It was approximately 10:20 pm Sunday night and I had just turned on my computer to check email. I saw a very small highlighted link that said that George Carlin had died, my heart sank. I clicked on the link and read the 2 paragraph article detailing (as much was available at the time) the passing of the comedy icon. Stunned, shocked and silent, I went to lie down on my bed. My head could not process the enormity of this matter. Eventually I nodded off for about 15 minutes. I got up and went back to my computer. In the back of my mind, I was hoping that somehow I had dreamt this. I had all but convinced myself that this was indeed the case. Reality set in with the simple movement of a mouse. It was true, it was the news that I was not ready to accept. George Carlin was gone. I was dumbfounded. It was like being a victim of a shark attack while swimming in the backyard above ground pool. What?! How?!, But I just saw him- What?! I went back to the bed and just stared at the ceiling. I told my wife that it was a very sad day. George Carlin has died. Her shock was just as incredulous.

I'm a comic. That's the common thread I share with George Carlin. Whenever he spoke of himself, he would say that he's a comic. It's such a simple breakdown for a man that was regarded as so much more. It's akin to Einstein saying that he was merely a carbon based life form. In the world of comedy, George Carlin is perched on top of the tallest peak of the highest mountain. There are only a handful of people whose capabilities were beyond the blueprints of the original concepts of their professions that they later had been credited with changing the perceptions of that profession. Off the top of my head, I can think of two; Wilt Chamberlain and George Denis Patrick Carlin.

Carlin changed comedy. Simply put, he changed comedy. Just imagine the magnitude of that task if you were to set out to do so. It's impossible. He did it without setting out to do so. He did it by being honest and true to himself. He writing was meticulous. His work ethic can only be described as tenacious. No one was more prepared for a performance than George Carlin.

December 18, 2007- I received an email from Richard Barrett from the Comedy and Magic club in response to the avails I had submitted earlier. The email states he is offering the following show: Wednesday night December 19- opening for George Carlin. I replied back accepting and thanking him for this "ridiculous" fantasy-like opportunity. When you start out in this business and you were to write down the names of people you'd like to work with, Carlin's name doesn't even come up. You might as well put down that you'd like to work with the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy because there's a better chance of that happening than working with an icon of George Carlin's status. The fact of the matter is I wasn't about to work with an icon of a George Carlin's status, I was about to work with THE George Carlin. I'm a comedian with 25 years of experience under my belt; I've seen a lot of things. I've studied this craft since I was 8 years old. I've been very blessed to accomplish a lot in this business. I've appeared on television. I've worked with some of the biggest names to ever step on a stand up stage, but nothing was like this. I called everyone I knew the night before and told them about the big show. I couldn't sleep that night. I'm a 42 year old man with 3 children and a successful stand up career and yet the night before working with George Carlin, I am unable to sleep, like a kid waiting for Christmas.

The email I received after my acceptance stated that Mr. Carlin would be using the green room prior to going on because he likes to be alone when prepping for a performance. I thought would I even get to meet him? Is he approachable? Is he one of those comics that don't even like comics?

I arrived at the club with my wife. As I was exiting my car and gathering my things to go in, I saw a car pull into the lot. I said to my wife, "It's him." He parked next to me and got out of his car. Richard and club owner Mike Lacey were there to greet him. They introduced me to him and we exchanged intro pleasantries. I entered the club and went to the "alternate green room" to prepare for the show. I would occasionally walk past the green room where Mr. Carlin was and saw that he had a few people in there speaking with him. I was surprised that the door was open. I would brush by quick enough to get a glimpse while not looking like a bothersome fan. My next pass I saw Bobby Collins in the room speaking with George alone. I stood at the doorway to say hello to Bobby and ask about an intro. Bobby went to introduce me to George and he told him that we had met earlier. A part of me, the part that had proper upbringing that listens to rules was telling me to get out of there as to not be a nuisance, but he was very welcoming. Within 2 minutes, it was just 3 comics sitting backstage hanging out waiting for a show to start. I don't think he was aware that THE George Carlin was in the room. He was just a dude hanging out. I don't remember what was said, I just remember it felt comfortable, it felt like any other pre show hang. This speaks volumes for the kind of man he was, considering who he was. A few minutes before the show we excused ourselves to let him prepare. He joked to me about "having fun" as that's what they say to us comics, "have fun." He mentioned that he didn't know if he'd be able to watch the set. I thought that was the oddest thing he could have ever said. Why in the world would he want to watch the set; let alone caring enough about it to mention right before I went out.

