Okay, let's unpack this. When you hear the names
Tom and Bix Mothers, you know, you immediately
think folk music, the guitar, the yo -yo maybe,
and that classic line, right? Mom always liked
you best. Exactly. The gentle sibling rivalry,
and of course the big battles with the TV sensors
back in the late 60s. They really did change
the game in terms of what you could say, what
you could show on network television. But here's
the thing that's always fascinated me. What if
that whole stage act, that constant bickering,
wasn't, well, wasn't just an act. What if that
disagreement, that tension we saw was actually
real and maybe even the engine driving their
entire career for decades? That's the core of
it, isn't it? The comedy, the bickering, the
way Tom would gently provoke Dick. It seems it
was rooted in two genuinely fundamentally different
guys, philosophically different even. Right.
So our mission today in this deep dive is to
really dig into that paradox. We've got sources
covering, I mean, their entire lives and careers.
Richard Remick Smothers, that's Dick, and Thomas
Bolland Smothers III, Tom. You know, we'll look
at their beginnings, obviously, but also the
stuff they did outside the comedy duo, which
was surprisingly different for each of them.
And crucially, how this deep, genuine split between
them, this philosophical divide, somehow made
their partnership stronger, not weaker. So this
is for you, the listener. to kind of grapple
with this puzzle. How does a duo built on real
constant disagreement? You've got this outspoken,
almost radical activist on one side, Tom, and
then on the other, a more conservative, really
pragmatic guy. Dick, how do they sustain that
partnership? Especially when one becomes this
political symbol and the other, well, he becomes
a serious actor, even gets into endurance auto
racing. It's a wild study in compatibility through
conflict. It really is. And to get there, we
need to set the stage, understand where they
came from. Tom, the older one, born February
2nd, 1937. Dick, November 20th, 1938. Both born
in New York City, interestingly enough. Oh, I
didn't realize they were East Coast born. I always
associate them with California. They got there,
but yet, born in New York. Their middle name,
Remick, that comes from their mother Mary's maiden
name. But the really defining event, the tragedy
of their early childhood, was losing your father.
Right. Major Thomas B. Smothers, army officer.
He died as a prisoner of war. Held by the Japanese
in the Philippines, died in April 1945. That
kind of shared, profound loss. happening so early
in their lives. It must have forged a powerful
bond, a shared history, even before their personalities
started diverging so much later. And that history
eventually led them west. So despite being born
in New York, they really grew up in Southern
California, places like Altadena, Tujunga, Redondo
Beach. Right. They both went to Verdugo Hills
High School. then graduated from Redondo Union
High, and eventually both ended up at San Jose
State University, or San Jose State College,
as it was called back then. OK, and this is where,
as you said, the differences start to become
really visible, even before the comedy. You picture
them as these gentle folk singers, but they're
actually serious athletes. Very serious and competitive.
Dick, the younger brother, the pragmatist -to
-be, he was focused, a distance runner on the
track team. And get this, he was coached by Lloyd
Budwinter, a pretty legendary Olympic coach.
Wow. Distance running, that takes discipline,
right? Pacing, consistency, predictable effort.
Exactly. Very Dick Smothers in retrospect. And
Tom. Tom was the gymnast. Total opposite, almost.
Gymnastics requires flair, doesn't it? Acrobatics,
artistry, a certain element of risk? Absolutely.
And he was good. He actually tied for first place
on the parallel bars at the 1958 State College
Gymnastics Championships. He also pole vaulted.
So right there, before they even strum a guitar
on stage together, you've got this perfect duality,
the steady, measured, runner -dick, and the high
-flying, maybe slightly unpredictable artist
-gymnast Tom. It's almost like a blueprint for
their stage personas, wasn't it? It really feels
like foreshadowing, yeah. But the path to the
stage that started with music even earlier. Back
in high school, they actually sang together in
the school's magical choir. Get out. Magical
choir? What parts? Dick was the tenor, hitting
the higher harmonies. And Tom was the bass, providing
that foundation. Huh. OK, so music was there
early, but the folk thing, that came later. Yeah,
that was the folk boom. They were really inspired,
apparently, by the huge success of Tom Dooley
by the Kingston Trio. That song just exploded,
launched the whole craze. So initially, their
goal was just be folk musicians. pure and simple.
