Here's to Johnny

A sad day today. A great man has passed.

I feel sorry for anyone who isn't old enough to remember Johnny; who isn't old enough to remember laughing oneself silly from 11:30 til 1:00, Monday through Friday, in the days before Johnny discovered the virtue of long vacations. And even when he was away, it was always a treat to see a brilliant guest host, like Jerry Lewis, or Bob Newhart, or another king of comedy. It was okay, because you knew Johnny was coming back, and you had something to look forward to.

Comedy died when Johnny left television, just like music died when Frank left the world. You may think you're seeing comedy when someone recites a random string of dirty words, or describes the anatomy of his squeeze, but that, my friends, is not comedy. Comedy is clever, and it requires thought, and it's concise, and it makes a point. Rent a video of one of Johnny's old shows, and you'll see comedy. Not in the sketches, which were his tribute to vaudeville; something easy and cheap. No, Johnny's comedy was in the monologue, and in the banter with his colleagues and guests, and in the seemingly innocent hosting of people who brought to the stage recalcitrant animals and preserved potato chips and wayward tomahawks. Johnny was a genius; a word too often bandied about, but descriptive of but a precious few.

When I was in elementary school, I stayed up to listen to Johnny, who was being watched by my parents in the next room. I knew even then that the best job in the world was to be Johnny Carson's monologue writer, which in those days was work for grown men, not frat boys. Comedy writing was the purview of males, and I wanted to break in bad. Still do. Because of Johnny.

Johnny was generous. He launched the careers of all the great funny men: Billy Crystal; David Brenner; Albert Brooks; Rodney Dangerfield; Gabe Kaplan; and of course, Jay and Dave. Where would any of those guys be today, without Johnny? He was praiseworthy and encouraging, and you knew, if Johnny liked somebody, he was somebody worth liking.

This is a sad time for comedy. Johnny's gone; Dave Barry's retired his column. It's hard to find the laughter these days, when it is so sorely needed. I'll always remember Johnny, and the infinite pleasure he brought with a clever bit; an hysterical aside; a brilliant double take. Just think what that couch in Heaven must look like now – Dean and Sammy and Frank; Bob and Bing and Milton; Buddy and Alan and Rodney.

On with the show.