Originally published May 9, 1997, my remembrances of comedian Pat Paulsen covered the two times our paths crossed. My first paragraph references the fact the name of my weekly Kansas City Kansan newspaper column was “Crum on Film.” Paulsen was basically a non-movie comedian-satirist. But he did appear in small roles in a half dozen flicks, the best being Doris Day’s “Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?” 

By Steve Crum

For the life of me I cannot recall Pat Paulsen ever making a movie. But then again, there is a gnawing recollection of him starring in a Phyllis Diller grade-Z comedy in the late 1970s. I am probably confusing him with Bob Denver. No matter. The truth is that the Paulsen’s media were TV, live appearances (for the most part “campaigning” for President of the United States), and writing. His writing encompassed several books (collections of his political essays and one-liners) and his brilliant TV and mock-political scripts. 

Just reading the text of his political bits is funny enough, but Paulsen’s basset hound delivery made them hilarious. Try not to hear Paulsen’s deadpan tone in this excerpt from his March 19, 1997 editorial on “Should the Use of Firearms Be Restricted?,” delivered on the show that launched his career, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour:

•”Many people today are suggesting that restrictions be placed on the purchase and ownership of firearms. We respect them, and we will fight to the death against their right to express their opinions.

•”We are merely talking about simple firearms: pistols, rifles, and bazookas. I ask you what is our most cherished right since pioneer days? The right for every man, woman, and child to carry a gun.

•”A gun is a necessity. Who knows when you’re walking down the street and you’ll spot a moose? We at the Smothers Brothers Corporation consider this a personal plot on our integrity. Now personally, I myself carry a gun. DO I LOOK UNSTABLE? Let no man take away our liberties,. Stand up and be counted. Let’s preserve our freedom to kill. Thank you.” 

Funny Pat Paulsen. His recently reported April 24 death at 69 in Mexico, after pneumonia and kidney failure, saddened me greatly. I was privileged to cross paths with him twice, the first time in his dressing room at the Civic Auditorium in Emporia, Kansas—not long after he delivered the previous editorial on TV. It was presidential candidate Pat Paulsen then, and he was touring with the Back Porch Majority. It was Paulsen’s first of six campaigns, and playing to the Emporia State (then Kansas State Teachers College) audience was part of what he later recalled as being a “grueling, non-stop schedule.” As Associate Editor and media critic of the college newspaper, The Bulletin, I had the happy duty of covering Paulsen. 

After the show, a half-dozen local press surrounded a sweating, even more saggy-faced-up-close Paulsen as he did his best to continue the show with quips and one-liners to reporters’ questions. Paulsen was still playing the comedy prez candidate, and we were an extended audience. Paulsen sat opposite center of a long table in his crammed dressing area. Beside him, standing, his manager guided all questions, cutting off the pseudo-interview in exactly 20 minutes.

Funny how reporters flutter in the face of celebrity. I have seen it happen again and again. The second the ordered and composed interview is over, reporters invariably rush the star for autographs. Paulsen expected such, and handled it with aplomb, pulling out a stamp pad and stamper. “Here you go,” he said, and proceeded to ink “Stamped by Pat Paulsen” on each received page.  

THEN THERE WAS 23 YEARS LATER

On March 25, 1990, Pat Paulsen was in the midst of a rough custody battle with his ex-wife. Among other issues was the ownership of the Pat Paulsen Vineyards located in Sonoma County outside of Santa Rosa, California. The vineyards included an incorporated town consisting of several buildings, and Paulsen’s award winning wine. (Paulsen’s close friends, Tommy and Dick Smothers, have their own wineries in the area.) 

On spring break from teaching, and visiting my Santa Rosa sister, we pulled into Paulsen’s winery, one of dozens of assorted wineries located along Sonoma County roads. Free taste tests are featured at all of them. Maybe once every year or so, I later learned, Paulsen himself appeared at his wine land. Today was that day. Three other customers were there, in addition to my sister, her husband, and me. A two-man camera crew from a tabloid TV show was preparing to shoot a piece on Paulsen’s property dilemma. And there was the legendary political candidate himself, now white-haired and droopier-faced, pacing about his parking area.  

After buying his wine (labeled “My wine has been served in the White House, even if I haven’t”) plus a copy of his Pat Paulsen For President book, I approached him. He responded cordially, signed his autograph (no stamping this time), and humorously posed for video shots with me and my family. After we talked about his life in show business, which included his total non-recollection of Emporia (“There were hundreds of towns and concerts”), the TV crew filmed away—focusing on Paulsen and his troubles only, excluding my family. 

This time Pat Paulsen, starkly alone and definitely not “on,” spoke with and not at his TV audience. He was refreshingly candid. (Incidentally, his ex eventually got the winery.) 

At this writing, several Paulsen sponsored Internet pages are in full operational form. At least they give that appearance. Speculation enters, however. Maybe Paulsen planned to resume the pages after a sojourn south of the border for radical colon and brain cancer treatments. “Be back before you can spell ‘presidential,’” maybe he thought. The cyber messages that tout Paulsen quips and merchandizing now appear frozen in html time. 

The messages are there, but the very funny, sad faced messenger is gone.