Aqualung, my friend

Since my last post the bright, glittering lights of showbiz have dimmed a bit. And no doubt, since everyone everywhere has had their fill of ruminations, reminiscences and rememberings for our departed brethren I see no reason to continue the misery. Except to mention the passing of one of the greats of one of the smaller wings of the comedy stage: Fred Travalena.

True, he didn't have the sex appeal of Farah or the jazz hands/feet of Jacko. He wasn't anybody's Ed McMahon either. However, he was the only comedian, save Rich Little (still living believe it or not), who made a career off of celebrity impersonations. Certainly not the easiest path in the already treacherous world of stand-up comedy.

Most comedic "vocal" acts get sidelined for one reason or another. Vaughn Meader found a nation in mourning wasn't quite so eager for his "paakin tha caar in haavaad yaad" JFK routine after late November 1963. Michael Winslow never escaped being "that dude with the funny voices from the Police Academy movies." Once people grew tired of that series, somewhere between parts 2 and 3, he was doomed. Winslow did make a Sportscenter commercial a couple of years ago, however, as (you guessed it) "that dude with the funny voices from the Police Academy movies."

While I suppose ultimately it's better to be a has-been than to be a never-was, cases such as these sort of make me wonder. It must get old doing your act in some supermarket checkout line for the umpteenth time when all you wanted to do was buy some hot dogs. But Travalena made a career out of doing Bob Hope, Ronald Reagan, Johnny Carson and pretty much everyone that those three ever palled around with. I'm still not exactly sure how.

Certainly his skills helped tremendously, but I think he was more fortuitous in the era he performed in. Travalena made his name in the waning days of old Hollywood before we became saturated with the cult of celebrity. When the myth of infallible superstars with recognizable traits, characteristics and voices was still believed. Take Jack Nicholson for instance (please, yuk, yuk). He may be the go to impersonation for every hack under the sun but there's a reason for that. How many Brad Pitt impersonations have you seen during Pitt's 20 year career? Besides the one Pitt himself does, of course.

Though we're inundated by "celebrity" nowadays there's very few that rise beyond being a recognizable face for some fleeting moment. And even fewer that merit it. Does anyone honestly care what Megan Fox or whomever the babe o' the moment is thinks about much of anything. For that matter, would anyone recognize Ms. Fox if she didn't have a summer blockbuster (Transformers 7) bludgeoning theaters worldwide at this very minute?

The world Travalena made a career of no longer exists. Whether that's necessarily bad is for another time. The modern celebrity culture is so transparent, shallow and ultimately forgettable that celebs are already self-caricatures. There's scant need for anybody to make fun since Paris Hilton, et al do a good enough job of it themselves. How else would anybody remember them?

But as for Fred Travalena, his death is certainly worth more than the footnote mention it will most likely receive. He wasn't mean-spirited and one always got the impression (no pun intended) there was more than a little respect for the fellow at whom he was poking fun. That's a notion that's pretty antiquated these days, and it probably assures that edgy will never be used to describe Fred Travalena. Which is just as well because he wasn't. Nor can I claim to be a big fan. However, I can admit was an extremely mimic and helped people laugh for a little bit. Sometimes that's all the world wants. Or needs.