Things that make you go "Ha!"

I have to admit to possesing a prodigious memory. This can be a good or bad thing, depending upon what I remember, but it affords me the ability to recall one of the first things I saw on TV that made me roll on the ground laughing.

It was Bugs Bunny, spinning his leg like a propeller, kicking Elmer Fudd in the ass so hard, he shot to the top of a tree, where his head rang like a bell. I was 5 then, and I'm chuckling now, as I write this. Don't lie--how often have you wanted to do that to some cretin who was annoying you worse than telemarketers who mispronounce your name, then read from their script like a functional illiterate?

I love to laugh and make others laugh. Always. One of the hard things about dealing with limited sleep is that you don't laugh as much as you should. You don't find things as funny when your eyes are crossed.

Ahh, but I remember! Bugs Bunny, and Soupy Sales, whose antics with White Fang and Black Tooth were aimed at kids like me, but winked knowingly at adults.

Red Skelton, Bob Hope, Jack Benny...all the greats had peaked, but were still on top when I was a child. Get Smart, F-Troop, Dick van Dyke and the Beverly Hillbillies! All of those TV shows, and Mad Magazine helped shape my sense of humor.

Mad Magazine? Yes. Some of the best satire of that era was found between the pages of Mad Magazine. Artwork by the likes of Mort Drucker, George Woodbridge, and Angelo Torres perfectly interpreted the writing of Dick de Bartolo, Larry Seigel and others to make movie and TV satires positively side splitting. Anyone who ever picked up an issue of Mad can't forget the parody of The Godfather (called "The Oddfather," naturally), and what this gang did with the scene where the movie producer wakens in horror to the sight of his horse's severed head. In Mad Magazine, he woke up to a horse's ass (and who hasn't, you might ask?).


By adolescence, I could name my Top 5 favorite comedians: Don Rickles, George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Johnny Carson, and Robert Klein.

Rickles delivered what I still believe was the wildest, most uproarious week of television in the history of the medium. It was July of 1973, when he took over The Tonight Show for a vacationing Johnny Carson. It was six nights of what we now call "appointment viewing." I couldn't wait until 11:30, because I'd spent a whole summer day still laughing at what he did the night before.

Everybody was a target of his pin-pointed barbs, from Johnny's sidekick ("There's Ed McMahon, sittin' around the house with the robe open and a can of beer...buhlaaaaaaaaahhhP!!") to his own spouse ("That's the wife in the morning over breakfast; 'You wanna pass the coffee de-ah? BLaaaaaahup!'").

He harassed a Latino band member so repeatedly and hilariously, that on Rickles final night, an NBC camera caught the musician as he cleaned his fingernails with a stiletto knife. Rickles response made mockery of his own atonement. It was a scream. It's not possible to believe that Rickles could have sustained this kind of Herculean comedic effort five nights a week, 40 to 45 weeks a year. What he offered when Johnny was gone was unforgettable.

Not that Johnny was a slouch, of course. We all know what he did, and how he did it. That's why I remember lines he delivered that probably no longer exist on video-tape. Like when he was doing his Carnac bit one night in 1971 when I should have been asleep. One of Carnac's questions got a groan from the audience, to which Johnny quipped, "May a weird holy man put Easy-Off in your shorts!" Funny? I've remembered it for 36 years.

By that time, George Carlin and Richard Pryor had to stifle themselves to perform on TV. To enjoy them at their best meant getting a hold of one of the treasured comedy albums. There, Pryor could use raw language, and NO ONE used it to such deadly, laugh-til-you-pee-your-pants effect. Today's comics curse for the sake of cursing. Pryor USED the profanity to embellish the comedy, a crucial difference. The Mudbone routines alone stand out as some of the most consistent laugh inducing work ever performed.

As with Pryor, George Carlin worked a curse word or two...in a more observational way. He spoke the truth and made it funny. My friends and I would listen and listen in the hey-day of the comedy album. We'd listen until the punchlines and inflections became a part of our day-to-day banter. Even the name of a Carlin album would become a private joke. I'd look at a pal and intone "Occupation: Foole," just as Carlin had, and we'd break up.

Robert Klein? He became a favorite by being the first comedian to make mockery of "The Little Rascals," never attemted before 1970, that I know of. Then, during a Democratic National Telethon in 1972, Jackie Cooper was taking a pledge live on air, and needed to distract the audience while he got the caller's personal information. Klein, with long hair, wearing a flowered shirt, bell-bottomed pants and platform shoes, whipped out his harmonica, played a few bars, then sang out, "Oh...ethnic blues!"

He's made me laugh ever since. There was a night on the Letterman show in 1989 when Klein started riffing on finally discovering "Gilligan's Island." He was impressed that the show had a theme song that summed up the plot: "Here's Gilligaaaaan...and six imbeciles on an Island!"

We vault forward, here, at the mention of Letterman. David Letterman is the King of late night TV, and the legitimate heir to Johnny Carson's crown. It should go without dispute. He earned it. He did it the right way--by being himself.

Jay Leno, who wins the ratings race nightly, has always been a top stand-up comic. His humor goes down easy, even when there's an edge to it. Which accounts for the ratings, of course. He aims to please, a plus for guests not in the mood to be challenged. This is all terrific, but when Letterman is on opposite, why have plain yogurt when you can top off the night with something tangy?

David Letterman is a TV original. Debuting at about the time most households got their first VCRs, his show was the first example of "Must-tape-TV." It wasn't so much the monologue. Good writers turn out monologues that a pro can deliver with no trouble. The trade mark stunts, even he will admit, were inspired by his late night ancestors, like Steve Allen.

No, the key to the Letterman experience are the pliable facial expressions and the off-the-cuff ad libs that probe the intellect and rattle the cage. A withering look and a "No Paul, this isn't rehearsal," or "If that weren't enough, and by God don't you think it ought to be," and "This is just more fun than humans are allowed to have," had studio audiences in stitches, and made certain guests insist their agents never book them again.

NBC made the most of this by re-running shows starring devastated guests like Shirley McLaine, Cher, and Nastassia Kinski (Letterman wouldn't leave her foot-high, "Marge Simpson'" hairdo alone, reducing the beauty to tears).

There was a night in the 90's on CBS when Actress-Model Cindy Crawford sat in the guest chair, wearing very heavy eye shadow. She told a story about accidentally hitting herself in the face. Said Letterman, "That would account for the bruising about the eyes!" A year later, he apologized.

Another gem seemed to fly over every one's head but mine. Early into his now 14 year run on CBS, Rosie O'Donnell showed up in an olive drab one-piece uniform. As she sat down, and as the band stopped playing, Dave said to her, "You bring us greetings from Chairman Mao."

In short, the guy still makes me laugh, and during his illnesses, he was missed. Many years of good health to him. Letterman, surprisingly, Craig Ferguson; The Office, Scrubs, Seinfeld reruns and Tina Fey's 30 Rock deliver the laughs to me, here at the tail end of 2007. I could do three more paragraphs on Tina Fey, but I'll save that for a later time.

John Stewart deserves a blog as the sole subject, too. His wit and impact are on a par with Carson and Letterman. I'll touch on that next week, when I put the focus on who ISN'T funny...and who USED to be, but has allowed partisanship to blur his comedic vision. Hint: He's a Saturday Night Live Alum...and he's not named Chevy.