Repressing your inner ingrate
Rob Long
If you have no idea who Arte Johnson was — he died in 2019 — congratulations on being a young person. Enjoy it while you can. If you’re old enough to know who Johnson was, you’re probably already forgetting things, so here’s a reminder: Arte Johnson was a comic actor best known for his work on the comedy-variety hit, Laugh-In, which ran on NBC from 1968 to 1973. His most famous character was a German soldier from World War II who was unaware that the war was over. It was funny at the time, but from the slightly more elevated perch of 2023, I can see how it might give off creepy vibes. But that’s not what this story is about.
The story goes like this, and while it’s almost certainly false, it illustrates an important point: One day, one of the hosts of Laugh-In was buying a new suit at a hip menswear store in Sherman Oaks, California, when he met Johnson, who was working there as a tailor. As Johnson measured the television star with his tailor’s tape, he took his shot. As he worked, he did his trademark funny voices and comic patter, which was so entertaining that the host of Laugh-In offered him a job on the spot.
PAT SAJAK, TRENDING FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS
So the onetime tailor joined the cast of the most popular show on television and went from nobody to Hey! It’s that guy from that show! in about two weeks.
The proximity of “Arte Johnson, Guy who Measures Inseams” to “Arte Johnson, Guy on Hit TV Show” should have made him happy and grateful, and not a jerk. But it did the opposite. By week three, he was complaining about the scripts. By week four, he was terrorizing the crew. By week five, he could barely remember a time when he showed up to work with a tape measure around his neck and a professionally meek expression.
I told you that story so I could tell you this one: I am currently aboard a fancy yacht in the South of France, a guest of an old friend who has been very successful in his life and who shares generous experiences with his friends. My old friend is a wise and thoughtful person whose hard work and entrepreneurial genius allow him to afford breathtaking luxuries and to gather people around him in a spirit of warmth and friendship. And he has never once forgotten his roots, his hardworking parents, or the benefits of living in a great and inspiring country. He is the anti-Arte Johnson, in other words. Pure gratitude.
On the other hand, one of his guests — OK, me — is in no position to host extravagant yacht trips and whose familiarity with terms such as “hard work” and “sound business sense” is tenuous at best. I am very lucky to be included, to be the friend of such a generous and successful man.
And mostly, I remember that. Except for this morning. I got up early to sit on the shady deck (there are three) on one of the deeply cushioned chairs (there are six) to watch the picture-perfect town of Portofino come to life, and it occurred to me that it was time for my morning coffee and croissant. Actually, come to think of it, a little past time? “It’s 8 o’clock,” I said aloud in a peeved and irritated tone of voice. “Shouldn’t the coffee and croissants be out by now?”
Luckily, no one was around to hear me. But I heard me. I heard me loud and clear. I had slipped into Arte Johnson territory, and I sat quietly for a moment and reeled myself in. I am lucky to be here, I told myself, lucky to have friends and a summer to enjoy and salt water and the blue sky. Don’t forget that you’re a guest, I said aloud.
But in a way, we’re all guests, right? We all should be sending thank-you notes to God every morning, right after we have our coffee and you-know-what. Which arrived moments later. That’s how gratitude works.
CLICK HERE TO READ MORE FROM THE WASHINGTON EXAMINER
Rob Long is a television writer and producer, including as a screenwriter and executive producer on Cheers, and he is the co-founder of Ricochet.com.