May 22, 1992. I'll never forget it. I was about to turn 25, and our son hadn't even turned one month old. And one of my childhood icons was taking his final bow. In the age of running a newspaper route, I rarely saw Johnny Carson in his final years on TV, but I made darn sure I saw him on this night.
Johnny played a part in the first time I ever realized that I was "aging". I know, some of you will laugh, but, within 60 days of each other, my son was born, one of my childhood idols retired, the newspaper I grew up with folded, and I turned 25. I remember the day after Johnny's last show being in a funk all day long, for the first time in life honestly contemplating mortality.
The past several months, several events in my life have led me to wonder if I was in the midst of my version of the "mid-life crisis". I have no idea, but I will say this: January 23, 2005 will go down as one of the sadder days of my life.
As I got along in my teenage years, I, like all other American kids, followed stars, but I had few "idols". I had lots of favorite music groups and singers, but I didn't aspire to be that. I wanted to be in radio, so listening to an Alden Aaroe on WRVA was much more inspiring to me than watching, say, Robert Redford act. Thus, watching witty performers on television caught my eye, too, because, I can remember at the age of 5 hosting my own game show at home using a simple deck of cards.....thinking one day I could do it for real.
So, in a sense, I can taste just a bit of appreciation for Johnny Carson's upbringing, in a simple town nowhere near the limelight, emulating those who did what you truly, and only, wanted to do.
I also profoundly respect his uncanny ability to keep his private personna private. I have somewhat of a similar knack for that. When "on stage" preaching or hosting a concert, or emceeing a show, things which I've done countless times, I'm in my "element", and I get lost in the amount of people that may be there. Yet, put me at a dinner party or church social with 30 people in a small banquet room, and I guarantee you I'm the most uncomfortable person there, and the one who wants to find the door earliest, and the most.
Over the years I was on Christian radio here in Richmond, when, say, the cashier at Ukrops recognized my voice, I would feel a sense of gratitude, and many times a feeling of "wow, that's cool, they knew my voice!". Mostly, though, when they invariably said "you sound just like you do on the radio", I would answer, "Well, I only have one voice, that's all I've got." The "you sound just like you do on the radio" part, though, would qualify for me to be the ultimate compliment; because for me it was important to be constant, on-mic, and off-mic. Honestly, the recognition of being "the guy on the radio", many times, made me uncomfortable.
Does it mean you share or expose everything about you? Heavens, no. I, at my heart, am an introvert, and enjoy my time alone or in private with family. But I can also sit behind a mic in a radio studio and talk live with thousands of people and really not blink an eye thinking about it.
But, in the end, I have learned that you can and should be real in public and in private, consistently real. But, at the same time, you don't to have to bare all to do that. For example, being consistent in wearing deodorant daily doesn't mean I go up to co-workers, stick my armpit in their face and exclaim, "Check out the fresh scent!" to prove I, in private, used deodorant.
Johnny Carson, in the public eye of the 20th century, embodied that balancing act like no one else ever could even try.
Just last night, Bonnie and I were talking along the lines of being who you are everywhere you go, because, for one thing, you don't have to spend lots of time remembering which story you told what person, and what lies you'll need to cover up with others, etc, etc. When you're real, and honest, you never have to worry about those things. On The History Channel the other night during their "Presidents" mini-series, they quoted Presidential adviser David Gergen discussing President Ford's thoughts about President Nixon's "enemies list". He said, Ford said, "A man who has to keep a list of his enemies has too many."
When you're consistent in the presentation of your life, you don't have to remember what version of what story you told what person.....and you tend not to have much of an enemies list, either....except, ironically, in the case of some people who pass through your life whom insist on being on your enemies list, whether you have such a list or not. In other words, it doesn't matter what you say or do, they don't like you (or even out and out hate you), and there's nothing you can do about it. When it comes to that, though, I'm thankful I'm free not to worry about bitterness eating at my heart, the other party has that burden to bear.
One thing I am sorry about for Johnny's sake was that he apparently carried multiple grudges, and went many years not speaking to people. That's not judgment nor criticism, because I've gone years not speaking to members of my own FAMILY, for heaven's sake. I just hope he let any bitterness go before he left us.
I remember many "stars" I pretended to be and/or wanted to be like, in my young days, but very few I wanted to be like in my teenage years as I headed closer to adulthood. One of the very few, though, was Johnny Carson.
I've missed him since he left in 1992, I am enthralled by the fact that he never tried the obligatory "comeback"; he left on top, then went on to enjoy his private life....privately. I can dig that.
I pray he has made peace with God, because I'd love to meet him in Heaven one day, and I can only imagine the crowds at his mansion when it's time for a monologue.
I probably mentioned this on an earlier post, but it bears repeating: out of the countless thousands of people who were ever in the audience for The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, I'm honored to say I was one of them. June 16, 1983, on my first and only (so far) trip to Southern California. We had tickets, thanks to my brother-in-law, to see Carson, so it was David, me, and my Dad, in line about 90 minutes to make sure we'd get in. Robin Williams was the main guest that night. It was unbelievable.
Even cooler, being they taped the show at 5:30 Pacific Time, it still aired on the West Coast at 11:30, after late local news. So, I proceeded to go back to my sister's house where we were staying, stay up, and watch the show I attended on TV. How surreal was that.....
Thanks, Johnny, for being a part, and mirror of sorts, of who I am today.
And I bid you a very heartfelt good night.
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