Makes sense. And they started playing gigs. Yep.
After Dick transferred to San Jose State in 57,
they started performing together at local San
Jose nightclubs, mostly for college crowds, playing
the folk songs. OK, so how did the comedy, the
bickering creep in? This is where it gets interesting.
The music was, you know, fine. Standard folk
stuff. But the introductions to the songs. Tom
started improvising those, just rambling, riffing,
doing all the talking between numbers. Ah, classic
Tom. Right. And Dick, being Dick, the practical
one, saw. Well, he saw potential for structure.
He suggested, hey, that funny stuff you improvised,
let's repeat it. Let's make it part of the act.
OK, so structure meets improvisation. But how
did it become the argument? Well, according to
Tom's own recollections later, once he started
trying to repeat the banter, as Dick suggested,
Dick's natural straight man instinct just took
over immediately. The dynamic shifted. Dick started
correcting him. Just correcting facts, or? It
apparently went pretty quickly from Dick just
saying, that's wrong. to the line that became
their trademark, that's wrong, you're stupid.
Wow, so that famous dynamic, the core of their
comedy, it wasn't really scripted initially,
it just emerged from Dick's genuine need to correct
Tom's rambling, combined with Tom's willingness
to, well... Play the fool. Seems like it. That
improvised argument fueled by Dick's desire for
order and Tom's creative tangents became the
central conflict and ultimately the absolute
winning formula for their whole career. It worked
pretty fast. Almost instantly. January 1959,
they get spotted by, of all things, a detective
manager. Sounds like a movie. Right. Leads to
an audition at the Purple Union in San Francisco,
a really famous folk club back then. Yeah. They
impressed enough that they left San Bay State
the very next month. Their initial two -week
contract got extended to 16 weeks. 16 weeks.
So that was it. They were full -time pros. Never
looked back. Full -time entertainers from basically
February 59 onwards. And they started getting
TV exposure pretty quickly too. Yeah, they got
their feet wet. Tom was actually a regular on
the Steve Allen show in 1961, which was huge
exposure back then. Steve Allen was a giant.
Definitely. And eventually, that led to them
getting their own show on CBS. It did. But, and
this is crucial, it wasn't the show everyone
remembers. It wasn't the comedy hour. Before
that groundbreaking counterculture variety show,
there was, well, there was something else entirely.
It's something almost nobody remembers. Ah, you're
talking about the Smothers Brothers show, the
sitcom. Exactly. The fantasy sitcom. Ran just
one season, 32 episodes, from September 65 to
April 66. Friday nights on CBS. It's this really
bizarre footnote in their career and in TV history,
frankly. And it had a strange pedigree, too,
right? Aaron Spelling created it. Yeah, Aaron
Spelling. Or before Charlie's Angels, before
Dynasty. And here's another bit of trivia for
you. Sources say it was the very last CBS sitcom
filmed entirely in black and white. The network
went full color in prime time right after. Well,
OK, but the premise. Let's get into the premise
because it sounds out there. Oh, it's completely
surreal. You need to savor the weirdness. Dick
Smothers played himself, basically. Richard,
a young, rising executive at a publishing house
called Pandora Publications. You know, the grounded,
sensible, career -focused brother. OK, makes
sense. Very dick. And Tom, what was Tom doing?
Tom Smothers played Tommy, his brother, who had
been lost at sea two years earlier, only to return
to Earth as an apprentice angel. All right, wait.
An apprentice angel? Yes. an apprentice angel,
trying to do good deeds on earth so he could
earn his wings. He got his orders from his boss,
who was unseen and unheard, just a voice named
Ralph. Ralph the angel boss. This is peak 60s
sitcom weirdness. Totally. And naturally, Tom's
attempts to help people using his, like, Clumsy
trainee level heavenly powers always went sideways
Which of course forced dick the straight man
brother on earth to constantly clean up the messes
So even in this bizarre fantasy setup, they locked
right back into their established stage dynamic
perfectly mirrored it pragmatic brother dick
dealing with the chaos caused by the idealistic,
boundary -pushing, slightly inept brother, Tom.
