Commentary: David Letterman moves on

By John Krull
TheStatehouseFile.com 

INDIANAPOLIS – Nearly 30 years ago, I spotted David Letterman at a store in Indianapolis.

It was when he was still on the climb – back before the move to CBS, before his epic (and losing) battle with Jay Leno to succeed

John Krull, publisher, TheStatehouseFile.com

Johnny Carson on “The Tonight Show,” back when he was the brash young troublemaker who wasn’t happy unless he was kicking television’s fourth wall down.

I’d liked his humor from the beginning, the mockery and self-mockery he used to deflate pomposities, including his own. The whole premise of his programs, after all, was that they were television shows and shouldn’t be taken too seriously.

Three decades later, I still laugh at a running joke he rolled out about Walter Mondale, Jimmy Carter’s vice president and the 1984 Democratic presidential candidate. In person, Mondale is bright and charming, but on TV he generated an excitement level that registered somewhere between porridge and oatmeal.

Letterman said that was because people didn’t know the real Mondale, who had a fascinating history. Then, taking a riff from the old Johnny Cash song, he said that Mondale once had “shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”

The whole idea was so absurd – and so funny. I laughed until I rolled off the sofa.

For at least a week after that, every time Letterman made reference to Mondale, he said, “you know, the presidential candidate who shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”

Every time, it cracked me up. In just a few words, Letterman managed to puncture not just Mondale’s placid dullness but that of the blow-dried and carefully coiffed political world itself – and give a hint of the endless and surreal scrambling just below the settled surface.

And there, three decades ago, Letterman was at a small shop in Broad Ripple, not far from where he grew up and went to high school. He was with his then-girlfriend and writing partner Merrill Markoe.

I thought about going over to introduce myself and tell him how much I enjoyed his show, but something stopped me.

He and Markoe clearly were in the middle of a spat. They weren’t loud about it or undignified in any way, but all the signs were there. They were leaning in close and talking in hushed tones. Their brows were furrowed, their shoulders tensed and their lips pursed. Markoe kept tapping Letterman’s forearm with her forefinger, almost as if she were pounding out a drum solo.

Yup, they were having a fight.

Much as I wanted to go over and shake his hand and tell him that it was great to see a guy from Indiana doing so well, I couldn’t help but put myself in his position. I couldn’t help but think how difficult it would be to break off in the middle of an argument with your significant other to smile, shake hands and be gracious with a total stranger.

So I hung back. Minutes later, Letterman and Markoe left the store, still quietly bickering. They broke up not long after.

Flash forward to now. Just a few days ago, Letterman announced he would retire in 2015.

His announcement produced a well-deserved wave of tributes and accolades. He was lauded as a man who revolutionized late-night television and a broadcasting hall-of-famer.

At the heart of that success was the quality that prompted me to respect his space so he could have a fight with his girlfriend without interruption all those years ago – an ability to elicit empathy. We laughed at his jokes, forgave his missteps, worried over his health troubles and overlooked his occasional cantankerousness because he seemed like one of us, just another Hoosier with a sharp wit who happened to step onto the big stage.

I missed my chance to shake Letterman’s hand 30 years ago. If I had it again, I’d tell him the truth – that I still laugh occasionally at jokes he’s probably forgotten he even told.

And I’d tell David Letterman that, thanks to him, I’ll always think of Walter Mondale as the political candidate “who shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”

John Krull is director of Franklin College’s Pulliam School of Journalism, host of “No Limits” WFYI 90.1 Indianapolis and publisher of TheStatehouseFile.com, a news website powered by Franklin College journalism students.