Of all that I keep remembering, no moment was sweeter than the night that Elizabeth Taylor turned Johnny into her straight man.
On the show that night, Johnny and Elizabeth were discussing astrology.
“What’s your sign?” he asked her.
“I’m a Pisces,” Elizabeth replied.
“I married a Pisces,” he said.
“I’m sure you did,” said she.
When Johnny stopped laughing, he asked, “Any new project you want to talk about?”
“No, an old project,” Elizabeth said. “You. I just want to thank you for so many years of marvelous entertainment.”
Well, Johnny, that’s it. Too soon. For you, many years too soon. It’s just not fair. Of course, as you once said, “If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead.”
You think little Gordon would like this book? I would trade him and every other reader for—“Two grown men. Graduates of major universities.”
I wish you could be playing the drums behind me now, as you did at Jilly’s and Danny’s and Sneaky Pete’s, while I sing this one last song.
Thanks for the memories
Of thirty years of gags,
Of funny bits
The team that put The Tonight Show together for many years was Doc Severinsen, Johnny, myself, and, in the back, our director, Bobby Quinn, and producer, Fred de Cordova.
(Well, some the pits)
Like ties turned into rags
How mellow we were.
Thanks for the memories
Of flying high with you,
While down our legs
Ran uncooked eggs.
Two grown men full of goo;
How yellow we were.
Thanks for the memories.
Banana number two
Loved everything
That you would wing When headed for deep doo.
Cool fellow you were.
Thanks for the memories.
Aunt Blabby and the rest.
And Carol Wayne
With outline plain;
Her top was your hope chest.
Like Jell-O they were.
Never were we ever parted,
Until you left me brokenhearted.
What golden years!
Four thousand “Heeeeere’s”
So thanks for the memories.
It all was one sweet dream.
So much applause
For one whose drawers
Once filled up with whipped cream.
Thanks for the memories.
Remember Tiny Tim?
When he was wed,
I think you said,
“The gown should be on him.”
Thanks for the memories
Of wine and roses days.
Well, roses no.
The other, though,
Became our Linden phase.
Thanks for the memories.
You always were the best.
You were the star
Who packed my car
With clues for my arrest.
Thanks for the memories.
Our days were one long lark.
So many games,
Some bright with flames;
I felt like Joan of Arc.
Yes, thanks for the memories
Of all those comic scats.
You brought me in,
I could have been
Out selling food for cats.
We showed ourselves
To be two elves.
No, overage rug rats.
Hi-yooo, my dear friend!
