Tribute: George Carlin (1937-2008)

On this date three years ago comedian, author, and actor George Carlin died.

Those descriptors only tell part of the story, however. Carlin’s name is forever imprinted on how the U.S. views language fit for broadcast over the public airwaves. His dissection and analysis of language and the way we use it trickled into nearly every routine he shared with an audience. His social critiques were both funny and poignant, making listeners at the same time laugh and wonder what the hell is wrong with all of us.

Nothing was out of bounds in Carlin’s comedy, and that was always the point. He knew everything from the absurd to the universal and the mundane to the controversial could be funny…as long as we, the audience, were willing to laugh at ourselves.

Carlin released a dozen albums and was featured in a dozen HBO concert specials. He performed in front of countless fans over the years, won several Grammy awards, appeared on TV numerous times as both an actor and a comedian, acted in a number of movies, and wrote four best-selling books.

George Carlin has been and probably always will be my favorite comedian. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard everything he has ever recorded (and own most of them on vinyl, tape, or CD…and in some cases, all three), I’ve seen 10 of his 12 HBO specials, caught him live in concert twice, and am now starting to read his books even though I know a lot of the material in them I can recite from memory as I read.

There’s another connection here for me, too, and that’s with my dad. I have my love of vinyl records because of my dad; when I was young we’d listen to his collection all the time. Dad has three of Carlin’s earliest albums on vinyl: Take-Offs and Put-Ons, Class Clown, and An Evening With Wally Londo Featuring Bill Slazso. I remember very clearly only being allowed to listen to the first album for the longest time, because it was the only one my parents thought a 10 year old kid should listen to (i.e., no bad words). Then they relented a little and let me listen to side one of Class Clown; I couldn’t listen to side two because it contained “Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television.” But when I got a little older and started being left home alone, one of the first things I would do once I was sure my parents were really gone was pull out the Carlin records. I repaid my dad by taking him to see Carlin in concert at the Fox Theater in St. Louis several years ago; it was my second show but his first, after all those years of being a fan. When Carlin died, we talked about it on the phone like it was a favorite uncle or good family friend we had lost. I guess sadness upon knowing you’ve heard the last from a favorite, even though you never met that person, is universal—and probably one of those things Carlin would explore on stage.

So here’s to George Carlin: comedy pioneer and entertainment icon. I could probably post 100 links and videos to some of my favorite Carlin routines spanning his 40+ years in show business, but I think I’ll stick with a quickie from the old days that actually fits in with the spirit of this blog: the original (and incomplete, according to his website) version of “Baseball and Football” from the 1975 album An Evening With Wally Londo Featuring Bill Slaszo.

And, in case you’re wondering, this is one of only a couple of tracks from the album that is safe to listen to at work.

 

 

–Chris

Goodbye, Mama Lucy

The loudest, most passionate voice in the Left Field Bleachers of Busch Stadium went quiet forever when Lucille Elson, better known to Cardinal Nation as Mama Lucy, passed away last night after a long battle with cancer.

To those that knew her well, Mama Lucy was a fun-loving and passionate friend with a no-nonsense personality and a welcoming smile. To anyone within earshot of Section 593, she was one of the most boisterous, passionate, and recognizable figures in the stands at St. Louis Cardinals home games.

Mama Lucy attended games armed with drinks and snacks, t-shirts she made that sported her “Left Field Bleacher Rules,” a scorecard, and a small radio headset for listening to the broadcast. Part of her time was spent shaking hands and chatting with passersby who knew or at least recognized her and part of her time was spent sharing the t-shirts with anyone who wanted one. But most of her time was spent riveted by the game in front of her, and her fan participation was equaled by no other.

