Henry Bushkin was Johnny Carson's lawyer and best friend for many years until, one day, he wasn't either of those things. As we've mentioned before, he has a book out which I've read some of and keep meaning to finish. I'll write about it here when I do but in the meantime, here's a recent interview of Mr. Bushkin and if you want to order the book from Amazon, here's a link for that. Thanks to Dana Gabbard for telling me about this…

101 Household Tips for Every Room in your Home. I wouldn't try the one about making grilled cheese in your toaster.

Our pal Kliph Nesteroff has found a review of the first time Johnny Carson hosted The Tonight Show. It was as a guest host for Jack Paar in May of 1958 and the critic found it "mostly dull" and said it would "never go down as memorable."

As you know well by now, my mother was Catholic and my father was Jewish. When they first spoke of getting hitched, they received so much condemnation from both families that they separated…and the woman who would be my mother went so far as to marry someone else within her own faith. That didn't work out and they ended up getting an annulment, which is just a divorce for people who got one but want to be able to say, "I was never divorced." My mother decided to go with the Jew, they married…and they had an ideal marriage. I've never seen a couple that got along that well.

At first, to avoid ticking off either side of the family, they pretty much raised me to be nothing. Then, in one of the few mistakes they ever made in parenting, they sent me to Hebrew School. I told you in the last of these pieces what a disaster that was.

It prompted a few comments from folks who said, "Gee, what a terrible childhood you had." No, no, no. I had a great childhood…the best one I witnessed among all my friends. In these articles, I am literally telling you every unpleasant memory I have from being a kid. It's about six or seven in my first eighteen years. My parents never fought. There was very little yelling. There was no hitting. There was no heavy drinking. I never got in trouble. And though we weren't wealthy, I pretty much got everything I wanted.

Hebrew School, as bad as it was, was only once a week for a few months. Once it was over, they decided to give me at least a brief exposure to the religion of my mother's side.

On the (bad) advice of a family friend, a visit was arranged between me and a high official of a local church. Then as now, I am unsure of his title and as I think back upon him, I have a mental image of Dean Wormer in Animal House but dressed as priests dress when they want to remind you that they're priests and you're not. I have always had a natural suspicion of people who try to "one-up" you with how they dress. It's like when you go to someone's office and they make sure they're sitting in a higher chair than you are.

He welcomed me, greeted me cordially and condescendingly, parked me in a chair, then sat in one that made him much, much taller than anyone else who'd ever visit him. He then proceeded to lecture me for a good half hour on how there was one true religion in the world (his) and the rest were frauds, shams and, of course, The Work of The Devil.

All who followed them — indeed, all who didn't surrender wholly to his version of his faith — were condemned to spend all eternity writhing in exquisite agony amidst the fire pits. These lost souls included, of course, my father, my mother (especially her for her act of treason, even though it had resulted in me), all the aunts and uncles I liked, all my friends…and billions of foolish non-Catholics around the planet.

I believe I actually said, "Sure gonna be crowded down there" but he didn't hear me. He didn't hear much of anything I said. It was kind of like "accept Jesus as your personal savior and get the hell out, kid." Or maybe it was "get out of hell." I don't remember. I do remember a pretty horrendous description of God. It made Him sound like a wrathful super-villain with the power to flood the world or wipe out a continent if he felt disrespected and there was talk only of Fear of God, not Love of God, which was even more off-putting. Mostly though, I recall the utter contempt for other religions and those who followed them.

Oh — and there was a lot about him (with a small "h") and his operation. It was not enough to just accept the teachings. God wouldn't be pleased with you if all you did was lead a moral life. You had to show up at church (preferably Father Wormer's) every single Sunday, participate in its affairs and rituals and — especially! — fill the old collection plate.

I got out of there without accepting Jesus or even Father Wormer as my personal savior. When I quoted to my parents some of the lecture/scolding I'd received, they realized they'd chosen poorly and urged me to pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.

A few weeks later, I spent a much more pleasant half-hour with an elder or a senior or a monsignor — I'm bad on these titles — at St. Timothy's down on Pico. He was the right guy but little of what he said meant much to me. The main thing I got from him was more respect for Catholics — they weren't all like the other guy — and the message that one could be of any faith if one respected others'. Either of those two things alone would have been worth the visit.

I came away from the latter meeting with the feeling that I didn't have to commit myself body and soul to any established church or teaching; that I didn't need to swear allegiance to any of them to understand that you shouldn't kill, you shouldn't steal, you shouldn't harm another human being except, when necessary, in self defense and perhaps the defense of others.

