Is there anything more redolent of the 20th century monoculture than a fascination with the inner life of Johnny Carson?
The hold Carson had on the nation’s attention in the late-night hours, most weeknights for 30 years, is difficult now to imagine. Tonight’s late-night hosts only pull a fraction of his numbers, even while following a formula he set in stone. The band, the announcer, the monologue, the desk, the couch, the skits. The formula still works, but the world has changed. No one will ever again be the default, as Carson was.
“Default” is not a very exciting way to describe a show-business professional, but the marvel of Carson was that he never wore out his welcome. The host had a sure sense of his skills and his limitations, including knowing exactly when to bow out. He said the May 22, 1992 episode would be his last, and it was. He went out on top, living out his 13 remaining years enjoying private pursuits like yachting and learning Swahili.
Carson became such a legend that it took a legend to write his biography.