Posted on 01/25/2005 10:52:22 PM PST by JennysCool
On an impossibly pleasant Southern California day in the spring of 1985, I was hanging around the NBC studios in Burbank hoping to somehow acquire a ticket for the taping of one of David Letterman's shows -- he was in L.A. for a week on one of his extremely rare visits to The Coast -- but I was there for only one day and, as it turned out, completely devoid of luck.
Well, not completely. As it turned out, an NBC page took pity and slipped me a ticket for "The Tonight Show." It wasn't Letterman -- who was as white-hot then as he would ever get -- but it was Johnny, I was assured. No guest host.
I offer today a bemusedly solemn Carnac bow to my lucky stars that my second option was the one that came through.
Ironically, and parenthetically, the juxtaposition of "The Tonight Show" and David Letterman has provided two second options in my weird life. A decade or so after my Burbank sojourn I spent months submitting what I thought were sure-fire jokes to Letterman, with a stunning lack of success. I switched to faxing to "Tonight" and a couple of weeks later, Jay Leno led off his monologue with one of my compositions:
"The Jacksons: The family that put the funk in dysfunctional."
It has proven to be a joke with some lasting appeal, more's the pity. "The Tonight Show" even offered T-shirts emblazoned with "I Put the Funk In Dysfunctional."
I got $50.
At any rate, back to 1985 we speed as we wend our way through the corridors of the National Broadcasting Company to the surprisingly small studio that housed "Tonight" -- or, more particularly and appropriately, "The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson."
I noticed right off that the curtain through which Johnny made his nightly entrance was no enormous stage-spanning thing, but a colorful rectangle which was only as big as it had to be to give that illusion. Johnny's desk and the faux window background, too, were stripped of the larger-than-life patina they exhibited on television, where they seemed less a set and more an environment.
The audience was jammed and buzzing when I took my seat -- right next to the spot where Ed McMahon unleashed nightly his famous introduction for John William Carson, born in Corning, Iowa, and forwarded to us via Norfolk, Nebraska, the Navy, a trip to Los Angeles and a cheap little show called "Carson's Cellar," which got a little notice and led to somewhat bigger things.
Never America's Most Exciting Man, Ed McMahon was, quite pleasingly, a master at warming up a crowd. He asked a few questions of folks in the audience, cracked a couple of surprisingly good jokes, and exhorted us all to have an even better time than we were already having -- a difficult task, that. He also let us know in excitingly hushed tones that we were just seconds away from greeting, in person, the King of Late-Night Television, and while the expectant applause and nervous chit-chat was still going on, Doc Severinsen's band -- impossibly loud and wondrously brassy in that surprisingly small setting -- launched into that signature DAAAAA DA DA DAAAAA DA, Ed took his place a couple of feet from where I sat and let it go, while I watched him, enraptured: "From HOLLYWOOD! The Tonight Show, STARRING Johnny Carson!"
By the time he got to "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeere's ... Johnny!" We were every one of us at fever pitch, and when the curtains parted, and Johnny Himself walked out, looking back to give a little wave to whomever may have been hanging backstage that afternoon, we erupted in that wild, exuberant applause you always heard blasting from your TV set at that seminal moment in the proceedings.
And here's a little thing you might not have gleaned: In the midst of all that applauding, whistling, and whooping, there was also copious, joyful laughter in just seeing Johnny. So, here he was -- and he was real, after all -- a banty Nebraska rooster of a man, graceful, impeccably tailored, a whole Actor's Studio worth of mannerisms on display. He would grin and nod at the audience, bow slightly, turn to Doc, who gave him the Doc-salaam, cinch his tie, make motions to us to cool down the raucous welcome so he could say a few things to us.
I think I positively can't believe Johnny Carson is gone now because my memory of seeing him is still so abundantly fresh. If his set was smaller than it appeared on your set at home, Johnny Carson was immeasurably bigger. I was going to say seeing Johnny was a little like seeing your favorite President, but it was more than that -- your favorite President, after all, hadn't been welcomed into your home almost every single night of your life. And your favorite President's jokes weren't nearly as good. This encompassing familiarity, oddly enough, did not lessen the impact of Johnny Carson Live -- it increased it immeasurably.
I can't bring to mind the myriad subjects of his monologue -- I can only recall watching in wonder at the effortless way in which it was delivered. It was typical Carson -- the dry, midwestern deadpan, the jokes that thunked only to be sublimely rescued, the constant touch of the tie and the casual hands in the pockets as he leaned back and smiled his megawatt smile.
