Our Nation lost another hero of mine over the weekend. George Carlin died of a heart attack. When I saw the first report this morning, I uttered almost his entire brilliant list of "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television" ("tits doesn't even belong on the list"). I still remember discovering and then endlessly listening to his comedy albums on high school bus trips for various activities. Especially when my punkrock friend Crito and I dominated the far back seat and got to choose what would play on the one allowed boombox for really only the cool kids within limited range to hear. I also remember once getting said boombox confiscated by one of the ubiquitous overly-churchy bus drivers and feeling as Constitutionally attacked as any fan of Carlin's hard-core wisdom ever felt. He was more accesible than Lenny Bruce, slightly less self-destructive than Richard Pryor, every bit as essential as both and even more on point when it came to censorship. I will miss him.
Hope your own classic comedy albums get dusted off today for the first time in years. Rock on.
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1 comment:
I was in high school when Carlin got busted down at Summerfest. I remember my friends and I being pretty outraged about the whole thing and how it just proved what a Gestapo the MPD was back then.
Yeah, he'll be missed. Man, 72 is way too young to go.
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