Except here, Tom's literally got heavenly incompetence.
The episode titles alone sound wild. You mentioned
there's something about a sailor that must be
the pilot where he comes back. That's the one.
Then you had stuff like You're Only Old Once,
where Tom magically gets aged 70 years to, I
guess, relate better to nursing home residents.
Or Never Trust a Naked Rembrandt, where Angel
Tom tries to reform a burglar. It's a thing.
Yeah. But the brothers themselves. They weren't
happy with this, right? Especially Tom. Miserable.
Particularly Tom. And that misery, that experience,
ironically became the catalyst for the revolutionary
TV they did next. Tom was really critical of
the show. He felt the whole rigid sitcom format
just completely stifle what they actually did
well. The music, the improvisation, the banter.
They were basically just after saying lines in
this weird angel plot. Pretty much. And this
brings up that crucial point about creative control.
They were stars, sure. but they had no power
on this show. Tom fought constantly with the
executives at Four Star Television over the scripts,
over the direction. And that had real consequences
for him personally. Oh, yeah. The sources are
pretty clear. The stress of that fight, the frustration
of not being able to shape their own show, it
was so intense that Tom developed an ulcer. And
it apparently contributed significantly to his
marriage ending around the time the season wrapped
up. Wow. just from fighting over an angel sitcom.
It speaks volumes about how much the creative
aspect mattered to him, even then, and the artistic
restrictions were galling. They were told, you're
actors now, not folk singers. They hardly ever
played their instruments on this show. Seriously,
the Smothers Brothers without the guitar and
bass? Barely featured. And they didn't even sing
their own theme song until about halfway through
the season run. That's just wrong. The whole
experience just solidified something in Tom's
mind. When the next chance came for a TV show,
which turned out to be the legendary Smothers
Brothers comedy hour in 67, there was one thing
he absolutely insisted on. Non -negotiable. Creative
control. 100%. He was not going through that
again. The pain and the ulcer from the Angel
sitcom directly led to him demanding and getting
the power to shape their next show. And boy,
did he shape it. Once he had those reins, he
drove that comedy hour straight into the thick
of the culture wars. Right into it the comedy
hour became this this lightning rod almost immediately
Because Tom had secured creative control over
the variety show format They started tackling
subjects that were just completely off limits
for primetime TV in the late 60s and not just
subtly right They were pretty direct. Oh, yeah,
it wasn't just like edgy jokes hidden away. They
were dealing with religion making not so veiled
references to recreational drug use, talking
about sex, and maybe most explosively criticizing
the Vietnam War. Which inevitably led to huge
fights with the network suits, the CBS standards
and practices department, the censors. that became
legendary. Relentless conflict. We're talking
about entire sketches getting cut at the last
minute, running gags about the censorship itself,
massive tension behind the scenes between the
brothers and the network brass. And it all came
to a head pretty dramatically. It did. The whole
war culminated in CBS just abruptly canceling
the show. April 4th, 1969. Show's gone. What
was the official reason? They couldn't just say,
you're too political, could they? The network
claimed it was a breach of contract. said the
brothers failed to deliver the show tapes early
enough for review before broadcast. But I mean,
come on. Everyone knew it was political. The
show is still hugely popular. Great ratings.
And the brothers didn't just accept it. No way.
Tom, especially. They refused to go quietly.
They filed this massive lawsuit against CBS for
wrongful termination and significantly. They
won. They were awarded a settlement of $776 ,300.
That's a huge sum for back then and winning against
the network like that. It was a major statement.
The lawsuit itself, the win, it really solidified
Tom's image as this, you know, uncompromising
figure fighting for free speech against the establishment.
