Written by the Scribner

January 17, 2022

America’s dad, the white version don quench, humped over. His music has stopped playing but he has so much he wanted to do, but when the alarm rings, you have to go, terminated at your task.

He enjoyed his career but was not fully satisfied. He had success but not the kind he wanted, so many failed expectations.

Comedy is not as funny because there is nothing funny. He had an edge, not the best. He thrived in his whiteness and in his mediocrity, but always fed off the energy of others like a moth. He was gone. The departure was swift and he didn’t see it coming.

He was a man that floated. He had some hits and success, but not anywhere like he wanted to be. He is sort of like a godfather other comedians go to, sort of made him special and gave him purpose. He enjoyed and marveled at coaching or being a big brother or confidante of comedians, secretly he wanted that success, that breakthrough.

Full House was stability. It gave him regular income and allowed him to grace our television screen, but others on the show competed or took attention from Daddy. He was a stable member of the show. Things revolved around him, but he could not break the mold he wanted. So he settled for a life where he could maintain contact with famous comedians of his liking and those that are in his orbit and thought highly of him.

He is now in the night figuring out where he is and slowly coming to the realization that he has passed, no longer in flesh, only in spirit.

A bit jealous of Dave Chappelle. He was oblivious. Oh well, that is the end of that.