"Don't play stupid with my laundry!"
Hey, I was just trying to be as authentic as possible. And your slipcovers are fine, thank you very much.
When I got a little bit older, I started looking at Johnny's written material. Hmmm, I can do this. Suddenly, I would be writing down my own Carnac questions and slipping them into envelopes. I'd go "up the block" to my friends and do a one-man-show for them.
There was another bit that Johnny did which intrigued me as well. He'd put funny captions on classic movie photos and do somebody's family tree. Hmmm, I can do this, too.
I'd troop down to the Mount Vernon Public Library and pull out some books on old films. I'd find the weirder pictures and, then......RRIIIIIPPPPP. Right out of the book. To this day, there are probably some books in that wonderful hall of literature that are missing whole pages. Yes, I took them.
I'd mount the photos on cardboard and then, armed with my own version of a family tree, take them outside to entertain my friends in between punchball games. They laughed. I must have been doing something right.
As I have written before in these blog pages, my love for "The Tonight Show" also provided me with my first-ever attendance as a member of a studio audience. Long, long ago, Johnny's gabfest was based in NC Studios at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. And the age limit for tickets was a very loose "15." I would send for tickets and then my friend Leo and I would truck down there for the 530PM taping.
As soon as we got home, I would send for more tickets the very next day. I continued to do this for about four years. And we relished the 1230AM commercial break where they always showed the audience and we would clamor to see us enjoy that 15 nano-seconds of fame.
As I got older, I got to watch "The Tonight Show" a lot more than just Friday nights. And it was the ideal way to end a day of college or work. Because it was spontaneous. Television you will never ever see again. Whether it was a celebrity or maybe an animal, you didn't know what to expect. Like this less-than-toilet-trained coyote.
In this classic clip, Doc Severinsen and Johnny discuss their plans for Thanksgiving. Totally unscripted. And genuine.
Or the night where Ed McMahon was a little tipsy.
It's one show that I truly miss to this day. And now I go to bed on Friday nights at the same time I go every other night.
And I long for one more chance to stay up late with Johnny.
Dinner last night: Pizza with prosciutto and arugula at Skylight Gardens.
2 comments:
The Carson show was grown-up show business. He did not have "something for the youngsters" like Sullivan. The show was produced for our parents, not us. The best guests could think on their feet because they were used to live performances. They could work the room.
I loved when only the band laughed at a joke. They got it and usually it was dirty. Carson enjoyed cracking them up. He didn't work blue but loved slipping stuff past the censors.
And he was so funny when the jokes were bombing. He used it and started dancing. Simple and brilliant.
There was only one.
Carson was such a unique talent and I am grateful to you for getting tickets to see the The Tonight Show. Sad though that his personal life was kind of messy.
15avebud
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