Highlights
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Middle America had fallen in love with George Carlin, just in time for him to have fallen out of love with them.
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“People are wonderful. I love individuals. I hate groups of people. I hate a group of people with a ‘common purpose’ ’cause pretty soon they have little hats. And armbands. And fight songs. And a list of people they’re going to visit at 3:00 A.M. So I dislike and despise groups of people, but I love individuals. Every person you look at, you can see the universe in their eyes, if you’re really looking.”
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Death. How real, and yet, how unreal this visitor was. The experience forced me into two worlds at once. Nothing was conveniently black-and-white any longer. Normally the light of life was in the here and now, while the shadow of death was over there, somewhere far, far away. But now they had converged and life was gray. In this gray I fought to keep my mother alive for another day with chemotherapy and morphine.
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“No, no, no!” I collapsed against a wall. I thought, This is not happening. This is happening to someone else. My mother is not dead. No, she is not dying. This is not how it’s supposed to happen. This happens much differently; it’s quiet, serene. We’re all holding hands, Enya is playing, peace, love.… No. Not this. Not now. Not today.
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It was like a superhuman force of energy moved through him and propelled him into his first bit, “A Modern Man.” His verbal gymnastics, leaps of logic, and rap-star pacing blew every person in that audience away. He gave the tour-de-force performance of his life during those three and a half minutes. And as I watched this, all I could think was: If he could just stay on that stage, he just might live forever.