Laughing

Johnny Carson hosting Don Rickles

NBC/The Tonight Show

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

Written material only

 So I had an evening when time was hanging heavily on my hands, so I turned to that incredible piece of technology we euphemistically call a phone, but is actually more aptly described as a hand-held computer.  I went to the YouTube© site and started by looking for the best John Wayne scenes from his movies.  At one point, I happened across a piece of video taken from one of Don Rickle's many forays into network television (all unsuccessful, as it turned out).  Rickles was hosting a variety show and one of his guests was The Duke.  Well, as these searches sometimes go, that turned into a lot of video from Rickles' career.  But while he was a superstar on the stage circuit (he was huge in Vegas), I think so much of his best work came from his interaction with the legendary late night talk show host Johnny Carson.

I pretty much grew up watching Carson.  His monologues with which he opened his show were fabulous, and even when he had a joke that went flat, he had a way of rescuing the moment in a way that was incredibly funny.  Carson had a universal appeal that went beyond the glitz and glamor of Hollywood and New York.  A big part of that was his roots.  He was a Midwesterner, born and bred in Nebraska, and even in the presence of such legends as Jack Benny, Frank Sinatra, and Dean Martin (I'm undoubtedly dating myself here), he struck the perfect balance between folksy and sophisticated.  Even after he finally retired, the affection of his audience never faded.  On one occasion, just a few months before his death, he was invited on the Letterman show to do a Top Ten list.  He came out on stage, and the audience erupted in cheers, standing in tribute.  The adulation went on so long that Carson abandoned the bit and eventually left the stage, I suspect moved to tears by the crowd's obvious affection.  In the years since, there have been successors and wanna-be's, but in the minds of those who watched him all those years, there was only on Johnny Carson.  And there'll never be another.

Anyway, as I began to scroll through the videos of Carson's unquestioned reign, I came upon one compilation that covered just about every appearance Don Rickles appeared on The Tonight Show during the decade of the 1970's.  Rickles was known as primarily an insult comic, that is, getting his laughs through apparently putting down other people, even Carson himself.  But those who knew Rickles privately were unanimous in their assessment that offstage, Don Rickles was a humble and gentle man, who treated people with unquestioned warmth and dignity.  The schtick of insult was merely for the stage.  The end result of his act was a kind of mad hilarity.  Watching those snippets, I was transported back in time to a different era, where we were not nearly as obsessively sensitive about what people were saying.  We still had the ability to laugh at ourselves, especially laughing at comedians laughing at us.  The compilation lasted over an hour, and before it was even a quarter over, I had laughed myself into tears and rib pain.  It felt wonderful.  I hadn't laughed that long or hard at anything for...well, longer than I could remember.  I felt something shake loose inside me and fall away, that dark shroud over my spirit put there by the events of the past year or so.  

Now, I know that Don Rickles is, at least by today's standards, very much an acquired taste.  And if you weren't around during that time, it probably won't mean anything to you.  But his humor was never meant to be taken seriously or personally, and everyone knew it, especially his friends (very much including Carson) of which he had legions.

"Sailor Man"

 

Originally published in the Eugene, Oregon Morning Register, February 2, 1929, author unknown, but I feel reflected in these words.

Sailor Man
--Unknown

He was one who followed
Dreams and stars and ships;
They say the wind has fastened
Strange words upon his lips.

There was something secret
In the way that he would smile,
As if he could remember
The laughter of a child.

Wayward as a seagull
Lonely as a hawk;
Yet he believed in angels
And heard the dolphins talk.

They speak of him as careless
A whimsical salty stray;
Nothing ever held him
Longer than a day.

I truly think he swaggered
Playing the sailor’s part;
But the rock of his exterior
Hid a gentle heart.

He spent his life a-roaming
With this hope he did contend
That the other side of nowhere
Led him somewhere in the end.

The Year Without

 

An empty Waikiki at the height of the shutdown.

Image © 2020 by Ralph F. Couey

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

In the year 1816 there occurred what has been known as "The Year Without a Summer," a climatological and agricultural disaster on a global scale.  The precipitous drop in temperatures was the result of three influences.  First, there was the eruption of the Tambora supervolcano in Indonesia that dumped about 60 cubic miles of debris and gasses into the atmosphere.  On top of that was the ongoing climate event known as the Little Ice Age, a period of global cooling that lasted from the 16th to the 19th centuries.  Those two events coincided with an historic low solar minimum, during which the sun's irradiance lowered significantly.  Some paintings survive of this time, showing people skating on the frozen river Thames in London during June, and other art depicting the garish sunsets caused by the ash, dust, and gas in the atmosphere.  What doesn't make it into the art of the period is the story of the collapse of agricultural growing season and the resulting famines around the world.  It was one of those moments in time when the human race survived on its sheer stubborn toughness.

The Pandemic of (plug in whatever reference you want here) has been a part of our lives now for nearly a year.  During that time, we have seen the numbers the ill and the dead climb steadily.  Now that the weather is colder and more people are staying inside, the numbers are skyrocketing, even as the welcome news of vaccines begins to trickle in.

