"john and George"

john and George

by john daniels,jr.

My Uncle Rex had a profound, and in some ways profane, effect on me. He had a passion for politics a great love for the country and was a man who never met a satire he didn’t like. He was a journalist. Rex started me on the path of counter culture semi-rebellion which has thrust me into the artist I am. It is Mom’s fault I’m Catholic.

"I was born an Irish Catholic now I’m an American. You live, you grow." spoke George Carlin on his "Class Clown" Album. It is same record that contained "The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television." I know them by heart.

The class clown, who had long since left school and came back as the teacher, graduated this week. Maybe. Perhaps he’s in Limbo (it no longer exists) or as he joked, "Purgatory, it’s as bad as hell, but you know you going home."

It wouldn’t surprise you if I told you Rex was a Carlin fan too. I want to believe he is trying to give George some new material right now. They are sitting on stools at the bar. Rex is pouring some Bushmill’s Irish Whisky into his black coffee and George is passing him the sugar. How long is a conversation that never has to end?

The funny thing about my introduction to George Carlin is that it came from a friend who grew up a true red neck. A red neck son of a red neck father living for black-powder hunting and French fry sandwiches with lots of Miracle Whip.

It was the summer before my freshman year in high school. I was working at a Baskin-Robbins ice cream store and Tuesday was my day off. One Tuesday I rode the bus out into the sticks and walked a few miles to spend the day with my friend. I walked into the garage and opened the kitchen door. The smell of homemade French fries and cloud of smoke greeted me.

"The bread’s over there. Wash a knife and the mayonnaise is in the fridge." ordered my friend.

"My dad just got a new record and you’ve got to hear it. We have to get the kids to go outside and play first."

"Why?" I asked.

"Trust me," he replayed. "I’m going to take the potato peelin’s out to the garden. You make the sandwiches." My friend grabbed up two full handfuls of peelin’s from the kitchen sink and went out the back door.

The Labrador Retrievers backed with excitement.

"Not for you. Not for you," but the dogs barked on.

I made about five pounds of sandwiches.

It was the rural ice cream truck and the change in my pocket that finally got the two brothers and the sister out of the house. It was the locks on all of the doors that keep them out.
The album was FM / AM. We started on FM. A story starts with a lady dropping a macaroni casserole and screaming, "Shoot!" Then came the Carlinesque observation "Shoot is sh*t with two o’s" I laughed and said, "That’s my Mom." We listened to all the cuts on that side, "The Hair Piece," "Sex in Commercials," "Drugs," and "Birth Control." I laughed until I cried. My friend laughed at me.

All I wanted to do was tell Uncle Rex about George Carlin. Of course he knew already. The only artist I ever turned Rex on to was Warren Zevon. I imagine Warren is ambling up to the bar to tag in on the conversation with Rex and George as I type.

That summer I had been collecting Credence Clearwater Revival records. There was a Kroger’s food store with a record section across from the Baskin-Robins. Every Friday, pay day, I walked to the bank and cashed my check and then over to the Kroger’s to buy the next record. That Friday I looked in the comedy section. "FM / AM" was not there, but an older Carlin album, "Take-off’s and Put-on’s" went home with me. It was not cutting edge counter culture, but it was funny. The style was there. The thinking process was there. It was funny.
During my freshman year took speech. Toward the end of the year we were required to perform a humorous monolog. I took out "Take-off’s and Put-on’s." I love a routine called, "The Indian Sergeant." It was a five minute take on the Indian’s fighting style and the need for there own World War II type Drill Sergeant. It didn’t take me long to learn it. I loved it.

Speech that year had been a loss for me. I thought it would be something that would take me to the next level, but I spent most of my time in trouble, the hall or the office. I even did a stint with my desk turned to the wall. When I performed "The Indian Sergeant" it all changed. I made my first "A" in high school. Suddenly the teacher couldn’t stop talking about me and speech competitions next year.

I went to the Sinton, Texas Speech Tournament in the fall of the next year. At the time performing recorded material was against the rules. I liked the idea of doing "my" routine and it was against the rules. I think George would have approved. On my side was the fact that the album was out of press and ther was no internet at the time. Hard to prove it was recorded. They had to take my word. I performed. I won, First Place Humorous Interpretation. Mom has the trophy. My life changed. It was the moment I knew I could do what I wanted to do.

I was soon after expelled from school for the remainder of the year.

During my time off I changed friends and the album Class Clown was released. CB radios took South Texas by static. My "handle" the name you used to identify yourself on the radio was The Indian Sergeant and my new best friend went by The Class Clown. "KQC-9306 The Indian Sergeant, how ‘bout it Class Clown, ya by?"

By now it is 1975 and Mom reads the weekly local TV guide and sees that George Carlin is going to host a new show on Saturday night. Mom knows I’m a big Carlin fan. I invite my best friend over and I invite my girl friend and his girl friend and many of our other speech and music friends over. Both couches, the over stuffed chair and the floor are occupied. It is a full house. It is the first Saturday Night Live or as it was known then, "Live from New York its Saturday Night."

The musical guest was my uncle Rex’s favorite singer Gordon Lightfoot. The Not Ready for Primetime Players was everything my friends and I want to become. Carlin did a bit on Baseball and Football that is still fun to think about. Lightfoot played Sundown and then there was John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Chevy Case, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtain, Lorraine Newman and Gerri Morris and an Elvis bit done by some guy named Kaufman. A synthesis of everything we were thinking, but sex. OK, that was there too. George Carlin leading the way.

For the next four years, Saturday’s where reserved for my house and SNL. Rex was a big fan too.

Life goes on and many things happen. In the early 1990’s I was living in a theatre with my one year old son Matt and my wife April. We had no money, but we had a theatre and many friends. We did shows to stay alive. It was my birthday and April had gotten me a present. There was no money for presents. I don’t know how she did it. Matt was gone with relatives for the evening and April walked me over to the convention center which was three blocks from our theatre. We had to walk… no car. As I turned the corner the marquee read, "Tonight: George Carlin."
He was wonderful. What a present. As for his list of euphemisms for masturbation…. I just say he had it in hand.

Recently when Tim Russert died April said to me, "Some people deserve to be mourned." She was right. They do. Tim Russert, another Irish Catholic-American, Carlin would think of something funny to say about that.

Right now Tim is dragging a stool over to the bar and ordering a Rolling Rock and trying to steer Rex’s rant in another direction while George takes a turn laughing and Warren strums his guitar. After all he is an excitable boy.

I can’t wait for my son Matt to come home from his Rock-n-Roll vacation. We own all the old Carlin Albums on vinyl. Matt already loves French fry sandwiches, but with real mayonnaise. I don’t peel the potatoes anymore. We will drop the needle and laugh until I cry. < <

Thanks john and Thank you George.

john daniels,jr. is a Texas actor/writer/director/musician/father/friend and pop culture appreciator. He is currently the Playwright in Residence for EASYTheatre(http://www.easytheatre.com/) and can also be contacted at john@johndanielsjr.com