George Carlin's 'art' was hardly 'routine...'

When I heard Monday morning that George Carlin died, not only was I saddened like so many other people, but I was suddenly 13 again. My mind immediately drifted to the summer of 1988 and I was tenting out with pals in the back yard.

We'd stay up late eating crunchy junk food, listening to ball games on the radio, talking about girls — you know, the kind of stuff 13-year-old boys do when confined to a zipped-up form of waterproof shelter made of canvas, plastic and metal poles. We also listened to comedy albums whenever we could get our hands on them.

When I was really young, we'd play Bill Cosby cassette tapes — that good, clean brand of humor that our parents wish was the only kind to which we were ever exposed.

Then I discovered George Carlin. More...

See also: George Carlin: I love people, I hate groups...

And this: Carlin denounces bullshit...