That life we once called "normal" is gone, possibly for good.  We lost most of our summer activities, although some stubbornly continued to travel.  Baseball was a foreshortened season, and other sports, notably basketball and hockey, suffered impacts.  The NFL soldiers on, although playing in front of mostly empty stadiums with piped-in crowd noise.  We waded through those changes and now face a new round of shutdowns as governors and mayors try to stem the advance of the disease.

But now we are facing the most heart-rending loss:  The Holiday Season.  

Thanksgiving and Christmas were always eagerly anticipated as times when families, however far-flung, would traverse the miles and gather.  There, in that bubble of love, affection, and way too much food, we would be able to emotionally recharge each other.  For nearly all of us, the most precious and heart-warming memories revolve around these two months of joy.  These events, these gatherings have been celebrated in poetry and song, cementing those golden memories within us.

But this year will be different.  

Peace, Healing, and Places

Photo © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

"I go to nature to be soothed and healed;

To have my senses put in tune once more."

--John  Burroughs

 I found a few free hours this week to steal away from everything.  The collective division and angst over the election, along with other things of a more personal nature, had pushed me to the point of just wanting to unplug.

Fortunately, I have a place to go where this can happen.  Just north of Hale'iwa Ali'i Beach Park, the shoreline curves seaward.  There, a number of trees have taken root, their graceful branches arcing across the sand.  It's a quiet place, away from nearly all of the tourist traffic.  Swimmers don't come here much because the exposed lava rock beneath the surface make it a hazardous place for feet, hands, and elbows.  But I don't go there to swim.  Under the shade of those trees, I sit in my beach chair, stretch out my legs, and rest.

It was a mostly sunny day, a bit of a relief from the spotty showers that signal the onset of the wet season here.  The trade winds were back, bringing a refreshing breeze which lowered the heat and kept the flies away.  After getting settled, I leaned back and listened to the steady roll and wash of the surf, a sound that always relaxes me.  Pretty soon, I began to see sea turtles floating among the rocks at the water's edge, occasionally sticking up a head to look around.  The steady breeze crenelated the surface of the sea, but not harsh enough to raise whitecaps.  It was a perfect, peaceful moment.  

I sat there for several hours, not thinking about anything.  I had brought a pad a pen along in case inspiration proffered, but I was content to sit quietly, and just...be.

I need this time.  Unfortunately, the vicissitudes of life make it less available than I'd like, so when the opportunity presents itself, I head north.

I kind of lost track of the time as the afternoon passed.  Above, puffy clouds slowly passed, only occasionally blocking the sun.  I felt myself slowly relaxing, my muscles gradually relaxing to the point where scratching my nose felt like a major effort.  I could hear the birds in the trees, singing their songs, occasionally descending to the sand where they wobbled past, giving me an inquisitive sidelong glance.  Little insects skittered across the sand, always zipping landward when a wave got too close.  With my mind empty and undistracted, all the details of life became visible.  

The View From Orbit; The Perspective of Eternity

International Space Station

NASA

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

A few weeks ago, I was standing outside in Diamond Head Crater, taking a few moments for a breath of fresh air.  I was using a new app I had downloaded which when pointed upwards, allows the user to identify stars and planets in the night sky.  As I was scanning, a new object entered the screen, moving rapidly.  The app identified the object as the International Space Station, or ISS.  I lowered the phone, and sure enough, I found a point of light streaking across the sky.  It was an interesting moment, finding something man-made in a vista where I had only seen the stellar and planetary residents of the universe.

I watched the tiny speck until it dipped below the walls of the crater.  Up there, about 260 miles up, a group of humans were busily working on scientific experiments, folks who had forsaken earth and family for months working in that most inaccessible of labs.  There were people there, not so different from me.  For a moment, I felt a small connection.

Last summer, I found another app called "ISS Live Now."  There, anyone can access an HD camera that is always trained on the planet below.  As most of earth is covered in ocean, it can be kind of boring.  But when the station does pass over land, the vistas are tremendous.  I accessed that app tonight, perhaps looking for an off-planet escape from the mess here on earth.  I had read once that astronauts described the most profound moment of their lives as that first time they saw their home planet from space.  That perspective, they said, was life-changing.  When I opened the app, the station was passing over the Pacific southeast of Australia.  A little while later, it crossed the terminator into night and passed over southern Europe.  I was hoping to see the glow of great cities, but all I saw were small bits of light. Occasionally, I saw other lights streaking through the camera's field going in the opposite direction.  I puzzled over that, until I realized that they must be aircraft.  Their apparent speed was the effect of the ISS's orbital speed of 17,100 mph while they were zipping along at 600 or so mph.  That meant they were passing each other at a combined speed of almost 18,000 mph.  Nights and days in orbit pass quickly, so it wasn't too long before the terminator was crossed again, just prior to the station passing southeastward over the Arabian Peninsula.  The app allows you to grab images from the display and I got these:

About November 3rd...

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the election.  I promise I will not write about the