682. IMOGENE COCA

IMOGENE COCA
'Once we incarcerate the contaminated gene
we'll all feel better for a spell.' The audience went
crazy with that one. Maybe 1956, I really can't
recall. Some boffo boxers duking it out on
a tiny TV in black and white. Antenna atop
the wooden set. The laughter sounded real.
-
Not long after that, as I remember, some
Sputnik spooking put a grand hesitancy into
looking skyward. Dark night of the soul, an
American two-step backwards into a new welter
of despair and bad tidings. Out on our lawn,
my father, smoking, looking up, said 'just watch
for the blinking light as it's moving by, son.'
I had no idea what he meant by that.
-
Back indoors, another raft of laughter
peppered the living room sky. More like
a bad sea of crummy water, I thought to myself.
No blinking lights, nothing moving along the
ceiling. Just Imogene Coca, or someone,
and those reams of laughter pealing.