Yesterday afternoon, I attended a memorial service for a wonderful creature named Hamilton Camp who passed away recently. The speeches, turnout and a nice clip montage (edited by Vince Waldron) reminded us all of how many things Hamilton did well. He was an actor, a singer, a composer, an acting teacher, a voiceover specialist, et cetera, et cetera…
Just the singing part of his life got him into several Halls of Fame. I have a friend who, once a year, hosts a party at his home for some folk-singing organization. A couple hundred members, amateur and professional, descend on his place for a big Pot Luck supper and after that's done with, most of them haul out guitars and entertain each other, as well as any folks like me who are in attendance. I missed this year's and wish I'd been there because Hamilton was an invited guest. My friend told me that when Mr. Camp walked in, it was like someone was hosting a rock 'n' roll party and Elvis put in an appearance. Hamilton was mobbed by people telling him that they'd taken up folk singing because of the work of Gibson and Camp, the folk-singing duo that he had with Bob Gibson in the sixties. And then everyone was eager to play for him and to get some words of approval from The Master. My friend said that Hamilton was genuinely amazed and moved by the reception.
This was about three weeks before he died.
If he was somehow able to listen in on the tributes yesterday afternoon at the Improv in Hollywood, he has a further idea of how much he meant to so many. The place was packed with most of the legends of the world of improv comedy. The speakers included Paul Sills, Chuck McCann, Richard Benjamin and Paula Prentiss, Howard Hesseman, Alan Myerson, Mina Kolb, Carl Gottlieb, Paul Willson, Larry Hankin and many more. Some wonderful stories there. Some wonderful memories of Hamilton.
Now, I probably shouldn't write what follows because it may offend some folks, but I think it would offend me more if I didn't. The memorial for Hamilton ran over three hours, close to three and a half. If you'd cut out all the self-promotion and rambling tales that had little to do with the dead guy, it would have been a terrific ninety minutes.
I go to a fair number of memorial services. There's always at least one speaker who seizes on the opportunity of a microphone and a semi-captive audience. Sometimes, they talk endlessly about themselves and drop in token mentions of the departed. Other times, they actually mention the deceased but it's primarily to say how much the deceased loved them and their work, how much they did for the deceased…even how much their upcoming projects will be impacted by the loss of the deceased. There were several this afternoon and at two or three points, I had to resist the urge to leap to my feet and shout, "It's not about you!"
Perhaps this bugs me more than it should…but collectively, these people have made some memorial services quite uncomfortable for those who wish to honor the departed and not walk out on his wake. You'd like to stay 'til the end and perhaps say something to the family…but the long, self-serving speeches make that impossible. I went to one memorial service last year where a gent who barely knew the deceased went on and on, mostly about his own life and career, making the afternoon so long that many attendees had to leave in mid-memorial. Several of those who followed him had personal, real things to say about the fellow who'd died…and by the time they reached the rostrum, they felt the room was growing restless and that they had to rush their remarks. It was especially sad because the deceased's son and widow were the final speakers and when they finally got up there, half the audience had gone and those of us who toughed it out were squirming in our seats.
Hamilton Camp would have been deeply moved by about 85% of what was said yesterday in remembrance of him. About the balance, I suspect he'd have yelled what I almost yelled. One of the things that made him so exceptional as a performer was his impeccable sense of timing. He never bored you and his songs always had something appropriate to say. I wish a couple of his acquaintances had learned more from him than they apparently did.