Friday, April 22, 2005 | 4:17 a.m.
WEEKEND EDITION
April 23 - 24, 2005
Who: George Carlin.
When: 8 nightly through May 4.
Where: Stardust Theater.
Tickets: $54.50.
Information: 732-6325.
Last year was not a particularly amusing one for comedian George Carlin.
A longtime deal he had to perform at the MGM Grand soured and he signed with the Stardust.
He made some unflattering comments about Las Vegas that riled a few folks.
And just before he was to start the new gig at the Stardust in December, the 67-year-old Carlin checked himself into a drug and alcohol rehab center in Malibu, Calif.
The year wasn't a total loss, however.
Carlin's third book, "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?" was released and has since hit the New York Times best-seller list.
He is performing at the Stardust Theater through May 4.
During a recent telephone interview from his Los Angles home, Carlin discussed his addiction problems and his career in Las Vegas.
Las Vegas Sun: How long have you been sober?
George Carlin: I'm in my 94th day.
Sun: What happened?
GC: It's a fairly simple thing. It goes like this: All my life I had a low-level buzz going -- with beer and pot the primary vehicles. I have had no pot in a long time. I was a cocaine addict in the '70s, along with a lot of others, but I knocked it off after five or six years. I ended it slowly, I tapered off.
But I kept having my little buzz. It was just kind of there. It never was enough to cause trouble in my life. I never lost a marriage or a partner or a job over it. I didn't back into a police car or have anything repossessed. I didn't have parole ... I never did that. It was something I could control. It never presented itself as something that needed to be stopped.
The last chapter of that -- maybe 10 or 15 years ago I started to use one Vicodin a day, my wife's before she passed away (in 1997 of liver cancer).
I do have a dislocated thumb joint. I got my own prescription. After a long period I went to two a day, then to three, and finally four. That's where I was when I blew the whistle on myself.
Sun: That doesn't sound like a major addiction.
GC: Four a day is not a dramatic habit, like some who take 30 to 50 a day. I was not to that level -- but it was too much for me. I didn't like it. I could see going to six a day, with some absurd excuse to convince myself two more would be OK.
I started doing the arithmetic and decided this (BS) is progressive. I know that. This is a disorder. It doesn't abate on its own.
I ended up drinking wine to mellow myself and I was up to a bottle a day, mostly after work. I was always in command -- but that tricks you into thinking everything's OK.
Sun; What made you check yourself into rehab?
GC: I decided one day, this is stupid. It doesn't go anywhere but in a bad direction. So in the middle of 2004, there I was with a book to finish, and after I finished it then I would have to promote it during the Christmas season. I couldn't take time out to get sober then -- so I decided to take time out to get well, to get a structure, a system together.
I can't do it on my own. I could say, "I will cut down, that two or three a day is not so bad." The addict in you says, "See, you can quit. You can cut down." But that's just a green light to use the usual amount. It's all self-deception.
Knowing that, knowing about AA and NA -- I knew enough about the programs, thanks to my wife's experience -- I heard the (BS) story going on in my head and it didn't fool me.
Sun: So what did you do?
GC: I went ahead and said, "I'm going to get a formal structure together, get some tools." That was kind of how it was. I spent 30 days in the place, Promises in Malibu. It's a good place.
Sun: Are you sticking with the program?
GC: I have done the things I need to do. I go to meetings, call my sponsor, read from the book "Alcoholics Anonymous."
Doing the things asked of you help you -- maybe save you.
I'm in this fellowship, meeting people. That's hard for me. I've always been a loner. We meet in people's homes -- no celebrities -- these are what I need: small groups, eyeball to eyeball.
Sun: Do you ever get the urge to backslide?
GC: I don't have a yen, not since the day I went in there. Not even a twinge. I do the meetings for maintaining the fellowship.
It's a very good program if you take it seriously, and that's what I do.
Sun: You say you blew the whistle on yourself?
GC: I checked myself into the clinic and I wrote my own press release.
Sun: Do you incorporate your drug problem into your act?
GC: I have some exact pieces in my routine, word for word. I may change some things month to month, but on a daily basis I have to know it all word for word. I was off for 15 weeks, and I forget stuff when I'm away 15 weeks.
So now I will pick up the notes every once in a while.
Most people know, knew, about it, especially the fans. They are eager to show support. I say to them, "I've been gone 15 weeks. I'm a little rusty."
I haven't avoided it, but it's not really funny. It doesn't strike me as a good source of humor. My comedy is usually about distorting things, comic distortion. There is nothing about this that suggests that it needs to be joked about, not that it's beyond joking, it just doesn't strike me as funny.
Sun: Meanwhile, in addition to returning to the stage you are promoting your latest book, "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?" That's an interesting title.
GC: Yeah, it offends all three religions, plus vegetarians. This is my third book. I have sold 500,000 hard copies.
Sun: How is it different from your other two books, "Brain Droppings" and "Napalm & Silly Putty"?
GC: It's not different -- it's three different versions of all the scrambled things in my head -- little things like language and the American experience.
Sun: Why did you leave MGM Grand?
GC: They said I was too dark.
I have a suicide routine I do -- seven letters from people with suicides in their family. A million people a year do it, and I'm making fun of it in a 35-minute piece about American culture -- it's not just about hanging yourself.
The corporate men up there, they get nervous. Business wants everything nice and peaceful. They said I was too dark. I said, "Fine, I will find another room."
I don't work for anybody. I four-walled at the MGM, though there was implicitly a partnership because it's their place. But I didn't work for MGM.
Sun: You said some negative things about fans in Las Vegas about the time you left the MGM.
GC: You go to Portland (Oregon), Miami, San Antonio -- you get my hard-core fans. They expect certain things. But Vegas is a catchall -- here they are casual fans: That's where I can run into a hard audience. It's a harder scene, but it works most of the time.
The general public is fine, but Las Vegas is a strange animal, that's all.
Sun: Has your fan base changed or decreased over the years?
GC: No. I get my portion of the public. I don't get the hard-core right-wing fans, I get my people. They have a more daring, more adventuresome spirit. I have always just had my little portion of the public.
Sun: Because of the political climate these days, have you altered your act?
GC: I'm not a political activist. I don't like activism. I don't do political humor. I talk about things with political overtones, but I don't talk about politics -- that's just for suckers. I like talking about the American experience and how it has deteriorated, and about the human experience.
Just the things we see, the culture, the freak show. America is a land of excess -- we will take any good or bad idea and run it into the ground.
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