Goodbye, Dummy!

 This is a reprint of a post from 2017 that should have gotten some more eyes, in my not-so-humble opinion, which carries a lot of weight here because, well, it's my blog and I'll re-post if I want to.

Mr. Warmth has passed away at the age of 90 years old.

To many of you, especially in this golden age of ageism, the only acceptable form of prejudice left in the world, his death is insignificant. "So what? Another old fart croaked. What's on Netflix?" But since the majority of you have no sense of history beyond five minutes ago, you have no idea that there has been a major shift in the timeline as the end of an era has occurred.

But who cares. right? Time passes. So does wind.

The bottom line is that Don Rickles made me laugh longer and harder than anyone for my entire life. It's rare to find someone, especially in comedy, that you found funny when you were young that could still have the same effect years later. Look at Jerry Lewis. I was a rabid fan as a kid, but as I grew older myself, not so much. Maybe my perceptive would have changed if I was French. "Mon dieu! That voice when he yells 'Lady!' Magnifique!"

But Rickles fractured and slayed me every time. His appearances on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson or The Joey Bishop Show were major events that I anticipated with as much excitement as I would if The Beatles showed up on Ed Sullivan. (the show, not the man) Years later, he was just as hilarious on Letterman, Leno, Kimmel or anywhere for that matter. Sure, he was slower, but his mind hit more cylinders than you and I will ever have. His insulting shtick was spontaneous and in the moment, relying more on improv than set material.

With Rickles gone, so too is the age of Show Biz Classic, a performer that wears a tuxedo un-ironically and gives 100% to an audience each and every time. Some of it came with a layer of schmaltz, but that was to soften whatever ill will that be be conceived from his act. The man had a work ethic that wouldn't quit, right up until the very end, just like the late Joan Rivers. Rickles has a talk show series in the can, did voice work for the next Toy Story and had bookings in Vegas as well as across the country he won't be able to make, but would if he could. Now THAT's old school.

Don Rickles represented show business how I always wanted it to be, though I know full well the reality is a lot starker beyond the lights, tinsel and gloss. But so what? It kept the fantasy alive and the laughs right on a-comin'. And for me, that meant everything and always will.

So long, ya hockey puck.

For more about Don Rickles, check out the Emmy winning documentary directed by John Landis,
Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project
and the fantastic book, The Comedians: Drunks, Scoundrels and the History of American Comedy by Kliph Nesteroff

The Nutty Bloviator

I have been remiss in my lack of acknowledgment about the death of Jerry Lewis. If you want to know the truth of it, I'm pretty ashamed of myself. Jerry was so a big part of my early life and as a supposed student of comedy, I should get a failing grade.

Like so many Boomer kids, Jerry was THE MAN. I grew up in what was considered his golden age as a performer, the clown prince of Paramount Studios, culminating in his masterpiece, The Nutty Professor. Anything he did was dipped in comedy gold. With the passing years, I basically grew out of the Jerry Lewis brand of humor, just as I had Laurel and Hardy and The Three Stooges. But I never turned my back on them. Why Jerry?

He didn't make it difficult, that's for sure. His massive ego kept getting in the way of what I liked best about him. Out of character, he preferred to explain the craft of comedy, taking it as a serious art form,  which it very well can be but there this line of thinking also breaks a major role in funny: Don't explain the joke. But explain he did until he became the joke. It's been said that Jerry was never funnier than when he was dead serious. And I had to agree. Jerry had worn his pretention like a coat of armor and it fit like those undersized suits he used to wear. Perhaps he was more Buddy Love than Professor Kelp all along. The disdain I felt spurred my backlash-or turn, rather.

But Jerry Lewis was also one of the true giants of Old Time Show Business, much like the Don Rickles. I've always been a sucker that chintz even at its schmaltziest and Jerry didn't disappoint. How's about a rousing rendition of "You'll Never Walk Alone"? His work ethic was unsurpassed, performing at an age when he didn't have to any longer, but did so for the best reason of all: The pure love of it.

A few years ago, I became increasingly annoyed when Robin Williams' good name was sullied by talks of being passe' and basically over the hill, ignoring his contribution to the world of entertainment. Here I am, guilty of the same goddamn thing, another lame ass member of the fickle public, tossing history aside and joining the cool kids to mock this ridiculous dinosaur. Shame on me.

I know it's late, but I hereby apologize to Jerry Lewis for not giving you the salute you so deserve from someone who should have known better because you made him laugh hard and laugh often in my life. And you were a greater influence on me than I truly realized. You inspired me. I wanted to do what you did and for awhile, I did, albeit on a much smaller scale. I got to write, direct and star in my own material and I have to give you some credit for that. I too found success in being a total idiot. And I won't deny it. It felt good.

Thanks, Jerry. Your mark on the world of comedy will always be huge, no matter what the cool kids say.