Yes, I'm still mad about Carlin dying.

I remember when I first saw him. Cousin Jan and I were up late at her parents house watching HBO. Maybe around 1982 or 1983. We didn't know what the hell this was all about, but it was pretty cool-This guy is saying FUCK. On HBO. Repeatedly! Oh man! Tits! He's talking about tits! ("Myocardial Infarction! It's a gawddam heart attack!") I think it might have been our first exposure to real adult comedy.

We must have watched that HBO show at least 15 times that summer. I remember laughing until we could barely breathe. Not always about WHAT he said, but how he said it. I liked how he enjoyed words so much. How a simple word can speak volumes.

I don't usually get all morose about people dying. It's part of the cycle. But it will be one of my great regrets that I never got to meet George and thank him for being scary, smart, sad and funny all in the same show. I wanted to thank him for making comedy something smart, not stupid.

Tomorrow we'll be back to our regularly scheduled posting. Or semi-regular as it seems.