Photo Credit: Jay Johnson
Who are you calling a dummy?

But that doesn't mean Johnson's sleep doesn't always go uninterrupted.

"The nightmare I have continually is that I get separated from my suitcases that (the puppets) are in," he confides. "I don't have the guys and we're supposed to go on . . . I've had that dream forever and ever and ever."

Never fear, though: Johnson takes great pains to ensure that he never parts ways with his beloved puppets — out of respect, we'll refrain from calling them dummies — which include Bob, Squeaky and Darwin the monkey.

"I carry everything that is absolutely irreplaceable on (the plane/train/automobile) with me," he explains.

You may recognize Johnson — if not him, then certainly his outspoken puppet, Bob — from the groundbreaking '70s television sitcom "Soap," in which he played Chuck and Bob Campbell. Last year, he appeared (sans Bob) in "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" as the ventriloquist father of the morbid miniature killer.

Johnson, 58, brings his Tony Award-winning production, "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only!" to Princeton's McCarter Theatre Center on Friday. The show, which garnered rave reviews when it appeared on Broadway in 2006, takes a look at the history of ventriloquism and recounts Johnson's passion for the art, which began when he was a young child. In addition to Bob, audiences are introduced to his first puppet, the sweet Squeaky, which was handcrafted for him by his mentor, as well as Nethernore the bird and Darwin the monkey, to name but a few.

Squeaky's personality, in particular, is the polar opposite of Bob, who is known for his acidic wit and quick put-downs. Considering that, as well as the fact that Squeaky lost out on the "Soap" gig to Bob, was Johnson concerned that there would be friction on "The Two and Only!" set?

"They're contractually obligated now to get along," he says of the pair. Still, that doesn't mean things always were so agreeable.

"(Squeaky) was not in my original script," he admits. "I always assumed in my mind that Squeaky had morphed into Bob."

Johnson says it was his friend, "Soap" director Jay Sandrich, who convinced him to feature Squeaky in the show, too.

"I said, "I don't know how to do that because they're so similar,' " Johnson recalls. "(Sandrich) said, "I think you'll find that they're not similar at all if you get them together.' He was right — he was definitely right."

While Johnson allows that his puppets comprise "facets of my psyche," he says Darwin provides him a much-needed outlet.

"(He's) so wild and says a million things," he says. "I talk about him as my therapy."

Speaking of which, Johnson says ventriloquist puppets have a long history of getting away with saying things that people cannot.

"The original Punch and Judy show was written to protest the treatment of the king to the people," he points out. "There was no rule against a puppet speaking out against a government. (Ventriloquism) has a very long tradition of being the outlet for a lot of inward feelings."

Although Johnson says that he's never gotten angry at anything his puppets have uttered, he has, on occasion, been surprised by what's come out of their mouths.

"It was (more) embarrassment," he says. "It was like, "Oh, my God, that's gone too far. That's not something I want to be known as having said.'

"Although that sounds very schizophrenic . . . I think it's part of that creative process."

Johnson says his dual status as ventriloquist and puppet tends to confound some people, just as it did the suits at "Soap" when it came to merchandising products to promote the show.

"I went to them one day and said, "What if they put Bob's face on a lunch box? Does that (money) go back to me?' And they really had to go back to the lawyers," he says, laughing. "(They eventually determined that) I played the character of Chuck (slash) Bob, and the actor couldn't be separated from either one of these characters. But it had to go to the lawyers."

Another time, Johnson says his attempt to do a game show with Bob for charity went a little haywire. The setup for the show was simple: Johnson and actress Betty White would feed clues to Bob, who, for laughs, would get all of the answers wrong.

"(The producer) said, for example, "What do you sit on?' The word will be "chair' and (Bob) will say "knee.' And "What does a doctor use to cut you open?' He'll say "saw.'

"They start the show, and the guy stops us and says, "Is Jay looking at the clues?' "Yeah, yeah, he's going to be the clue giver.' "If Jay is looking at the clues, won't Bob know what they are?' "Of course,' the producer says. "Of course he will.' Then they said, "I'm sorry, you can't do that. That's cheating.' "

But it didn't end there. It was then suggested that Johnson be the contestant and Bob the clue-giver.

"Then they pointed out that Bob couldn't see the clues," he says. "Then they said, "Well, you just can't do it.' It's funny now, but at the time we were pulling our hair out."

Occasions like these reminded Johnson of exactly how much people buy Bob as being real.

"People that believe in the reality of Bob — and that's ultimately what you want, you want them to believe in that character — (but) then when they do, it's always shocking," he explains.

And then there are those who treat Bob like he's a little too, well, human.

"It's kind of hard to say you could ever get jealous of something you're doing," he concedes. "What upsets me sometimes is that people will say, "We want you to do this part' (or), "We want you to come to this party — and please bring Bob.' As if I'm not validated enough (that) I can't speak without Bob (or) I can't talk (or) I can't be gracious and they won't enjoy my company if Bob's not there.

"I'm not sure if that's my problem or their problem."