Yeah, I read one critic at the time saying something
like, the most innovative show on TV was basically
shut down by political pressure. And Tom himself
said something interesting later about their
dynamic. What was that? He admitted that he and
Dick disagreed on basically everything, even
politics. But he believed that very disagreement
was kind of ironically essential to keeping their
professional partnership going for so long. The
tension was the act. That internal conflict fueling
the external comedy. It makes sense. And after
the cancellation, Tom really leaned into the
activist role even harder. He said he became
a kind of poster boy for the First Amendment,
freedom of speech. But it took a toll on him
personally. Seems like it. He confessed that
for about three years after the show got axed,
he became deadly serious about everything. Said
he felt like he'd lost his sense of humor entirely,
just consumed by the political fight. And his
political stance was pretty clear. Definitely
left leaning. Oh, absolutely. And very vocal.
He publicly hammered the Democratic administration
at the time, specifically President Lyndon B.
Johnson, over Vietnam policy. He wasn't afraid
to name names. And this intensity, this willingness
to call people out. It led to some pretty dramatic
confrontations, didn't it? Like the famous infant
with Bill Cosby. Yeah, that's one of the most
startling anecdotes in Tom's story. The sources
explain that through the 1970s, time was really
critical of entertainers he felt weren't using
their platform to take political stance. He thought
they should be more engaged. Exactly. And he
apparently single out Bill Cosby, who was huge
at the time, for not being more outspoken on
issues like civil rights. Tom saw Cosby's, you
know, more mainstream, less confrontational success
as a kind of silence or even compliance. And
he said this publicly? He mocked Cosby publicly
for it. And it wasn't just a passing comment.
This wasn't like a friendly debate. OK, so how
bad did it get? According to the accounts, Tom's
comments really pissed him Cosby off. Deeply.
The tension just festered for years between them.
And it finally exploded, physically, at a party
at the Playboy Mansion in October 1976. Wait,
physically, you mean? Cosby punched Tom Smothers.
In the head. Get it! Bill Cosby punched Tom Smothers!
That's what the sources say. It's a shocking
moment, right? But it really underscores how
deeply Tom felt about political engagement. He
was willing to provoke, willing to call people
out, even if it led to, well, getting decked
by one of the biggest stars in the world. He
was almost embracing that martyr role for his
ideals. Wow. OK, that that definitely adds a
layer to the gentle folk comedian image. But.
His activism wasn't just about arguments and
getting punched. He also had this really unexpected
connection to the rock and roll counterculture,
right? Absolutely, which is fascinating given
their folk roots. He had this deep connection
to the protest music scene that was exploding
then. He was one of the people introducing acts
at the legendary Monterey Pop Festival in 1967.
Monterey Pop, that was huge. That gave him serious
cred with the younger, more radical generation
and the musicians. For sure, and that credibility
that... involvement naturally led to him befriending
John Lennon. The John Lennon. Yep. And this isn't
just like they met once. If you listen closely
to the recording of Give Peace a Chance, you
know, the one recorded live during John and Yoko's
famous bed in for peace in Montreal. Yeah, iconic
recording. June 1st, 1969. Tom Smothers is on
that recording. He's not just in the room. He's
playing acoustic guitar right alongside John
Lennon. And you can actually hear Lennon shout
out his name in the lyrics. No way. I have to
listen to that again. So he's literally part
of that massive global peace anthem recorded
right at the heart of the movement. Placed him
smack dab in the middle of it. Yeah. A very visible
participant in the international peace movement
at a really critical time. It showed his commitment
went way beyond just fighting CBS. OK, so you've
got the political firebrand, the Lenin collaborator,
but then there's also the yo -yo man. Yeah, the
Yo -Yo Man. Completely different gear. He created
this comedic character in the late 60s. Totally
non -speaking, just doing amazing yo -yo tricks
with his deadpan expression. I remember seeing
that. It was bizarre, but hilarious. Right. He
actually trademarked the name Yo -Yo Man and
used the accolade in their later tours. It was
almost like this necessary escape hatch. Purely
visual physical comedy. A break from all the
intense political and intellectual battles he
was fighting. Makes sense. A moment of pure nonsensical
fun. Now, before we move fully over to Dick,
we absolutely have to talk about the Emmy story.
