George Carlin To Be Blown Up, Per His Wishes?

George Carlin died on my birthday, yesterday, at the age of 71.

He did so less than a week after his final performance in Vegas, in a hospital bed in Los Angeles, of heart failure. His wife Brenda passed 11 years ago, the day before his 60th birthday, and his routines were never the same after she died.

No one ever managed to shine a brighter light on what he liked to call "the bullshit", and like him or not, you can't argue that he picked up the ball when Lenny Bruce fumbled it, and edgy comedy really has no successor equal to the task.

He was one of my entertainment heroes and influences, even when I thought he went too far. The last two times I saw him, it was sad to see how bitter he'd become. Geroge was something my father and I always had in common: I remember a long road trip we took together, listening to tape after tape from my collection, laughing our asses off at routines we'd already heard a hundred times before.

From radio, to stand-up, to TV appearances, to albums, to movies (remember With Six You Get Eggroll?), to his own really bad sitcom, to more movies and status as a counter-culture legend...the world is a lot less funny today.