Eighty-Four and The Greatness of Happenstance
I go because I want to be somewhere doing something. I really like trying new things. But more importantly at this time, I’m lugubrious and lonely and I feel hollow all the time. My heart seems to have perpetually taken on the shape of a wrenched gut, and I live with a hoarder.
Finding Carl Kasell
“Has anyone seen Carl?”
The question chilled the blood in my chest. Anne, Tyler and I were up on the third balcony, placing Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me! gift bags and Carl Kasell dolls on every one of the 1,850 seats in the Warner Theater. In three hours, every seat would be filled by fans looking to see and celebrate the final taping of the show with Carl as the Judge/Timekeeper.
Below, onstage, the cast and crew were running through a technical rehearsal — running jokes, testing microphones, adjusting lights.
And Carl was nowhere to be found.
She said, “You bring the poon, we’ll bring the doom.”
She was always down for trouble.
Always in some kind of it.
Kicked out of the restaurant for dancing topless on the table.
Fired for shaving her head in the Executive Bathroom.
Hunted by a loan shark with one eye for refusing to pay her debt.