Air Force, the perennial nonconformist never fit in.
After working a fairly strait-laced comedy act and even wearing suit coats—but in his own estimation, not doing much more than shuffling along and keeping the bill collectors at bay—George took stock of his surroundings in his early thirties. It dawned on him that his friends, especially the ultra-successful ones in the music business such as Bob Dylan and Buffalo Springfield, had transitioned their dress and every facet of their being to express themselves politically and socially. This insight emboldened George to stop doing shtick, change his image to grungy jeans, shaggy beard and ponytail, and begin verbalizing a uniquely fearless attitude which became more authentic to audiences and more comfortable for himself. Whereas before he was saying funny things and “people-pleasing,” his new persona of a disappointed yet idealistic antiauthoritarian who smartly criticized every aspect of our culture resonated sharply with the nation’s cynical post-Vietnam mood. And his career soared.
George became a counterculture touchstone; he hosted the very first episode of
Saturday Night Live
, appeared on
The Tonight Show
130 times, and put out a couple dozen albums—plus three best-selling books—while constantly touring. During the 1970s, when his wild comedic style accelerated and then permeated his offstage lifestyle, his drug use became excessive to the point of initiating a heart condition. By the ’80s George hadevolved into more of a curmudgeonly uncle whose humor was observational and in the next decade he tacked to the political side. Later, he grew increasingly dark. “I sort of gave up on this whole human adventure a long time ago,” he said. “I think the human race has squandered its gift, and I think this country has squandered its promise. I think people in America sold out very cheaply, for sneakers and cheeseburgers. And I don’t think it’s fixable.”
Nonetheless, his humor could never be categorized as a bummer and he proved that no subject was off-limits for insightful comedy. George Carlin legitimized the medium of humor for every social and intellectual tier, and when he passed of heart disease at 71, all of America noticed.
George was cremated and his ashes entrusted to his daughter.
WILT CHAMBERLAIN
AUGUST 21, 1936 – OCTOBER 12, 1999
The 7-foot-1 Wilt Chamberlain so dominated the game of basketball that, in direct response to his abilities, the NBA changed some of its rules in order to give everyone else a fighting chance. The lane under the basket was widened, the offensive-goaltending rule was implemented, and regulations regarding inbounding and free throws were revised. Though the changes served their purpose to some degree, Wilt “the Stilt” continued to be a heavy presence. By the time of his 1973 retirement, he’d set a number of records, two of which will probably never be broken. First, Wilt never once fouled out through 1,205 games. Second, in 1962 he scored an astonishing 100 points in a single game.
In 1991 it came out that Wilt also held one other pseudo-record, though it was somewhat nefarious and hard to verify. In his autobiography,
A View from Above
, the lifelong bachelor devoted an entire chapter to sex and there made the revelation that, if he had to count his sexual encounters, he’d be closing in on 20,000 women. “Yes, that’s correct, twenty thousand different ladies,” he wrote. “At my age, that equals out to having sex with 1.2 women a day, every day since I was fifteen years old.” Some fans recoiled at Wilt’s macho accounting and roundly criticized him, while others contemplated that, even if he was exaggerating by a factor of ten…
At 63, Wilt died of congestive heart failure. He was cremated and his were ashes entrusted to his family.
DICK CLARK
NOVEMBER 30, 1929 – APRIL 18, 2012
With the boyish good looks of a junior executive and a ubiquitous on-camera presence, Dick Clark was among