Having a last name like "Evanier" causes people to not know instantly what you are so when they asked, I'd often say, "As Jewish as I wanna be." I meant by that I'd take the parts of the faith and culture that made sense to me and respectfully decline the others. It's worked flawlessly except when I encounter someone who thinks you have to pick a team, swear total allegiance to it and work to destroy all others.

If you'd asked my father, he would have told you he was a devout Jew, though he might also own up to all the ways in which he didn't fit some folks' lists of what a devout Jew oughta do. Among other things, he didn't recruit. He never told anyone there was anything wrong with them not being a Jew. He barely told that to me, his own son. He was a kind and honest man who made things better for his friends and family, gave to charity and never knowingly harmed another human being. If that's not enough for your God, I want no part of Him.

Here's our first Christmas video of the year on this site. This is from The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson from I-don't-know-what-year. The four men are, left to right, writer Pat McCormick, announcer Ed McMahon, Johnny, and bandmember Tommy Newsom. You can see the first three getting into it (Pat may even have suggested the sketch) and you can see Tommy just going along with the bit, not singing and kind of looking like he just wants it to be over. I'm not sure how long after this it was that Johnny decided to stop using Tommy in sketches or to even let him front the band anymore. He was a darned good musician, though.

Joe Brancatelli, the man who knows more about airlines than anyone alive, doesn't think much will come of this proposal to allow passengers on flights to use their cell phones. At least, there won't be a lot of voice calls, sez Joe.

My pal Jerry Beck, whose animation website you should visit every day, writes…

I agreed with every word of your most recent cole slaw post — but only if you changed the words "Cole slaw" to "Mayonnaise." I have nothing against cole slaw. I don't eat it but I'm not against it. It's mayo that I've had the same problems with. And yes, I am allergic to mayo.

When I first got to L.A. in the 1980's every burger or sandwich I ordered anywhere was slathered with the white stuff. When I ordered my burger without mayo, it arrived 9 times out 10 with it.

One time I asked the waiter about the mayo on my burger. He said it wasn't mayo, it was a "spread." So after that it was "no mayo or spreads."

Next time, a few weeks later, I ordered my burger with no mayo or spreads, it came back with something on the bun. I again asked the waiter and he said it wasn't mayo or a "spread" — it was a "dressing."

So now I order my sandwiches with "no mayo, dressings, spreads or anything you can put on the burger or bun." The waiters or waitresses usually respond, "Oh, you want it "dry." Yes. That's exactly what I want!

I don't share your aversion to mayonnaise but I prefer it in salads like tuna or potato. I don't want it slathered on anything. I also don't want cheese on my burger, lettuce and tomato on my burger, spreads or dressing on my burger, chili, guacamole or cole slaw on my burger, etc. I've learned the best way to get what I want is to order "I'd like a hamburger, medium rare. And what I'd like is meat, bun, onions and nothing else on the plate except the french fries [or potato salad or chips or whatever the side dish is]."

I add my own ketchup when it gets to me because if the chef adds it, I get too much or too little. Since I learned to do all this, I almost always get what I want. And when I don't, they realize it's their fault and hurry to correct it.

Oddly enough, I've observed that servers appreciate that kind of specificity. They get so many customers who are vague or don't specify and then complain at what they find on their plate. A few weeks ago, I was with someone at a restaurant who ordered the fish sandwich and was upset with the server when it came with tartar sauce on it. Yeah, well, but the menu said "tartar sauce." The restaurant had to remake the sandwich so they lost some money on that meal.

Some restaurants are now experimenting with giving diners a tablet computer — an iPad or its equivalent and you place your own order on its screen. They're saying they will not be reducing the number of employees if this catches on but I can't believe that. And I sure wouldn't like not having a server who's easy to flag down and who's responsible for answering my questions and seeing that I get what I want.

But that aside, I can see some good in these tablets if they work like this: I click on "wor won ton soup" and I get a list of all the mandatory ingredients and all the optional ones. In most restaurants, you can omit some things you don't want in a menu item and some things that are already mixed-in and inseparable. It would be great for someone like me with food allergies to know exactly what I'm getting and whether I have to specify "no almonds" — or not order the beef stew at all because it's only available with broccoli already in it.

I hope the tablets will not just give us all the same information we already get on the menu.  I've been on some online ordering sites for delivery or take-outs that are like that.  I find myself with all sorts of questions and no one to answer them.  Either way, I'm going to need a server just as much as I ever do. I'd trust ordering from a person more than I'd trust that I clicked in the right place on the tablet. One wrong click and I could get something with live maggots on it. Or worse, cole slaw.

