Playful.  At its best, my youth was playful.  I owe a lot of that spirit and the tone of my youthful glee to David Letterman.  I remember my first introduction to “Late Night,” when I was in my early teens and my mom told me about a show that I might appreciate.  Given the introduction of the VCR, that was all the push that I needed and for years my after school time was spent watching the previous evening’s Letterman.  I wrote papers comparing his style to Johnny Carson’s in early High School (I’m sure they were excellent examples of literary critique).  I memorized his jokes.  I wore the show’s apparel.  I tried to recreate a “Late Night” show during German class (unfortunately, it was not executed very well, but not for a lack of trying.  I should however get points for bravery in my attempt to author a joke about German Chancellor Helmut Kohl).  I taught myself to drink from a glass of water placed on my forehead, without using my hands, after seeing it on a segment of “Stupid Human Tricks.”  I developed the habit of telling a joke over and over again, recognizing that soon the joke’s failure became a joke in itself (all of you who have been cursed with my commentary on why I don’t purchase fitted hats, “because my head might swell,” can blame that repeated joke on my mimic of Letterman).

Then, as I got older, came the road trips.  A Summer 1992 taping of “Late Night” with my sister Kathy.

Here I am with my sister, during some tourist stop in New York City.  Note my stylish “Late Night at Michigan” t-shirt that contained a long forgotten “Top Ten List” on the back.  Also kids, listen up.  That thing on my wrist is called a watch and you cannot use it to make phone calls.

After the taping, I ran into a woman featured during one of the show’s ventures out of the studio.  I don’t remember her name, but that’s not important.  What’s important is that “What happens in New York stays in New York.”  Wink, wink, say no more.

On December 26, 1992, a road trip with my friend Chris to visit Indianapolis and the Atlas Supermarket, where Letterman worked in High School.  On the return trip, we stopped at Ball State to see where Dave attended college.

Chris and I in a selfie decades before the term “selfie” originated.  Yes, we were selfie pioneers.

Also worth noting, during the drive back my beloved baby blue Ford Escort spun around on a snowy highway, missed by seconds being plowed into by a semi-truck, and ended up in a ditch.  I was obviously spared to go on one final Letterman road trip.

My last Letterman road trip occurred with my friend Adam to a taping of the “Late Show” in Summer 1994.  The funniest photo from that trip was a picture of me wearing only a State of New Jersey map (the Garden State, of course), but I did not post that picture for fear of breaking the Internet.

Here we are posing with one of the owners of a store neighboring the “Late Show,” the famed Sirajul (not to be confused with co-owner Mujibur).

Later came grad school and watching Letterman late into the night on the couch with my cute girlfriend Charlene in her little apartment, just a short walk from campus.  Years passed.  I grew older.  Dave grew older.  We now both have 11-year-old sons who were born just a few weeks apart (coincidence, no sort of creepy planning involved).  The “head swelling” joke endured and Dave kept presenting his “Top Ten” lists.  Now, his final show.

So tonight, I’d just like to pass along a thanks to Dave.  I will be certain to think of him every time I say to my kids with a smile the phrase that Letterman so mindfully copied from a butcher shop wall, “Pleased to meet you.  Meats to please you.”

Epilogue – Just one more favorite Letterman quote for the road, “One thousand people were polled (pause) and we all know how painful that can be.”  Thanks Dave.