Johnny Carson was a true legend. A true gentleman. A man who bowed out of show business and remained an anomaly until last week when we heard that he was writing jokes for David Letterman, which frankly made me happy to hear. We did not see him show up at Award shows or tributes, and frankly, I missed seeing him. In 1998, I took a stupid job in Los Angeles being a car messenger. The job lasted a week, in which time I think I put about 10,000 miles on my car. One of my trips was to a nice office building which I think is considered Marina Del Ray area. It was a small orange brick building with about three floors, and when I arrived on the floor I needed and picked up the script I was sent for, I pressed the down button. As I waited, an office door opened, and out walked a woman with Johnny Carson heading my way. He was dressed as I always pictured him in his down time; white tennis shorts and neat white Polo shirt with embroidery. We rode the elevator down in silence as I tried to think of something witty or jovial to say to my best celebrity sighting ever. That included the Jennifers and the Brads and the Micks that send the paparazzi scampering. I held the door open, as we exited I told him to have a nice day and he wished me the same. I considered Johnny the last great entertainer after Frankie from Hoboken died. I am at a blank when I try to think of another.