Bill Cosby -- Dentist

My son had a request tonight: He wanted to see some Bill Cosby.

That hit a nerve.

If I am funny, it's because of Cosby, George Carlin, and the long line of funny Briscoe men. I grew up listening to Cosby LPs, falling asleep to them at night.

He's not the traditional comedian; he's a storyteller, a raconteur. Clean material almost exclusively too.

So we hit the library, but didn't have much luck.

Off we went to the Movie Trading Company, where I rented a copy of Bill Cosby: Himself.

Now, I explained to Wolfboy that watching standup comedy is like reading a picture-less book (which he is now doing): You have to do some work in your head to enjoy it.

I put it on, and immediately Cosby used the word "asshole."

Ah, dang it.

And then he went into a routine about drug use. It was dicey for a few minutes.

But...

But...

Something about Cosby's physical antics and voices and facial expressions grabbed that boy, and he started to chuckle.

And then... this routine.

And we wiped the tears from our eyes as we laughed...

That boy is going to be A-OK.