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PAT: Sadly, or maybe mercifully, last night was Larry King's final night of broadcast. And beautifully Katie Couric marked the occasion with a heartfelt poem that I feel really quite compelled to share.
KATIE: I decided, Larry, that I was going to write you a poem bemoaning the fact that you're leaving your home. What are we to do without our top talker? Here's an ode filled with love from me and Miss Walker as you hang up your suspenders on your dressing room door, I speak for us all when I say we want more, more of the show that we instantly loved for 25 years couldn't get enough of. Your unique take on politics, culture and crime, never cutting off guests, except for Barbara, always giving them time. You made NAFTA exciting, and that's hard to do. And you scored Paris Hilton's post-jail interview.
PAT: And gave me the flu.
KATIE: Sinatra, Clint Eastwood, Becall, so many stars I just can't name them all. From Heather Mills' legs to Ross Perot's twang, you always cajole, not harass or harangue, but there were moments when your guests had a cow, Seinfeld wasn't cancelled, Larry, but I guess you know that by now.
PAT: I doubt it.
KATIE: Mike Tyson KO'd without throwing a punch. And you got Miss California's sash in a bunch. You went gaga for Gaga, Sharon Stone, Janet Jackson, alas it was Brando who gave you some action. Eight presidents joined you from Nixon to Obama and you brought us each moment of OJ's long drama. Some startling shows I'll never forget. Tammy Fay's eyes. Ted Haggard's regret. Your guests made us cry, made us laugh, made us think. Winona Judd told you about a podwink. I hadn't heard that before, so I looked the phrase up, it's a miracle, blessing, an overfilled cup. That's what you are. And as Old Blue Eyes might say: The best is yet to come, Larry. You did it your way.
PAT: Ah, that was beautiful. That moved me deeply. And really, really honestly did. It was reminiscent -- it was a poem given in a fashion reminiscent of not Genghis Khan, as John Kerry would say, more reminiscent of Al Gore on that fine day.
GORE: One thin September soon A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun Vapors rise as Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune's bones dissolve Snow glides from the mountain Ice fathers floods for a season A hard rain comes quickly Then dirt is parched Kindling is placed in the forest For the lightning's celebration
Couric: An ode, to the King
Unknown creatures Take their leave, unmourned Horsemen ready their stirrups Passion seeks heroes and friends The bell of the city
On the hill is rung The shepherd cries The hour of choosing has arrived Here are your tools.
JEFF: I'm so glad you read that.
PAT: Me too.
JEFF: I'm happy to hear it.
PAT: Me too.
PAT: Best part of the whole thing.
JEFF: I'm so glad you read that poem.
PAT: Us, too, Harry, us, too. It has added 365 days of joy to this program. Neptunes bone dissolve.
JEFF: I am so glad you read that.
PAT: Yep, we all are. You know, tis the season for an Al Gore poem, really. But this isn't -- that's probably a little too obnoxious for this. We need something more generic. Maybe something like this, for another Al Gore poem. [Music] it was the night before Christmas, when all through the energy efficient solar-paneled house not a creature was stirring, because humankind had killed them all with manmade global warming brought on by our ways. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. But we dare not light a fire, children, because of the damage the smoke could do to our atmosphere and the trees. The trees. The children were nestled all snug in their beds that were filled with biodegradeable 100 percent recycled material, and the only lights a twinkling were of the CFL energy saving variety no incandescents here. While visions of sugar free trans fat free healthy fruits and vegetables danced in their heads, with Tipper in her kerchief and I in my earth-friendly Green Peace logoed cap, we had just settled in for a long winter's nap. To rest my wary planet-loving body before it dissolves the way Neptune's bones did [music] I still have it. I hit those vocals every time. I still have it top 40 --
JEFF: I'm so glad you read that.
PAT: Thank you. You are -- thank you, Jeffie. Thank you, in my own voice there, yes. I think it was pretty safe. And I think it was pretty -- I think it was pretty Christmassy, and I think it was pretty touching, I think it was pretty meaningful.
JEFF: It was beautiful, thank you again.