Tuesday, January 12, 2010

In Conan we trust

I don’t normally use this blog as a forum to talk about deeply personal matters (aside from my love of snacks), but I want to take a moment here to address the programming debacle at NBC. As I’m sure you’ve already heard NBC is trying to give Conan O’Brien the shaft, yet again, by moving Jay Leno’s “variety show” to 11:35 and bumping Conan and The Tonight Show to 12:05. Conan has decided to take the high road, and crafted a beautiful statement expressing his unwillingness to be part of a plan that would move The Tonight Show out of the timeslot it has held for almost 60 years. Conan cares about tradition, and he would rather go elsewhere than participate in this harebrained scheme that’s destined to destroy the legendary show he has dreamed of hosting his entire life. I, and everyone I know, support Conan to the fullest and will follow him wherever he ends up. Why? Because in a not-so-roundabout way he has helped shape our collective sense of humor for much of the past 20 years.

During Conan’s first few seasons (aka The Awkward Years) hosting Late Night, my high school buddies and I would tape every episode on VHS cassette. Then on the weekends we’d get together and watch the standout moments while drinking ungodly amounts of soda pop. A couple of us even used our favorite “In the Year 2000” bits as senior quotes in the yearbook. Mine of course was delivered by Andy: “In the year 2000, the artist formerly known as Prince will no longer be referred to by a symbol, but rather… an odor.” I still find it funny to this day.

When I went off to college at Ohio University, Conan’s ratings in our dorm must have been through the roof. If only NBC had a way to measure such things. I can’t count the number of times I heard my buddy Brian Woznicki cackling in the room next door around 12:45 am. I’m almost certain most of those outbursts had something to do with Conan’s opening sketch.

This brings me back to the idea that our own senses of humor have been molded in some way by Conan. For me and my closest friends, we grew up with Conan. His unique brand of humor was right there in front of us during a very important period in our lives. We were in college, on our own, honing the wildly creative side of our brains, and loving every minute of it.

From the beginning, Conan, Andy, and their brilliant staff of writers always pushed the envelope, night after night finding new ways to make us laugh. Did they ever let up? Did they ever settle for the same old same old? No. Just look at Conan’s first week hosting The Tonight Show. Sure there were a few wrinkles to iron out, but the laughs were there right off the bat, and no one can accuse these guys of being anything other than original. Compare Conan’s show to any other talk show and you’ll see what I mean. These guys try harder, and they care more.

You know, not everyone in the world attempts to be funny all the time (and that’s a good thing), but Conan does. And for clowns like Brian and I, and many of our friends, it’s kind of what we do too. We probably fail more than we succeed, and I’m sure we can be annoying, but at this point it’s just the way we are. Did Conan have something to do with this? Of course. He’s the funniest guy we know, even if we only know him through a television set. Hold strong Conan. We’ll be watching.

2 comments:

Brian Woz said...

I believe there is a little masturbating bear inside us all.

AaronS said...

I could have said almost exactly the same thing, myself, about my college days with Conan (about '96-'99). Conan was a near-nightly ritual for myself and my roommate, often times leaving both of us literally rolling on the floor with laughter between homework breaks. Pretty much everyone I knew watched it and quoted it regularly. Few things have influenced my personal sense of humor more.
I feel I should share this:
My favorite Conan moment ever must be New Years Eve, either 1998 or 99, in Columbus Ohio. My college roommate Andrew, my girlfriend, and I went to the capitol building for the city's new years celebration. But that wasn't the main event for us. As soon as the clock struck 12 and everyone cheered, hugged, and kissed - we raced back to Andrew's car and booked it home to his parents' house just in time to catch Conan O'Brien's Central Time Zone New Years Celebration (one hour later than our own). We still reminisce about it. The "celebration" somehow ended with Conan's correspondent in Indiana in his underwear, smearing potatoes au gratin on his bare chest, and being horribly beaten by the police as the clock struck 12 (Central). Conan and Andy looked on in horror via satellite as confetti was released on their set in NYC. Genius.
I can't tell you what I even did most New Years, but somehow Conan and Andy made one of the most memorable New Years ever, vicariously, on a TV show.
Yes, Conan, I will follow you wherever you go.