Jay Leno is getting a bum rap. He was atop the ratings when NBC announced his future replacement by Conan O’Brien. He was atop the ratings when the Tonight Show finally passed from his to Conan’s hands. The headcount for Jay’s primetime audience was roughly equal to what he had on Tonight and greater than that of either Conan or David Letterman in the post-news slot.
I was amazed at how many of Hollywood’s elite professed allegiance to Team Conan and expressed enmity toward Leno on the red carpet and at the podium at the Golden Globes. Jay did not create the current environment. NBC did. The cost to move O’Brien and his staff from California to New York must have been astronomical. The amount they are going to have to pay to extract themselves from the dilemma they created is staggering. As an aside, I must admit that it is impressive that Conan squeezed the suits for another 11 or 12 million for his staff, even though the network had already negotiated severance for them.
I’m not a Leno groupie by any stretch. It struck me as unfair when they picked him to succeed Johnny Carson, the real king of late night. Now I’ve read that Jay was a team player willing to go to the ends of the earth for affiliate relations and that NBC’s experience with Dave had been less than desirable in that regard. But still, Letterman had earned his spurs. As we have learned in the ensuing years, Carson thought that was a raw deal, too.
There have always been strong opinions about who should tuck America in at night. When in my youth Carson was chosen as the Tonight successor, there were many who said that no one could replace the great, sensitive, and eccentric raconteur, Jack Paar. I was one, and all of us had to eat our words somewhere along the course of the next 30 years. I remember the night that Paar was the sole guest on the Pat Sajak Show. Vanna’s buddy unabashedly admitted that Jack had been his idol throughout his career. On that night, Paar proved that he still had it. He basically took over the show and provided Sajak with one of his most enjoyable nights ever.
Like Paar though I did, Johnny won my heart years ago. He cemented his place there the night I was lucky enough to sit on the first row in Burbank and watch him work his magic in person. In addition to the king, all of the key players were there that night: Ed McMahon, Doc Severinsen, Freddy DeCordova (a piece of showbiz history unto himself), and Tommy Newsom. I give much of the credit for the enduring memory to John, but I must admit that Brooke Shields’ presence on the couch that night helps the recollection adhere to its assigned brain cell ever so much more securely.
When the shenanigans of today’s pretenders fail to keep me amused, I can always pull out my recordings of Johnny’s 25th Anniversary Show and his entire last week. They never fail to satisfy.
