Dave

There's this friend of mine who's a writer and also writes a blog. Well, sometimes he writes a blog. A lot of the time he just captions pictures. But he's putting it out there and often the captions are quite funny. It all counts - at least he's making the effort.

Which, if you read this blog on a regular basis, know that's something I rarely do.

Anyway, like many other blogs including this one, he posted about David Letterman today. Here's one of the things he said about Dave when he left Late Night at NBC: "But then the real Dave moved to CBS, and the middle of the road with his humor and he lost a step. And he lost me."

I'd agree with him, except then we'd both be wrong.

I don't believe he lost a step. I think it's clear he found his footing. I'm sorry he lost you pal, because that means you missed some of the best, most subversive and defiant comedy ever put on network television.

Dave's master plan was always to bring his brand of innovation, lunacy and comedy to a wider audience. That audience's address was 11:30. After he was wrongfully denied the Tonight Show (and by the way, if you're calling anyone's humor middle-of-the-road you might want to start with Jay Leno), executive Howard Stringer at CBS gave Dave the platform and freedom to do his show his way.

A lot of it meant bringing over staples from the NBC show (Top Ten List, Stupid Pet Tricks, Stupid Human Tricks, Jack Hanna). But since NBC claimed the intellectual property rights and threatened to sue - which turned out to be an empty threat - Dave was forced to do something he would've done anyway: continually stretch the boundaries of what a talk show could be.

I'd argue he did more innovations to the format and pushed the boundaries - sometimes to the breaking point - more in the CBS years than ever before that.

The beauty of it was that unlike the boot-licking, let's not offend anyone host Leno became, Dave was always Dave. If he didn't like a guest, we knew it. And if he loved a guest (I'm looking at you Julia Roberts), we knew that too.

On a personal note, when Paris Hilton appeared on the show just after her release from prison, Dave made a point of repeatedly asking about her ordeal. I don't think she'd been that uncomfortable since someone accidentally called her smart in the fifth grade. It's some of the finest eight minutes ever aired. You can see it here.

Yes, Dave went from sports coats and sneakers to suits and leather shoes (still with white socks though). If you're going to live at 11:30 you have to dress for the occasion. It wasn't just college kids and stoners watching anymore. It was the world.

Jay Leno built a career out of copying bits, routines and ideas Letterman had years before. Maybe that's why there is no Jay Leno legacy, aside from mediocre political jokes. There were no tributes. There was no emotional investment in Jay Leno. He didn't influence a generation of performers in the way Dave did. Once he was gone, he was forgotten.

Something no one will ever be able to say about Dave.

Things I was wrong about: Remote control

So here it is - the second in my series of Things I Was Wrong About. By the way, if you missed the first and feel the need to catch up - and frankly, who could blame you - you'll find it here.

I'm kind of partial to this series more than some of the others I do (Guilty Pleasures, Don't Ask, Things I Don't Need To Know), because, as my wife, children, close friends, banker, work colleagues, doctor and complete strangers on the street keep reminding me, I'll never run out of topics to talk about.

The one I'm talking about today is an American cultural icon, companion of couch potatoes worldwide and best friend of the AA battery industry. The remote control.

I remember the first remote control TV my parents bought. It also happened to be the first color TV we owned. It was an RCA console television, and looked similar to this one, minus the statue collection of the mixed fox/bull terrier Nipper that was the RCA mascot for years (Impressive I know that, yes? My mind is a crowded place).

Besides being able to finally see the NBC "in living color" peacock in living color for the first time, now we didn't have to get up to change from one of the seven - count 'em seven - channels to the other (3 network, 4 local).

The remote controls then weren't the streamlined, digitally programed, colorful, button-laiden devices they are today. The were like little bricks, usually offering only four buttons: volume up and down, and channel up and down.

Still, not having to get up to change the channel was a revelation. It gave me the perfect excuse get even less physical activity than I was already getting. I know you wouldn't think it to look at me now, but I was a fat little kid (you know I can hear you laughing, right?). And this new, magical device wasn't going to help that.

As the years have gone by, we've been able to control more and more things by remote. Lights to drapes. Thermostats to DVRs. Cameras to ovens. Today, with the power we hold in our hands, there's virtually no reason to get off the couch to do anything. Except get the potato chips.

Even as I write this, it seems hard to believe there was a point in time where I thought, "How lazy do you have to be that you can't get your fat ass up and walk four or five feet to the TV and change the channel?" But that was before molded-to-your-hand grip remote controls. And Netflix.

So on the long, long list of things I was wrong about, let me add the modern day convenience I could now never live without. The remote control.

I think that just about wraps up this post. CLICK! Power off.