Every time a Cardinals player came up to bat, Mama Lucy had an encouraging yell for him. And I’m talking a yell. The first time I heard it, I almost couldn’t believe this woman–or any human being–was capable of projecting the way she did. We were brand new season ticket holders and sat in the row behind Lucy, just a seat or two away. The reactions of the surrounding fans were mixed: some looked annoyed, some yelled along with her, most gave a little cheer or a smile. But everyone knew this was what Mama Lucy did. It had become part of the game experience. If a Cards’ hitter fouled off a two-strike pitch, she would chant (mimicking the BeeGee’s classic) “AH AH AH AH STAYIN’ ALIVE! STAYIN’ ALIVE!” and add an encouraging line at the end of the chorus based on the situation on the field (“TWO RBI’S! C’MON, ALBERT!”). When the visiting team got a runner on first, she willed the Cardinals into turning a double play: “SIX-FOUR-THREE! FOUR-SIX-THREE! FIVE-FOUR-THREE!” This went on for the entire game, but it wasn’t off-putting in any way. Mama Lucy made the Left Field Bleachers special. 

And it wasn’t just the game experience that endeared Mama Lucy to the bleacher creatures at Busch Stadium. Every winter, she would invite a large group of the friends she acquired through Cardinals games to her home for an offseason catch-up session complete with a feast and various Cards videos playing in the background. It was like a Baseball Thanksgiving in February.

I became a season ticket holder at Busch in 2008 because I love baseball and I thought it would be the easiest way to obtain a seat for the 2009 All Star Game. I stayed a season ticket holder because of people like Mama Lucy. She became part of my summer family–frankly, I saw these people as often as I see my parents (who live two blocks away)–and because of that, I couldn’t imagine sitting anywhere else for more than a game or two. Mama Lucy touched the lives of many in numerous ways, but none more visible than out in the Left Field Bleachers. She was a friend and is already missed. 

Mama Lucy, front and center with some of her LF Bleacher Family

 

Here are a few links I was able to dig up:

Mama Lucy got a mention in an article on the Cardinals’ website back in 2002.

The St. Louis Post-Dispatch posted two pictures of Mama Lucy at the 2009 All Star Game.

P-D columnist and sports radio host Bernie Miklasz offered Mama Lucy get well wishes earlier this year.

–Chris

Remembering Jack Buck

On this date in 2002, the Cardinals’ Hall of Fame announcer Jack Buck passed away. Buck’s work was nationally known…he called World Series, Super Bowls, and Monday Night Football games for network broadcasts. But in St. Louis and to Cardinals fans everywhere, he was both an icon and a friendly voice that was as much a part of baseball as the players on the field.

Buck started calling games for the Cardinals in 1954 alongside another radio booth icon, Harry Caray. By the 1970’s Caray had moved on and Buck was the Voice of the Cardinals.

Because of the enormous reach of KMOX, the Cardinals’ former radio home, millions listened to Jack Buck and Mike Shannon describe Cardinals games for nearly 30 years. Buck is credited with some of the most memorable calls in history. Many across the country will remember him from the 1991 and 1988 World Series; Cardinal fans know that the magic of Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Bruce Sutter, Ozzie Smith, and Willie McGee was that much sweeter when described by Jack Buck. Take a look at this video for a sample.

Buck’s final broadcast season was 2001. After 9/11, all professional sports took a brief and necessary hiatus as the country grived. But we needed something to rally around, and baseball helped bring us back just a little. In St. Louis, Jack Buck read a poem he wrote before the Cardinals’ first post-9/11 game. Buck, a WWII hero and purple heart recipient, delivered what would prove to be his last great call to the Busch Stadium crowd.

Thanks, Jack. We’ll never forget you. 

The death of Nick Adenhart of the LA Angels

Los Angeles Angels’ pitcher Nick Adenhart was involved in a car accident after last night’s game against the Oakland A’s and died today. He was 22. The official statement from the Angels can be found here.

As a Cardinal fan, I can’t help but be reminded of Darryl Kile and Josh Hancock. While most of us don’t get to know these players personally, we do, in some sense, establish a bond with the teams and the players based on mutual admiration and respect. The only thing I can say right now is I feel for the Angels and their fans. It will be hard, but take solace in the game. I’m sure Adenhart would have wanted it that way.