Because that feels like the ultimate vindication
for Tom. Oh, the Emmy story is fantastic. It
perfectly encapsulates his fight. So, 1969, the
writing staff of the Smothers Brothers Comedy
Hour wins the Emmy Award for Outstanding Writing
in a Comedic Series. Huge achievement. They deserved
it. The writing was groundbreaking. Totally.
But Tom. Tom refused to let them put his name
on the official list of nominees submitted to
the Academy. Why would he do that? He was the
star, the driving force. He was afraid. He genuinely
believed that CBS, who were obviously furious
with him and had just canceled the show, would
lean on the Television Academy to deny the writers
the award if his contentious name was attached
to it. So he took his own name off to protect
his writers. Exactly. It was a protest move.
A statement saying, look, my political dissent
is so radioactive that I fear they'll punish
everyone around me. He felt his contribution
was being effectively erased because of his politics.
That's incredible self -sacrifice, in a way.
But the story has a coda, right? A beautiful
one. Fast forward almost 40 years. 40 years.
To 2008. The Television Academy finally decides
to correct the historical record. The award tom...
a special belated Emmy for his contribution to
that very writing award back in 69. Wow, after
all that time. And get this, the person who presented
him with the honorary Emmy. None other than Steve
Martin. Steve Martin, why him? Because Steve
Martin was one of the young, unknown writers
on that very staff back in 1969 who did get his
name on the original Emmy. No way. That's perfect.
Full circle. Absolutely. The establishment, the
Academy, finally acknowledging the value of the
work and the person they had effectively tried
to sideline decades earlier. It's proof you couldn't
erase his legacy, even by taking his name off
a list. That's a fantastic story. And outside
of all that, he also had a vineyard. Yeah, another
long -term venture. In 1977, he established Remick
Ridge Vineyards up in Sonoma County, California.
Named after his mother's maiden name, remember?
He kept that going for decades, only selling
it in 2023, not long before he passed. Shows
that persistence again, whether it was activism,
comedy, or winemaking. OK, so that's Tom. The
whirlwind. Activist, gymnast, Emmy protester,
Lennon's guitarist, yo -yo man, winemaker. To
really grasp the partnership though, we need
the other poll. We need Dick. The counterpoint.
The essential straight man, in life as much as
on stage. Tom himself nailed it. He described
Dick as, quote, more conservative politically
and also as a pragmatist. He's very pragmatic
and wants everything to line up and put in a
box. That's the absolute Auntie Tom. And Dick's
career outside the duo really reflects that,
doesn't it? He seemed drawn to more structured,
serious roles. Very much so. While Tom was out
battling the establishment, Dick was often playing
establishment figures, or at least working comfortably
within the system. Look at his serious acting
roles. Way back in 66, he played Tweedledee in
a TV movie of Alice Through the Looking Glass.
OK, maybe not establishment, but definitely structured,
following a script. Right. But then look later.
His most striking non -comedic role is probably
in Martin Scorsese's Casino, the 1995 crime epic.
Casino. Who did Dick Smothers play in Casino?
He played Harrison Roberts, a dishonest Nevada
state senator. It's noted as an uncharacteristically
serious role for him. Think about that image.
Dick Smothers, the guy singing folk songs next
to his goofy brother, playing a corrupt politician
in a gritty Scorsese gangster film. That's jarring.
And there was a real -life basis for that character.
Apparently, yeah. The source has mentioned his
character, Senator Roberts, and particularly
some of the dialogue in one key scene were partly
based on the career of Harry Reid. The Harry
Reid, former Senate majority leader who used
to chair the Nevada gaming commission. That's
the one. So Dick wasn't just playing a generic
corrupt politician, he was embodying aspects
of a very real figure within the power structure,
the very kind of system his brother Tom was constantly
railing against. Wow. The contrast is incredible.
And it continued. He later played Judge Harold
Baker in Stephen Soderbergh's 2009 film, The
Informant, playing a judge. OK, yeah, a judge
and a corrupt senator. It's almost like while
Tom was trying to tear down the system, Dick
was busy playing roles within it, understanding
its mechanisms. It's a stunning dissonance when
you put their paths side by side. Tom's getting
punched by Cosby over political inaction, playing
guitar with Lenin for peace. Meanwhile. Dick
is portraying figures of institutional power
in major Hollywood films. He seemed comfortable
with structure, with roles, with the system.
