Conan and Jay on the Rewind

And The Writers' Strike is finally over. (I felt the need to write it as a proper noun--it's become such a phenomenon over the past months, as most everyone will agree, and considering the effect it had on the American entertainment industry).

The great Conan O'Brien, without his writers but armed with his Harvard degree in History and Literature, managed to make do with slapstick, stupidly innovative gadgets and laughter-inducing brouhaha. His ever-reliable wit, not to mention his tall, lanky frame and cartoonish face crowned with that pompadour-like red hair, pocked with those beady eyes, that longish nose and those strip-thin lips (I have a feeling that one day, not long ago, he suddenly had this urge to strip off his mouth and sketch on a new pair of lips!) got him through those trying times.

And Jay Leno, undoubtedly my favorite among the three late night talk show hosts (I'm not much for David Letterman--there's simply too much sarcasm in his humor that leaves a sour taste), remained his old, hefty, understatedly funny self. He didn't have to resort (much)to antics and stuff; though without Conan's comical looks, his, uhm, sizeable chin and spectacularly down-to-earth (oxymoron, anyone?) way of delivering his punch-lines more than made up for the absence of the organized script.

So these two hosts have yet again proven that they are forces to contend with, and that they could stand on their own, much to the satisfaction of the late night talk show addict.