• Would someone please ask Sarah Palin if she can name one immoral or unethical thing a rich person might do to make money?

That great vocalist Cookie Monster performs a tune that will remind one of Carly Rae Jepsen's hit, "Call Me Maybe." If you're not familiar with Ms. Jepsen's tune, you might want to watch it before you watch the parody…

Ezra Klein explains why Obamacare is a good thing. Quick summary: Under the old system, it was too possible that you'd lose your health plan for a myriad of reasons outside your control (including rising prices) or might not be able to get one in the first place. If and when the Affordable Care Act is fully implemented across the country, you'll always be able to get a new, affordable plan. They may still have to tweak a few parts of it to make that happen but at the moment, that's where we'll wind up. The alternative is the old system and millions more who can't get or afford decent health insurance.

What does it look like inside an Amazon.com warehouse? Looks a lot like my house.

Luke O'Neill says it's not uncommon in restaurants for a server's salary to be docked when dishes are broken or when a customer walks out on a check. This really bothers me. I can think of a dozen ways those things can happen and it wouldn't be the server's fault. It might even be management's fault but they're going to reclaim the cost from the underpaid server? Maybe it's me but I don't recall from past decades this relentless drive from some businesses to keep their employees as poor as possible.

Here's a review of the Beyoncé show I attended. I pretty much agree with everything in it.

And here, for my own record if not your info, is the set list she performed: Run the World, End of Time, If I Were a Boy, Get Me Bodied, Baby Boy, Diva, Naughty Girl, Party, Freakum Dress, Why Don't You Love Me, 1+1, Irreplaceable, Love On Top, Survivor, Countdown, Crazy In Love, Grown Woman, I Was Here, I Will Always Love You, Halo. In that order.

I received an e-mail from someone who wrote "How could you stand that crap?" and a couple others from folks who said essentially the same thing, only nicer. Obviously, given the lady's popularity, I am hardly the only person on the planet who likes "that crap." I thought she was terrific…and I also took the POV that I was something of an alien presence there, enjoying the chance to observe native customs. I mean nothing racial in that. It's just that her show is not geared to 61-year-old guys who are not heavy into what she does or to R&B played at that volume.

So I guess I could have gone into Old Man mode and barked at these kids today and their music and how it's not like the old days and while you're at it, get the hell off my lawn! But I always feel a certain arrogance welling up within me when I go anywhere near there. It's like, "How dare there be entertainment not geared for my tastes?" And on some level, "How dare something I don't like be so successful?" I just found much there to admire and enjoy, including the sheer professionalism of the performance and the sense of audience connection and participation. Most of all, I thought this: How often do you get to be in a room with 18,000 people all having the best time of their lives and showing it?

There are people in this world who somehow feel threatened by the happiness of others. I'm thinking of one guy I occasionally encounter at conventions when I can't avoid him. He's got to be one of the unhappiest people on this planet. Whenever he runs into someone who's happy (or at least, seems happy to him) you can see it make him madder. It's like they've got something he can't seem to get. And those grins on their faces? That's them flaunting it just to make him feel worse.

I think the happiness of others is the best drug in the world. Well, not always. When your knee is hurting, as my left knee (the one I didn't have surgery on earlier this year) is now, a shot of cortisone is the best drug in the world and I got one today so I can do something over the weekend besides wince. But when your knee is not hurting, the happiness of others is the best drug and I got a good shot of that on Tuesday evening. I'd go again if she was here, I got another free ticket and I didn't have to stand for the whole show.

I am told that neither Barry Humphries (aka "Dame Edna") nor Tim Conway (aka "Dorf") are retiring from anything except touring. Humphries apparently has a bit more farewell touring to go, including a probable limited engagement on Broadway here. Conway was on The Talk today to plug his autobiography and deny the rumors that he was giving up show biz. I didn't see it but I'm told he said something like, "I don't know how these stories get started." Well, Tim, they got started because the press release you put out to announce you were retiring from live performing and canceling all your future dates didn't make clear you weren't giving up all performing.

Anyway, it's good we'll have Dame Edna and Tim around. We need all the silly people we can get.

Boomerang UK, over in Great Britain, is running a marathon this week of The Garfield Show — dozens of episodes, including the best of Season Four and all the extra-long episodes therein. I believe Season Four has now run in every country on this planet where it will ever run…except the United States.

When will it run in the United States? I don't know. Why would anyone tell me? I'm only the Supervising Producer, Head Writer and Voice Director! How could I possibly have any interest in this?