Halcyon Days

I thought I would write a belated tribute to one of my favorite stand-up comedians, although that’s not quite the right term for him. He usually delivered his funniest material while seated.

When I was in my final year of high school, a new UHF television channel in the area began broadcasting. As I soon discovered, like other new stations around the country, this one needed to fill late night programming time and was willing to do so with some pretty adventurous (for East Tennessee, anyway) fare.

One Friday night, I was in my bedroom watching a little TV before calling it a night, and that was when I first saw a British comedy program called Dave Allen At Large.

What proceeded before my eyes and ears was 30 minutes of the funniest jokes and skits I had ever seen, all courtesy of this charming Irishman seated with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

I had more trouble sleeping that night than I had bargained for, simply because I couldn’t stop laughing. It only took five minutes into the program before I decided I had better shut my bedroom door for fear of waking my parents from my laughter.

But was I ever hooked on this program.

Dave Allen was a groundbreaking entertainer in so many ways it makes the mind boggle. He was doing observational comedy long before anyone ever heard of Jerry Seinfeld. His storytelling abilities were masterful, and while his jokes were hilarious, they could also be extremely vicious in making a point.

As someone on one Web site put it, Dave Allen was an alternative comedian before the phrase existed.

Looking back on that time, I think what endeared me to Allen’s program was simply the style he exhibited on stage. He was the like the really cool uncle you might see at family reunions or holiday dinners, the jokester of the family who would tell outrageous stories and have you cracking up the whole day.

He often introduced the skits on the program with a few lines that seemed thought provoking. But then he would flash a sly grin that let the audience know immediately something hilarious was about to be seen, courtesy of Allen and his troupe of comedy actors.

I did my best to describe one of these skits the following day to my father, something Allen referred to as little known secret weapons of the British Army in World War II. Part of that skit involved British soldiers in the trenches, desperate to eliminate two German sentries, who send one of their own out in drag.

As he approaches the sentries, he flashes them, they are temporarily stunned, and of course he drops to the ground to allow the other British soldiers to pick off the two Germans like soda cans on a fence.

My dad, a World War II veteran himself, was shaking with laughter by the end of my recounting.

Dave Allen often drew upon his own memories as a young boy growing up in religiously strict Ireland for a lot of his jokes, which sometimes got him in big trouble with local authorities and Catholic Church officials, who didn’t appreciate the humor. In fact, a few towns in the UK and Ireland banned him from performing live because of what they deemed the offensive nature of his material.

For those of us who adored his wit and humor, though, the religious jokes were something of a religious experience in themselves.

All too often, we get so caught up in the seriousness of religious beliefs and expression that we become blind to all the humor and merriment that exists within them. There is nothing funny about God, we tell ourselves, despite the fact that there is so much to be laughed at regarding the human race, His prize creation.

Allen dared to think otherwise, and invited the rest of us to see what he was talking about.

He died three years ago this month at the relatively young age of 68.

I didn’t get to spend very much time reflecting on his passing. Five days later, someone even more influential to me suddenly died, way too early for her time as well at 63.

As far I as know at the time of writing this column, there is no Dave Allen compilation yet available on North American DVD. However, if you go to YouTube and type in a search for “Dave Allen”, you will find many video clips that will give you a sampling of just how funny and ingenious this man truly was in his career (although I would warn you some of his material is definite PG-13 level, so you might not want young children around).

Just one other warning: Be prepared to be hurting at the sides from laughter.

And I’ll leave you with the closing Dave often used for his programs: Good night, good luck, and may your God go with you.

Terry Britt subscribes to Dave Allen’s belief that a great storyteller never lets the facts get in the way. You can reach him at terrybritt@hotmail.com