Fortunately, Johnny's website has a better memory than I, and it does recount the topics Johnny touched on that day: The Carrington wedding on "Dynasty," the NBC tour -- which I had managed to avoid -- speed bumps, parking lots, Marie Osmond, Johnny guesting on the visiting David Letterman's show -- Johnny told half of a joke and informed the audience that we would have to watch Letterman to get the other half (intense boos from all of us) -- Bill Cosby, Prince, Tina Turner, Yosemite, the president of Herbalife testifying before a House subcommittee.
A perfect time capsule of mid-'80s life, it would seem. Things were just a little simpler then, were they not?
In no small part, I think, because we had Johnny to simplify them.
Dom DeLuise was on the show -- celebrating a new cookbook and his star on Hollywood Boulevard -- and George Benson worked some real magic, as he does, with "Beyond the Sea" and "Being With You," but the guests were a very secondary consideration. It was most of all a Carson Tonight night. Johnny and Ed goofed for a long time at the desk, and demonstrated some products the writers had dreamed up. Doc's band played remarkable tunes coming out of the breaks. "What a band!" Johnny remarked, as always.
It was during one of the commercial breaks that Johnny surprised us, particularly those of us who had read magazine stories that he rarely interacted with the audience beyond the monologue and the occasional "Stump the Band" segments. During that break, while tossing around the cereal box he had held up to intro the commercial, Johnny called out to us there in the dark: Were we having a good time? How many of us were out-of-towners? From where? How many of us had tried to get into Letterman and -- poor things -- got him instead?
That got a big, big laugh.
I guarantee none of us in the audience that day now regrets being shut out of Dave's show. Dave is still with us, and hopefully for a long, long time to come.
Johnny was a long time gone, when he passed away this past Sunday. His last show was almost 13 years ago, seven years after I was -- as it turned out -- lucky enough to score a ticket. By every account, his retirement was the sort of idyll we all wish for our later years -- poker with cronies, sailing on the yacht, a little tennis, a little business. A picture taken just a couple of weeks before his death shows Johnny in line to see "The Aviator" -- hands in pockets, a bit of a paunch, white tennis cap over white hair, wraparound shades. He looks, in other words, good. He is smiling. He looks like you would want Johnny Carson to look at 79. Both in his personal and professional lives, he left us before he got truly old.
With your permission, one more memory of that day in 1985. After the show, we fans stuck around NBC, hoping for a sighting of Johnny or Dave. We got both. Letterman, behind a chain-link fence, waved to us congenially before ducking into a limo. It was a happy moment for us plebians, and everyone agreed Dave was pretty cool to have offered it.
Johnny -- well, he was another matter entirely. From around the corner in front of NBC Burbank came a red Corvette convertible, Johnny behind the wheel. Rather than speed up with the rest of the traffic, he slowed down, waved and shouted to all of us out there on the sidewalk, flashed us the famous smile and the Johnny-wink, and sped off into the Southland's perfect late afternoon.
"Wow!" was all I could manage to say.
Another, more experienced, fan there on the sidewalk chuckled and shrugged amiably. "He does that everyday," she said.
Thanks, Johnny.
Carson appreciation ping to youse guys.
Rest in peace, Johnny. A true American Icon.
Thank YOU, Eagle!
He sat on the deck alone most of the day watching the boats come and go. His white hair easy to see. As we left the harbor we waved and he waved back. July 2004.
Nice memory, that!
Very nice writing--made me feel like I was there. I think my brother got to attend a Johnny Carson show in the 80's. Unfortunately, there was a guest host.
My reaction to the news of his death surprised me since I rarely have any feelings about the famous people who exit stage left. Johnny was an exception because he was there throughout a good portion of my life. I somehow had the perceived notion that I knew him. So long Johnny.
BTTT!
Thanks.. Nicely written...
Thank YOU, tje!
Dang! That was tough luck! Who was hosting? And hi to Wally and the Beave! :-)
Carson at the Sahara -- now THAT'S a good ticket!
Thanks, Lin!
Hey, thank YOU for much enjoyment and those urgent, on-the-scene screen caps!
Well done, Lin. It was like being there for someone who never had the privilege.
Thanks.
Appreciated. Thanks.
You know, I'll have to ask him. I'm pretty sure it was during Johnny's reign that he saw the program. I also remembering him saying that the set was not very impressive--just as you had said in your remembrance.
Thanks Jenny....I only visited the Tonight show with Johnny Carson live once a couple of years after your experience in November 1987. Arrived around 4 in the standby line but got in with the nosebleed seats. All the gang was there and Jimmy Stewart was the guest. Your experience pretty much matches mine in many ways. It was indeed a great memory.
Sorry I should say thanks Lin!
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