It was introduced like a calm, educational moment:
“Here’s Dr. Lendon Smith, pediatrician, TV health expert, host of House Calls…”
Within 90 seconds, he’d blamed bad behavior on fathers’ genes, declared mothers god-ordained prophets, invented a tickle-torture pole for schools, and casually suggested most doctors are just paid peeping toms.
Somewhere in the middle of that whirlwind, Richard Pryor and Tim Conway stopped being guests… and became survivors.
Step 1: Praise Women. Step 2: Terrify Everyone.
The doctor starts strong: quoting Lord Trimingham and announcing the golden rule of pediatrics:
“The lady is never wrong.”
Translation: if a mother says “my kid is sick,” your job as a pediatrician is to find something wrong —
or make something wrong —
or at least discover pinworms.
Because if you tell her the kid is fine?
She goes to another doctor.
And that’s “bad for business.”
This is the first time in TV history someone explained medicine as:
10% science 20% instinct 70% “don’t lose the customer.”
Portland Is Frozen, Marriage Counseling Is Free, and Flu Is Forever 
Then, without warning, he swerves into a weather report. Portland is apparently encased in ice, the family is huddled around a strange “package that doesn’t burn well,” and his wife has a revelation:
“We’re talking… because usually we’re just watching TV or complaining.”
Nothing like subzero temperatures to force couples into actual conversation.
Johnny tries to steer it toward medicine: What’s new in medicine?
The doctor cheerfully announces:
“We’ve got a flu going around that you wouldn’t believe.”
Russian flu, Portland flu, rugby flu — doesn’t matter. It’s all the same:
-
high fever
-
headache
-
eyeballs hurt
-
ten days of misery
-
seven days of barking cough
And the cure?
“There’s nothing you can do to shorten it.”
Thank you, and good night, America.
The World’s Worst (But Strangely Effective) Cough Syrup 
Then he casually describes his home cough remedy:
-
gin
-
lemon juice
-
honey
When they ran out, he upgraded to:
-
bourbon
-
antihistamine
-
molasses
The kids took one taste, and it was so awful they never complained again.
Medical strategy:
Either cure the cough…
or make the medicine so horrific the kids are too scared to cough in your direction ever again.
Meanwhile, Richard Pryor Is Hanging On by a Thread 
Johnny tries to involve Pryor:
“Do your kids have any ills?”
Richard bravely starts a sentence about blue-eyed kids and grandmothers… and then it collapses into pure nonsense and giggles.
By now, the doctor is off on another theory:
People who end up “like this” (he gestures to Tim & Richard) were probably extremely ticklish as children.
Tim Conway, deadpan:
“I’m doing some research… on people that end up as they have…”
Audience: 
Pryor: barely breathing.
The Tickle Test That Would Get You Fired in Every School on Earth 
The doctor proudly unveils his educational invention:
a long pole with feathers on it to identify “hypersensitive” kids who will cause trouble in school.
Day one of class, in his fantasy:
-
The kids all lie down on the floor
-
Preferably naked (his words, not ours
) -
The teacher lowers the feather pole
-
The first ones to crack up are the problem children
Somewhere, a school district attorney woke up in a cold sweat and didn’t know why.
Tim and Richard are gone at this point.
The audience is screaming.
Johnny is doing that quiet lean-back laugh where he looks like he’s reconsidering the booking process.
Vitamin C, Blue Children, and “I Don’t Do Very Well”
The doctor tries to get serious again with vitamin C and natural health.
Can you take too much?
Sure. One mother’s kid kept throwing it up “as fast as she could get it down,” but at least she was doing something.
Then we hit the peak of chaos:
Johnny asks how a parent would know if a child is turning blue.
The doctor says he can see rashes even on dark skin and admits:
“I don’t do very well…”
And the audience detonates.
Richard Pryor practically folds in half.
Tim Conway is gone.
You can actually feel the moment where this stops being a talk-show segment and becomes a hostage comedy situation.
“Most Doctors Are Peeping Toms… and They Get Paid for It” 
Johnny tries one last serious question:
Is it better to examine children without the parents present?
The doctor gives a normal answer… at first. Parents in the room, less fear, less crying, all very wholesome.
Then:
“Most doctors go into medicine because they’re peeping toms… and they get paid.”
That’s it.
No coming back from that.
If you listen carefully, you can hear every malpractice lawyer in America sit up and whisper:
“Run that again.”
Why This Segment Is Pure, Uncut Comedy Chaos
Nothing here was written as a sketch.
Nobody rolled out a prop trunk.
There were no wigs, no costumes, no punchline cue cards.
Just:
-
One pediatrician who talks like a runaway train
-
Richard Pryor, trying and failing to function
-
Tim Conway, quietly weaponizing his reactions
-
Johnny Carson, hanging onto the desk for dear life
The doctor thinks he’s giving health advice.
What he actually delivers is one of the greatest unintentional comedy clinics in late-night history.
Flu, feathers, bourbon cough syrup, peeping tom doctors, blue kids, ticklish futures — it all just… pours out of him.
And somewhere in the middle of that beautiful medical train wreck, Tim Conway and Richard Pryor do what they do best:
They lose it.
Completely.
And we get exactly what late-night TV was invented for:
Not information.
Not structure.
Just the sound of funny people trying — and failing — to keep a straight face while reality goes wonderfully, gloriously off the rails.
