The other day, with all the Jay Leno–Conan O'Brien stuff in the news, I wrote about my yearning for the days when Johnny Carson was the king of late night.
I didn't realize, when I wrote that, how timely it was. In fact, I didn't realize it until today, when I discovered that yesterday was the fifth anniversary of Carson's death.
Actually, it's been even longer since Carson left The Tonight Show. He retired in May 1992. For anyone who grew up with Carson, it is astonishing to believe he has been gone from our TV screens nearly 18 years.
At the risk of sounding like someone in the grip of "Good Old Days Syndrome," as I have heard it described, Carson was the best. Perhaps this is the most accurate barometer: You could never tell from watching him on his show how intensely private he was. I've heard it said that Ed McMahon, Carson's sidekick, referred to him as "the most private public man who ever lived."
And if anyone would know, it would be Ed McMahon.
Carson made it look so easy. That is something people with talent tend to do. They make difficult things look easy. You see them doing whatever it is that comes naturally to them, and you think to yourself, "I could do that!" And then, when you try, you suddenly discover how much effort is required to make something difficult look so effortless.
Dennis Miller touched on this very thing not long after Carson died. He was a guest on The Tonight Show, and he was telling Leno about how poorly he had done the first time he hosted a talk show. When the show was over, he received a call from Carson, who told him, "It's not as easy as it looks, is it, kid?"
