01/24/05’s illustrious band:

Good night, Johnny

Brought to you by the late Johnny Carson.

Johnny Carson died over the weekend. This makes me very sad. Johnny was like an older, less famous version of my Dad, who died almost exactly four years ago. People would show these men anything, including their pets and their stupid stunts, and tell them anything, because they always responded with graceful good humor. The point was always to share the laugh, not make someone the butt of it. "Amuse, don't abuse," Dad always said. Johnny held court behind his desk on national TV, while Dad did it at the coffee table in his small-town drugstore. They both had a decent golf swing, but Johnny had a better bandleader. Other than that, they were pretty similar.

I grew up watching Johnny on The Tonight Show, and his tutelage, along with Dad's, has everything to do with my own present ability to spin a yarn, deliver a punchline, and make droll faces when it's someone else's joke. I pretty much stopped watching the show in 1992 when Johnny retired and Jay Leno took over. Leno lacks the suave confidence Johnny brought to his role of host. He's desperate for the laughs, not sure of them, and uncomfortable to watch.

When I was a teenager, my parents let me sleep in the basement of our house during summers to escape the heat of my upstairs bedroom. It was like having my own apartment, complete with a separate entrance (through which it never occurred to me to sneak out, and what would I have done anyway?) and, best of all, a TV. It was a tiny black and white TV, but it got NBC, and that was all that mattered. I'd stay awake grown-up late on the nubby old couch waiting for Johnny's slightly off-kilter start time, 10:35, to roll around. I watched him deadpan his way through current events, Hollywood fluff, and ridiculous skits, absorbing his flawless timing and his ability to turn even a failed gag into a laugh. He always managed to the make the audience his accomplice; you wanted to laugh with Johnny. Heck, you'd laugh before the punchline just because you knew he'd deliver. It was a great lesson in leadership.

Like Dad, who always welcomed new businessmen to town even when they were his competitors, Johnny was generous with newcomers. He launched the careers of numerous young comedians -- Leno, Letterman, Seinfeld, Roseanne -- who still measure their success in number of appearances on his show. He supported the old guard as well, giving radio and vaudeville stars access to a whole new audience from his stage. He made people look good even when he didn't have to, and they loved him for it. We all loved him for it.

Johnny didn't just showcase comedy, either. I first saw the King's Singers on The Tonight Show and sat open-mouthed through their a cappella arrangements of Beatles hits. I've been an a cappella fan ever since. I saw the Gypsy Kings for the first time there, too, and realized I'd been missing a whole world's worth of great music. I even saw post-modern mime, of all things (Mumnenschanz). Where else was a small-town girl supposed to get this stuff?

Johnny Carson's final exit means the passing of more than an individual; it's truly the end of the era of late-night TV hosting that he pioneered. Folksy good humor and the art of the anecdote -- staples of Dad's coffee klatch -- are mostly things of the past, replaced by faux edginess and product placement. As always, his timing is impeccable. He's left us laughing, and wanting more.

Today around the world: January 24 is Economic Liberation Day in Togo in western Africa.