George Carlin (1937-2008); Dody Goodman (1914-2008)
I never found George Carlin either offensive or funny, though I believe people when they say how much his standup meant to them. He seemed like a nice enough guy in interviews, and I hate to hear that anyone decent has died, but I didn’t get him, I guess … like the “seven words” bit, a classic, but these words have not made me feel giddy or naughty since I was maybe thirteen. And it’s not as if he was the first comic to use these words.
Carlin is still a hard act to follow, but comic actress Dody Goodman also died yesterday, in the shadows of the announcement of his death. She, at least, I thought was funny—though, a bit shrill in long exposures—thankfully, she never was onscreen long enough to wear out her welcome with me. She wasn’t a standup comic, at least not to my knowledge, but her distinctive voice and timing, along with her “dizzy redhead” look of perpetual amazement, worked well for her in shows like MARY HARTMAN, MARY HARTMAN and the small character roles she got in films like BEDTIME STORY and GREASE.
I’m kinda lukewarm in the eulogies department, I see. Sorry about that, for all you fans out there. But today I walked out into the sunlight after my classes and suddenly realized I was walking in a different, distinctive way, not my usual stride.
Then it occurred to me that I was walking like my friend Luis used to walk on days like this, Luis who died four years ago last month of complications with Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
That realization choked me up all of a sudden, and I thought, “Shit. Luis should be here now, walking his own motherfucking walk.”
So for those of you who knew or loved Carlin or Goodman, my thoughts are with you now, and with my pal Luis.
No comments:
Post a Comment