And that embrace of structure, of rules, of pragmatism,
it really comes through in his other great passion,
right? The one that seems totally out of left
field for a Smothers brother. Auto racing. Auto
racing. Not just watching, but participating.
Seriously. Oh, yeah. This is the key differentiator
for Dick's persona outside the act. He wasn't
just a casual fan tinkering in his garage. He
was highly active in amateur auto racing. both
road racing, which requires finesse and strategy,
and drag racing, which is about pure power and
reaction time. And he even had his own team.
He did. He started this mother's brother's racing
team. And they were serious contenders. They
competed properly in three championship seasons
between 1968 and 1971. Right when the comedy
hour was exploding and then imploding, he's dealing
with network censorship fights and managing a
race team. Apparently so. And he specialized
in endurance racing, driving high -performance
cars at famous grueling events like the 12 Hours
of Sebring. Endurance racing. That seems like
the ultimate expression of that pragmatic, structured
personality Tom described. It's not just about
raw speed. It's about meticulous preparation,
precision, reliability, following the rules,
managing resources over a long haul. Absolutely.
Unlike, say, Tom's high -flying gymnastics, which
has that element of improvisation and flair,
endurance racing is about obsessive planning,
engineering tolerances, pit stop strategies,
lap times. Everything has to line up perfectly.
It's the ultimate, put it in a box sport. And
he took it to the highest level, didn't he? Le
Mans. He did. The 24 hours of Le Mans in France,
the absolute pinnacle of endurance racing. He
competed once. OK, we need the details on that.
Competing at Le Mans is serious business. What
happened? It was a major effort. 1972, he drove
a beast of a car, a Chevrolet Corvette C3 for
the John Greenwood racing team. He actually co
-drove with John Greenwood himself, who was a
legendary Corvette racer. A Corvette at Le Mans.
What class were they in? the GTS plus 5 .0 class,
basically the big engine grand touring sports
cars, serious muscle. And the sources confirmed
they managed to complete 53 laps of that incredibly
demanding circuit. 53 laps. OK, but in a 24 hour
race, that usually means. Yeah, they were ultimately
classified as DNF did not finish. Ah, so something
broke or a crash. The records just say DNF, but
with endurance racing, especially back then,
mechanical failure on a heavily stressed car
is the most likely culprit after that many laps.
Still, just getting there, preparing the car,
qualifying, completing 53 laps at Le Mans, that
requires incredible discipline, focus, and, well,
pragmatism. It's the polar opposite of Tom's
chaotic, improvised political activism. Now,
we should also touch on the fact that Dick faced
his own set of public struggles later in life,
but they seemed very different in nature from
Tom's political battles. That's true. While Tom's
big fights were ideological, against institutions
like CBS or the government. Dick's later challenges
were much more personal, tangible. Like what?
Well, there was a widely reported domestic violence
incident in 2004 involving his then -wife Denby.
That led to their divorce being finalized in
2006. And there seemed to be financial fallout,
too. Their condo in Florida was later foreclosed
on and sold for what seemed like a low price,
suggesting financial strain. And that financial
pressure became more public later. It did. In
February 2010, Dick had to file for Chapter 11
bankruptcy protection. That's a major public
declaration of financial difficulty. And then,
adding to it, later that same year, in October
2010, he publicly announced he didn't diagnose
with Barrett's esophagus, which is a serious
precancerous condition. Right. So these are very
real -world problems. Marriage breakdown, financial
ruins, serious health issues. It's a stark contrast
to Tom's fights over censorship or the Vietnam
War. Exactly. It highlights the different ways
life seemed to challenge each of them. Tom battled
abstract powers, censorship, war policy, political
apathy. Dick grappled with the concrete, often
harsh realities of personal finance, relationships,
and health. So we have this incredible picture,
the activist artist versus the conservative racer,
a partnership somehow forged and sustained by
this constant real life contradiction. How did
their joint story finally wind down? Well, they
formally announced their retirement from touring
back in May 2010. They seem to think that was
genuinely it. But they came back, didn't they,
briefly? They did. couldn't quite stay away.
