The Little Poet of Laugh-In Has Died: Henry Gibson, Age 72

Henry Gibson, who was born James Bateman in Germantown, PA, served in the USAF and later took Henry Gibson as his stage name… a play on the name of the great playright Henrik Ibsen, who wrote amongst others, the play Hedda Gabler, which you may remember was about a willful soul who raced her father’s horses while standing on the seat of the coach, yet married a dry academic who dried her soul to dust.

Henry Gibson wrote himself into the play of life certainly kin to Hedda Gabler, willful, funny, puckish, but with wicked humor too… But instead of laying about with dusty dry plays in the theatre, he entered the madness of the wild TV show Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In… an irreverent show which outraged so many at the time, made others harrumph themselves into apoplexy… but the political satire prefiguring SNL, caused millions of viewers put Laugh-in on their must-watch list along with the Smothers Brothers TV show, and late night Johnny Carson.

One of Gibson’s personas on Laugh-in was ‘Henry Gibson the poet of bad poetry…’ Gibson toddled out on stage, a little Lord Fauntleroy double, dressed to seem like a man in ‘lost child’ clothing– a Nehru-ish narrow-lapeled jacket, a string of beads, and holding a gigantic flower almost bigger than his whole body.

For Gibson, dead pan and timing were the pith of his gift. And he used it well. His pacing and delivery –flat but funny– were very similar to Jack Benny’s,’ another popular comedian of that time.

But Gibson was also a subversive. Not all was played just for laughs. In the latter ‘bad poetry’ below called “Flowers,” he slams the ‘pretend peaceniks’ who had been infiltrating peaceful groups, those who are made ‘of wires’…

In the late 1960s time, a corruption of innocent flower children holding forth peace had taken place… some other groups looking about as rag-tag as the original so-called gentle peaceniks, had taken over ‘the scene.’ The ‘fake group’ were the ubër-hippies, the falsified, the lookatme-lookatme imimportant, iam, iam because i say so, people who grabbed headlines with outrage after outrage that was not based on peace. Nor on love of humanity.

These last had bombing, killing of law officers, and destroying instead of building, in mind. Henry Gibson was like a tiny David standing in the black shadow of a sudden cultural Goliath.

Laugh-In ran on NBC from 1968 through 1973, and Mr. Gibsen shared billing with this ensemble cast: Ruth Buzzi, Judy Carne, Goldie Hawn, Arte Johnson, Jo Anne Worley and others.

“Laugh-In” again prefigured Saturday Night live, in that folks of the time would never expect certain well-known personages to appear on a modern burlesque show. They ‘important’ and the celebrated, not only appeared but often joined in cast skits: The melange included Richard Nixon, Hugh Hefner, Hugh Downs, and Rod Serling.

Here is an example of two poems written by and recited by Henry Gibson, the Poet of Laugh-In… remembering that Gibson used a syncopated voice as bland as a metronome set to 2/4… that same artificial tone many were half seriously and half ridiculously taught to use when giving oral book reports in grade school:

He’d begin by saying: “A poem, by Henry Gibson.”

Here’s one of his silly ones.

How I Saved A Baby Rhino from Slippin’ In The Quicksand,
Whilst In Search Of My Fountain Pen,
Last Summer Along The Amazon River

With great difficulty.

Here’s one of his serious ones, for those with eyes to see and ears to hear.

Flowers

(Flowers have always been the motivating force of my life)

They are not all flower children,
All those that use the name.
A lot are just imposters,
Playin’ at the game.

Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers,
They may be nice to look at,
But they’re dead and can not grow.
Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers.
They’re plastic up on top,
And they’re wire down below.

The real flower children
Are filled with love.
Phonies, they just scoff at love –
Their hearts are made of wood.

Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers,
They may be nice to look at,
But they’re dead and can not grow.
Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers.
They’re plastic up on top,
And they’re wire down below.

True blue flower children
Do not act strange or queer.
They know the world has got to change,
And it must start right here.

Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers,
They may be nice to look at,
But they’re dead and can not grow.
Beware (beware),
Beware (beware)
Of artificial flowers.
They’re plastic up on top,
And they’re wire down below.

Henry Gibson passed away from cancer; the scourge and pandemic of our time. He worked in film, television and on the stage all the way to the end of his life.

Bless Henry Gibson for knowing the difference between the real heart and a crumb-bum. And saying so. With humor. Poet on.