Back in the
'70s, my friends and I used to enjoy the comedy of George Carlin, who
died of heart failure on Sunday, June 22. He was irreverent and
represented a lot of what we thought back then.
He started out as a coat and tie comedian in the '60s, appearing on such fair as The Ed Sullivan Show. He was not run-of-the-mill but he didn't really stand out either. One of the characters he would play in his routine was the Hippy Dippy Weatherman.
"Tonight's forecast: Dark. Continued dark tonight, turning to partly light in the morning."
Fair warning: The content in the
links and text below may contain offensive language... which is what
made it all the more fun back in the
'70s.
The
weatherman was mildly amusing, and typified most of his early routines.
But in the '70s, Carlin shed his coat and tie and seemed to take on the
persona of the Hippy Dippy Weatherman --long hair and beard--except the
new weatherman was less wasted, was more socially opinionated and
conveyed a political consciousness that stood up to the establishment,
left or right. As a result, many of his routines were considered too
radical, and certainly too hardcore for main stream media. He critiqued
society, especially American society for it obsessions, such as its
fear
of germs: "In prison, before they give you a lethal
injection, they swab your arm with alcohol!" And he also pointed out
that eating unhealthily leads to overweight people: "Huge piles of redundant
protoplasm." He was over the top and his humor was very crude, usually
insulting large sectors of society while he was at it.
But above all, Carlin was a word-meister,
and he was most amusing when he talked about language and how some of
it is too politically correct or simply didn't make sense, like legally
drunk: "Well if its legal, what's the fuckin'
problem? Leave my friend alone, officer. He's legally drunk!" But he was
most famous for the Seven dirty words you can't say on TV: Shit,
piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits. He later added three
more: fart, turd and twat. He talked about the hypocrisy of these TV
standards. According to Carlin: Even kids know what a "fart" is--taking
a shit without the mess--but you couldn't use the word on TV. But you
could use the word "prick" because it was only a part-time dirty word;
you could prick your finger, just don't finger your prick.
His routines were not for the fainthearted or holier-than-thou crowd, but his humor, in many cases, was simply an expression of a lot of things we had thought of before with new twists, which is what made it so funny. Sadly, the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in DC announced on June 18, four days before he died, that they would award Carlin the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor in November. I'm sorry that this award will be awarded posthumously.
I wrote the other day about how I love to
watch political talk shows. One of my favorites was Meet the Press on
NBC Sunday mornings. During the 80s, I usually surfed between the shows
on the three national broadcast networks--Face the Nation, This Week,
and Meet the Press--but after I cam back from Japan in 1996, I watched
Meet the Press exclusively because of the moderator, Tim Russert.
Moderators usually have to be pretty sharp
about politics and people like David Brinkley were, although their
delivery could be a little egg-headed at times. Others, such as the
Mclaughlin Group was interesting, but it was often contentious, with
everyone yelling at each other. Tim Russert always hit the right note.
He was down to earth, and spoke in a way that was always
understandable. He was from Buffalo, NY, raised in a family of modest
means, and loved sports. He was the average Joe. He was also very
tough, especially in his interviews. He would put on the screen a quote
attributed to the guest, read out loud, and then confront the guest:
"Do you still believe this" or "Could you explain what you meant by
this?" But he never yelled or seemed disrespectful. He was simply
hardcore, not allowing a politician slide by with non-answers.
Well, this moderator for whom I have much
respect died of a heart attack on Friday. This was
very hard to believe. I had just seen him last Sunday on the air. He
seemed perfectly fine. And he was only 58 years old. By all accounts,
he was healthy, and even passed a stress test on his heart this past
April with flying colors. Apparently, what happened was that
cholesterol plaque that had built up in his artery ruptured and clotted
his artery, stopping the flow of blood to his heart completely. From
what I heard on TV, this is the worst kind of heart attack possible.
Even when witnessed by emergency specialists, this kind of heart attack
has only a 5% survival rate. That was an eye opener to me. I mean, you
could get this kind of heart attack in a hospital, and your chances of
survival would be low.
This reminds me of
all the unhealthy things I've done in my lifetime--smoking for 30
years, eating unhealthy snacks and fast food, etc.--and compels me to
consider my own mortality. Could I have built up enough plaque in my
arteries over the years to kill myself if they ever ruptured? From what
I know, there is really no drug to dissolve or reverse the build up
already there. Kinda scary.
In any event,
I looked forward to Meet the Press every Sunday, as well as to his
comments and coverage of the presidential campaign this year almost
every Tuesday on MSNBC. I will miss him greatly.
It's been truly crazy weather of late. Tornados in the flatlands of middle America. Snow in the Rockies. Floods in the upper Midwest. Yesterday I jogged in the stifling heat--over 95 degrees. It's been at least 10 degrees higher than the seasonal average since Friday. But at least the heat isn't destructive, and as a SoCal boy, the heat is something I can deal with. I have learned to deal with the humidity as well, thanks to living in Japan for a number of years.
So yesterday, as I jog through a local park near our home in northern Virginia, I passed a "public house" there. No, it's not a beer joint, but a county-owned facility that residences can rent for events such as weddings. It is also the local precinct polling location. And yesterday, Virginia held its primary for congressional seats.
The seat up for grabs is Virginia's US House of Representatives, 11th District. It is the seat that Tom Davis (R) holds. Yes, the honorable Tom Davis whose office helped us with M's permanent residency. As I believe most of you know, I am no dyed-in-the-wool liberal, but I tend to lean a little left of center politically. Still, Tom Davis did me right and I would have voted for him, if he was running for re-election. But he is not.
Anyway, as I was running/walking by the public house, I noticed the sign "vote here". I had forgotten it was election day. So after I returned home, I showered, did a bit of work and then set out to vote around 6 PM. There was virtually no one there, so fulfilling my civic duty was pretty painless. I then headed for a local watering hole called Famous Dave's on Chain Bridge Road. It has pretty good ribs but that's not why I went. I needed to whet my whistle after four consecutive days of running outside at least one hour each day.
There, I saw the regulars--Matt, the bartender, Gary and his girlfriend Debbie, and a few others. After my third beer, we begin to hear thunder. Oh crap, another summer thunderstorm. These are fairly common, actually, but can scare the shit out of me. We debated about which is the scariest natural phenomenon. I insist its thunder, because even though it's random, you can't escape it if it has your name on it. The others blanch when I tell them that an earthquake is no big a deal--I've been through many, including the Sylmar quake of 1971 and the big one in San Francisco in 1989. I'd rather be in the middle of an earthqhake than be struck by lightening. Then suddenly someone said, Tornado.
"What?" we all looked out the window. "There's no tornado," we laughed. But we did see hail falling from the sky and getting larger right before our eyes.
"Doesn't it hail when a tornado appears?" someone nervously suggested.
".........."
Well, it hailed for about fifteen minutes, getting as large as small walnuts at one point. But it ultimately subsided with no sign of a tornado. Whew...
This weather is crazy. I mean, 95-plus degrees in the afternoon and hail in the early evening? How illogical is that? Is this a by product of global warming? The thought of a dented up car crossed my mind, but when I checked it out later, there didn't seem to be any damage. Fortunately, the thunderstorm was just another freaky summer storm in a summer of unfortunately freaky weather everywhere else.
