Practical MIDI

Today, Sunday, June 22, 2008 I lost a friend. Not just in the sense of feeling like I knew him because of having seen him on television and in the movies, but because I actually knew the man. George Carlin died today at age 71 and left behind a legacy that will be with me until that day that I leave this world.

A few columns ago I wrote of my connection to this comic genius. You can read that column at this link: http://cybermidi.com/news/index.php/practical-midi/from-cassette-to-cd-to-midi-via-george-c

I have been a George Carlin fan since 1971 when I first became aware of his unique sense of humor, which I feel parallels my own offbeat, warped sense of humor. I clicked immediately with him and owe a lot of my writing style to the man. I bought every album he ever recorded and had most of his bits memorized. When I met my wife, I impressed her by doing some of Carlin’s material. Since she was not familiar with him, she assumed that I was just one clever fellow and that she realized she liked being around me. It wasn’t until after we were married that I confessed to not being as clever or as original as she may have thought. I told her I was just doing Carlin. After that she became a Carlin fan, too.

She was with me that first night that I got to meet Carlin backstage, but let me go back just a little and explain how this all came about. From the first time I heard his “Indian Sergeant” routine I knew that one day I’d like to meet him and tell him how much joy he brought into my life with his comedy. Then after I wrote all those songs to go with his titles (see the Practical Midi column for the background) I had the perfect opening to try to get to meet him. It took me nearly six years of writing to him and trying to make contact, but after several of my letters came back undeliverable I figured I’d take one last shot at it and I wrote to him through his latest record label. Even that took a while since he was on a concert tour and didn’t get my letter for several months.

I’d all but forgotten about my attempts to reach him when the call came. He called my house and we chatted like old friends. His curiosity must have piqued when he read my letter about the songs I’d written, because he told me he’d be performing at the P.A.C. in Milwaukee, just 50 miles from my house. He said he’d leave two tickets in my name at the box office and then invited me to come backstage afterwards and “just say hi.” I did and when I met him I presented him with my cassette album of comedy songs based on his titles. He looked at the cassette title, “Apprentice Foole” and got it right away. His third album was called, “Occupation: Foole.” I told him I considered myself to be his apprentice and he laughed and shook my hand.

I went home that night feeling like a million bucks. I’d set myself a goal to meet the man and I’d accomplished it. Now I had his albums and he had mine. Who else could say that? I met him one more time after that and again I was allowed backstage to talk with him. This was the night I had my picture taken with him and that’s the picture you see in the Cybermidi column.

Gonna miss you, buddy.

©2008 Bill Bernico for CYBERMIDI.com
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