In the summer of 2009, my brother and I developed a questionable tradition when it came time to inform each other that a well-known public figure had died.
We would simply text or message each other, “Michael Jackson died,” and leave it to the other to hop on the Internet or turn on the TV to see which celebrity met his or her demise.
I don’t know how it wound up that way, but not a single newsworthy death has gone by since where “Michael Jackson” hasn’t died.
On Saturday morning, I woke up to one of those dreaded messages and didn’t need to look far across the Web to learn that Andy Rooney died at the age of 92.
I’m none too keen on getting distraught about the deaths of celebrities. They come, they go, and sure we’ll miss their work, but we never fostered a personal connection with these people. But the passing of Andy Rooney has left me searching for my usual stoic self.
In the last 33 years, Andy Rooney appeared on “60 Minutes” a total of 1,097 times to provide banter on things big and small, from the most pressing social issues to life’s most ordinary minutia.
Rooney was a champion of his art. He was a great American humorist and so many contemporary comedians and writers owe their style in some way to him. He made mountains out of molehills the way nobody else could.
Just think about the state of contemporary comedy. Comedians who rely on toilet humor are being crowded out by those who make an audience laugh through witty social commentary — or at least a happy hybrid of the two. And nobody provided social commentary in a manner or style quite like Rooney.
Rooney wasn’t just a bushy-eyebrowed curmudgeon who sat behind a desk and bitched about life’s pet peeves. He tackled situations he knew the average American already took issue with, and made his audience realize the subject had substance by presenting it in a funny, new, interesting way.
He was a writer’s writer, and perhaps that’s why I’m compelled to author this tribute to him. I don’t know if the general public, especially our generation, understands his societal impact. Why am I paying tribute to him, but not someone like Steve Jobs, who died young and made a much more tangible impact on society?
It’s because Rooney changed the way we look at our everyday lives, whether we realize it or not, and the fact that he did not die young only accentuates the sadness of his death. Rooney fought in World War II, compared the death of Osama bin Laden to Hitler, drew on Calvin Coolidge’s inauguration when talking about Obama’s — he had the life experience to share commentary in the context of history.
It’s only more of a shame when someone with such an enriching life, someone with so many stories to tell, has left us.