Close Encounters of the George Carlin Kind

By GottaCry

Before my eyes were open this morning, I learned of George Carlin's death. Mr. Laffy walked in with the L.A. Times front page and said, "George Carlin died." I gasped, and then opened my eyes to see his photo and the headline. Then I cried.

Where do I start? I knew George Carlin briefly when I was an actress. He wrote a movie and called me in to audition. Since he'd been a hero of mine since early childhood, I was terrified and excited to actually meet one of the most intelligent, original minds of comedy. What started out as a meet-and-greet turned into a rewarding, hilarious 5-part series of casual, leisurely sessions of the Mutual Admiration Society. What a sweet, funny man he was in person...

We sat around for hours, breaking into into character voices to push our one-liners, discussing his movie, yacking and yucking it up as if we'd known each other for years. He even ran a joke by me for approval, and when I cracked up, he said, "That's it, I'm keeping that one." It was -- and if you're a fan, you'll know this one -- the "one black cornflake in the box" one. He's done variations of it ever since. I couldn't have been more flattered, but my guess is, he'd previously run it by several way more brilliant minds than mine and was just being kind.

After several meetings, he told me he liked one of my characters so much that he would do a rewrite, replacing one of his with mine. I was floored.

I spent most of my time in those meetings just staring and marveling at his wit, pinching myself, trying to convince myself that I really was experiencing such special moments with such a special man.

The movie never happened. The funding was pulled, he moved it to Canada, and I never heard of it again. However, when I sent him a thank-you letter (no computers back in the'80s), he sent something back to me: An 8x10 color glossy with the inscription, "Dear [Laffy], How wonderful that you are mentally ill also. Love, George". I framed it, and it hangs on my wall to this day. Since receiving it, I've acquired a new sense of pride in my "mental illness".

But the most touching tribute to him came today, in my inbox. Several of the kids in my Comedy Workshop woke up early enough to send me messages about his death. I taught about him in the Workshop, but never expected to have made the impact that it did. Here's what a couple of them said:

"GEORGE CARLIN DIED.
=[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
I'm like... crying.
I never thought I'd cry over someone I've never met dying
I didnt even cry when my great grandmother died"

And...

"I'm nearly crying right now.

Don't know if you've heard...actually the comment below mine told you so I guess you have...

George Carlin. How painful is that gonna be do add a deathdate in the notes in comedy next year?

Man. I never got to see him live, and that was one of my dreams.

He's a legend though. He'll continue to get new fans for many many years to come. And of course us existing fans will never forget him."

How wonderful that he was mentally ill also.