THE BONE OF CONTENTION
By Micah Honees
Generally this space is afforded a nice little outlet for some good-natured and nasty award-giving for either the crappiest or best guests of the week that was in "Late Night". This week is an exception, however. This column is to celebrate the life of someone we all think we knew; or at least, the character he portrayed that we all knew very well.
If you have seen the shows from this past week or if you've checked the Conan O'Brien newsgroup, you all know that one of our favorite sons, William Preston, passed away on Friday, July 10. To his family, William Preston was probably a good father, a favorite uncle, and perhaps someone's grandfather. To us, the Late Night faithful, William Preston was known by another name: Carl "Oldy" Olson, recurring character without peer.
I'm sure a lot of you out there came to become devoted Conanites like I did: you watched some of the first season's shows to see just who the hell the guy replacing Letterman was. That's how I did it, of course. A year or so later, fighting fits of insomnia, you stumbled across the show again because, for whatever reason, you just couldn't sleep. You were probably struck by the bizarre nature the show had taken--it was less stiff than you remembered. None of your friends watched and you felt like this new Late Night was a great present to keep to yourself. Why spoil it, right?
One of the reasons for the turnaround-save more comfort in the job from the host and what probably amounted to better writing-was the strange array of regular characters that had recurring roles on the show; the Grand Poobah of which was a sprightly and frighteningly-thin bearded old man who was so unintelligible that the producers actually had to ask the chyron operators to add a transcript of his lines to the bottom of your television screen in a space generally reserved for weather warnings and breaking news. What the heck was that about?
The first time I can recall seeing Carl "Oldy" Olson I thought "Who the hell is that?!" What's more, I didn't think he was funny; not even a little bit. I groaned when he was on. But you know what? I came to love the Oldy character. And I'm still not entirely sure as to why.
Linzi was the first to tell me that William had died. I made a point of staying up to check out what kind of send-off Conan, Andy, and crew would have for Oldy Olson-and I was not disappointed. Conan simply went on his television program and offered his condolences to William's family. He said a bit about the man and spoke reverentially about some of the other projects William had been featured in. Then he offered a few clips in tribute to William Preston as he had appeared on Late Night. The segment was respectful and very classy. What's more is that it was well-done and heart-felt. Conan and everyone involved with the show should be commended for the dignity they gave the man in passing with his words, while letting his work stand on it's own merits.
Why did we laugh at the character of Carl "Oldy" Olson? Because he was strange. He was underweight and frail-looking; something he allowed to be exploited for laughs. Whether he was singing classic rock songs from the seventies by Kansas and Mountain or he was picking up strippers and getting all the women, he was funny because the character was written to the exact opposite of someone who looked (and was as old) as William Preston did. It was shock value; a guy who appeared to be as old as he is heavy (somewhere in the hundreds, I assume) doing things like playing baseball or singing with Sting that just didn't fit the profile.
To me, the character of Carl "Oldy" Olson became funny because there was no rhyme or reason to it. It was "out there" and while I was slow to come to it, the man William Preston brought me to it. He was charming and strange and at times you wondered if he really knew he was setting himself up as the butt of jokes. But now that he has left us, let's tip one to the memory of William Preston-and let's go pick up prostitutes or become randy Puritans to the memory of Carl "Oldy" Olson. He'd've wanted it that way. Rest in peace.