They reunited briefly in 2019, specifically to
mark the 50th anniversary of The Comedy Hour
being canceled. A nice symbolic gesture, still
defiant after all those years. 50 years. And
they even planned another tour after that. They
tried. In December 2022, they announced they
were actually going to go back on the road in
2023. But sadly, that tour had to be canceled
before it began. Tom's health was declining.
Ah, right. And the final chapter for Tom came
not long after that. Tragically, yes. He had
announced in July 2023 that he'd been diagnosed
with stage 2 lung cancer. He passed away from
the disease on December 26, 2023. He was 86.
Died at his home in Santa Rosa, California. a
huge loss for comedy and really for American
culture. And Dick, how is he doing now? Dick
Smothers is still with us. As of recent reports,
he's been living in upstate New York, seems focused
on family and a more private life. He has six
children from his various marriages, Dick Jr.,
Andrew, Stephen, Sarah, Susan, and Rimmick. And
in September 2022, he remarried to Marie Navarroly
Krupp. So looking back at this whole incredible
saga, this four decade partnership, it really
comes back to that insight Tom had, doesn't it?
About the disagreement being the key. It seems
to be the core lesson. Tom himself said their
ability to disagree on literally everything,
politics, personality, philosophy, hobbies, you
name it, was somehow crucial to making the act
work for so long. There were these two opposing
forces, the artist and the pragmatist. By positive
and negative poles. Exactly. And maybe they needed
that tension, that constant push and pull between
them to create the energy, the spark that made
the comedy resonate. Like you need tension on
a guitar string to make music. It really is a
rare example, isn't it? A partnership that seemed
to thrive because of conflict, not just in spite
of it. Absolutely. You had Tom, the dreamer,
the idealist, chasing the First Amendment, hanging
out with John Lennon, fighting the power. And
you had Dick, the grounded one, seeking order
on the racetrack, playing senators and judges
in movies, dealing with the practicalities of
life. Their comedy act was almost just the professional
stage where they managed that genuine deep -seated
philosophical friction between them. So just
to recap the ground we've covered, we went from
their contrasting athletic roots at San Jose
State. The gymnast versus the runner. To that
utterly bizarre apprentice angel sitcom nobody
remembers. A crucial failure in a way. Then Tom's
huge battles over censorship, the cancellation,
the Emmy protests, the political activism, getting
punched by Cosby, playing on Give Peace a chance.
While Dick was carving out this serious acting
career in films like Casino and becoming obsessed
with the precision of endurance auto racing,
even competing at Le Mans. Right, the DNF at
Le Mans. It's just this incredibly rich, almost
unbelievable narrative of contradiction, all
wrapped up in one comedy duo. The duality is
just staggering. It's a remarkable case study
in how completely different temperaments, different
worldviews can actually combine to create something
powerful and lasting, as long as they have some
kind of structure, like their stage act, to contain
and channel that fundamental disagreement. Which
brings us, then, to our final provocative thought
for you, the listener, to mull over. We know
their stage humor was built on this premise.
Tom, the lovable fool, always pushing boundaries,
getting things wrong, and Dick, the sensible
straight man, constantly trying to impose order,
logic, correction. Mom, always like you best.
The classic setup. But now, knowing what we know
from all these sources, that Dick genuinely was
a conservative pragmatist who liked things in
neat boxes, and Tom genuinely was a boundary
-pushing liberal -to -radical activist who thrived
on challenging norms, should we maybe rethink
how we view their act? You mean see it less as
just a performed sibling rivalry. Exactly. Should
we see it less as a simple act and more as a
highly successful professional management of
a real deep philosophical conflict between two
brothers? If their partnership truly was defined
and maybe even fueled by this constant genuine
friction, what does their whole career trajectory
tell us about the nature of compromise or perhaps
the lack of it in creative partnerships that
actually endure?