Yes, he provided us with generations of laughter. The stumbling, mumbling, stuttering delivery, accompanied by a look of bewilderment, that never failed to produce everything from a chuckle to a hearty belly laugh. Bob Newhart, who died recently at 94, gave us not just decades but generations of amusement.
Bob Newhart’s television career often makes us forget that he started as a highly successful stand-up comic, with a number of now iconic routines, like “The Driving Instructor”. I first remember seeing him on the Tonight Show, doing one of the first of a long line of routines that made him well-known. He was a small-town resident, for whom the community raised money to send him to an amateur television talent show, performing the Twelve Days of Christmas. In typical Newhart fashion, he mumbles his way through about the first four, then stutters to something like “six maids a leaping”, stops and starts, falls apart completely and concludes with, “oh, damn it.” Johnny Carson nearly fell out of his chair, convulsed in laughing. Bob spoke about coming upon what became part of his routine. He’d be announced on stage, at which point the curtains would open and an elevator would ascend – half way up, leaving him in view only from the waist up and having to unceremoniously climb out onto the stage.
My wife and I had the privilege of seeing him in person many years ago. He performed a number of his classic routines – Abraham Lincoln’s PR person coaching him through the Gettysburg Address, and another of my favorites. It was a phone conversation, like many of his classics, perhaps where he was at his best. In this conversation, he’s the caterer to the Last Supper. Lines like, “There will be 12 of you – so, three tables of four? No, one long table, everyone on the same side? Oh, it’ll look good for the painting,” An evening of magic to rival any I’ve ever spent.
My generation knew him first as Dr. Robert Hartley, Psychologist. The greatness of that show was that he used his deadpan delivery surrounded by absolutely bizarre ensemble cast of characters. We remember Mr. Carlin, and Bob’s therapy group. His daffy neighbor, Howard Borden. One of my favorite episodes was the one in which his wife, Emily, leaves town for the holidays. Bob stays home, and in company several friends, rather tipsy, are ordering Chinese food. “Moo goo gai pan” in particular comes out in a hilarious string of variations as he becomes progressively more impaired. In his second show, Bob is writer and Vermont innkeeper Dick Loudon. This is the show that introduced us to, and will be forever remembered for, “I’m Larry, and this is my brother, Darryl, and this is my other brother, Darryl.” Later generations will, of course, know him has Professor Proton, Sheldon Cooper’s childhood idol and inspiration on “Big Bang Theory”.
Bob Newhart introduced us to “situational” humor, that which could point out the absurdity of so many of life’s awkward, uncomfortable events. He managed to make the awkward even more so. The well-placed stammer with a look of utter confusion. Surprisingly, he almost never laughed at his own material. And he was one of the few, like the late Jack Benny, that could simply stand and stare, and it was hilarious. Bob’s wife, Virginia, appeared occasionally in his material, but not often. In one notable routine, Bob related that, getting up one morning, his Virginia was glaring at him unrelentingly. As he told it, he asked her what was wrong. She responded that, “In my dream, you were ogling an attractive young woman. I’m angry with you.” In his defense, he told her, “So, you are mad at me for something that I did in your dream.” To which she answered, again with an edge, “Yes, but it’s just the sort of thing you’d do.”
The Newharts were close friends of Don Rickles and his wife, Barbara. That puzzled a great many people in entertainment, as Bob and Don had such vastly different styles of performing. They also travelled together quite a bit too, and Bob often told the story of Don getting a new video camera to take along on one of their trips. Apparently, Don hadn’t quite got the hang of operating it, or even aiming it. As Bob told the story, they sat down to watch their travels only to find that they had hours and hours of – their feet and the sidewalk. He apparently never let Rickles forget it.
The veterans that we’ve revered for years are sadly leaving us. Norman Lear, Carl Reiner, Betty White. CBS paid tribute to Mr. Newhart a few weeks back with a prime time special, which is no less than he truly deserves. His television was part of what many of us consider the “golden age” of television comedy. “All in the Family” led into “Mary Tyler Moore” and the “Bob Newhart Show”. Different yet all groundbreaking, classic television. Bob Newhart was part of an elite group of comics whose material never made us blush. Like Jerry Seinfeld and Ray Romano. You never needed to worry about what will come out next. Many of today’s leading comedians are described as “edgy” – and that often means their content and their language can make us laugh and cringe at the same time.
Bob, you gave us years of gentle, self-effacing humor that give rise to warm smiles and a lifetime of funny taglines and happy memories. A career dedicated to lightening our mood may not seem in league with first responders or medical research, but trust me, it is vital to helping us keep our mental stability and maintaining perspective. And you gave us that for decades. We’re deeply grateful, and, wherever you are, thank you.
I'm Thinking...No! 