The set went off as usual. I brought Bobby Collins up and then exited to the backstage. The first being I saw was George Carlin. He was standing outside the green room and he said, "I got to see it!" He gave me the old Johnny Carson Tonight Show "Ok" sign with his fingers and said "Very nice!" It was and is the coolest moment I've ever had. A lot of times when things like that happen, a person will say that statement with a condition. Other than the time my kids were born, it was the coolest moment. Well I'm going to tell you the truth, it was the coolest moment. My kids being born was a given, this was completely unexpected. Besides my kids didn't pen the words, "It looks like ...meatcake." Bobby had finished his set and I went back onstage to utter the words that are the greatest ones I've ever said to date onstage, "Ladies and gentlemen...Mr. George Carlin."

I watched his set as if I was I was going to be quizzed on it immediately after the performance. I watched him as he delivered every carefully placed word, every thought out phrase to a delighted and now most certainly enlightened audience. I watched and I learned. I've always tried to keep learning even after all this time and there is no one better to watch and learn from than a true master wordsmith than one George Carlin. He was preparing for what would be his final HBO special, "It's Bad for Ya." I watched him as he rarely would check his notes to make sure he was on track per the outline. I watched him as I found out what a perfectionist he was and why it made him the master of the craft that he was. He said a line that received a laugh. He stopped and politely told the audience that he was going to redo the line because the rhythm was off. As a comic, it's all about timing, pacing, and rhythm. Sometimes you didn't take in enough air to deliver the line with the desired impact or because of the feel and timing of the piece it causes you to be a hair off in the following line. That's why he stopped. He redid the line because to him he could feel it was a fraction of a second out of synch. No one in the audience knew, they laughed, and it was funny. But he knew and it wasn't acceptable. It wasn't acceptable to him and in his mind it wasn't acceptable to the audience, so he said it again, the right way. They laughed...again. He finished his set, took his bows and as he passed me on the way offstage to the screams and applause, he said to me, "I'm not coming back." I smiled and nodded. I knew what he meant. There would be no encore this evening. The performance that had been precisely planned and methodically executed was over. And he was right, it was enough, it was...perfect.

After the show, I made my exit from the club. As much as I wanted to have frozen that moment in time forever, it was time to go. I said goodbye to him and told him that it was an honor to share the stage with him. He gracefully thanked me and wished me well. I asked to take a picture with him which he graciously obliged. It's the only time in my career I've asked to take a photo with a comic I've worked with. As we were waiting for the picture set up, he spoke to me about my act. He mentioned that I looked very comfortable onstage. He also asked if something I said while onstage was true. I told him it was. He said that he thought so; it looked like I was telling the truth. He asked me about a couple of other things and then we took the picture. We said our goodbyes and I left.

There hasn't been a day since that day that I don't think about that night. My encounter with greatness and how amazingly comfortable he made me feel. With all that he's accomplished, with all that he has meant to this art form, he was the nicest, most down to earth person I've ever met. For a man that sits so far up on the mountain to take the time to make others around him feel at ease, it was amazing. Then it dawned on me, he was never on top of that mountain looking down; he was always looking up. He was always working to get better; working to be better, working to make that fraction of a second improvement on what the rest of thought was already perfection. When I left that night I thought about how great it would be if I got to work with him the next time. Well unfortunately there won't be a next time, but there was A time and somehow in a very odd way, it was enough. There will be no encore, but the meeting did what it needed to do. It made me a better comic. It made me realize that "good enough" is not good enough. If you want to be great, you've got to work at it. Take nothing for granted. George Carlin had the gift of providing laughter to many a generations and it's something he never took for granted until the very end.

George Carlin, I thank you. Rest in Peace.