Thank you, Andy Rooney

This is a very sad day. Rooney is one of my favorite writers, and I’m not afraid to say that. I don’t mean it ironically or in a “laughing at him” sort of way. The guy is a great writer: clean, uncomplicated, wise, and funny. A lot of people only know Rooney from his 60 Minutes essays, and while I think that’s more than enough material to realize that the guy is a great writer, people might just think of him as “that guy from TV” and not understand that he’s done a lot more than that. He’s written 16 books, including a terrific memoir of his time spent reporting overseas during World War II (My War) and books of essays.

But there’s another side to Rooney too — a side beyond the writing — and it’s the reason I love him so much. If you only know him from TV, and you’re willing to just go with that whole “You ever wonder….” impersonation cliche and not really think about Rooney any more than that, you don’t know that he and his wife raised four great kids. You don’t know that he was married only once, to Margie, for 62 years, and after she died in 2004 it hurt him so much he cried himself to sleep and couldn’t even type her name in columns anymore. You don’t know that he served in World War II and wrote for The Stars and Stripes and saw the horrors of war. You don’t know that 60 Minutes wasn’t his only TV writing job — he actually started in the 1940s and worked for such people as Arthur Godfrey and Harry Reasoner and wrote for shows over the years.

What has always struck me the most about Rooney is how normal and average he is, and I mean that as a compliment (that’s another thing the snarky writers at Gawker and The AV Club will never understand — normal and average can be a good thing). He is probably the most famous, “normal” person in the world. A guy whose face and name are instantly recognizable, even though he never does interviews, doesn’t live in Hollywood, andvnever dated the rich and famous. The only scandals he has been involved in were actually rather minor if you look back on them. In the ’90s he said that he didn’t agree with the gay lifestyle, and after Kurt Cobain’s suicide he talked about how he couldn’t understand why young people were so upset by the death of Kurt Cobain and that he’d love to be that age again. He also hated the term “African-American” instead of “black.” But these weren’t opinions born of hate or ignorance or uncaring, some rancid political or social agenda Rooney was trying to push on us. They were opinions based on the generation Rooney is from.

There’s a lot of people to hate in the world of television and publishing and media. But Andy Rooney? How the hell could anyone hate Andy Rooney? Think about it: what the hell did Rooney do to deserve this much bile? Is he wrecking cars on the highway? Is he stealing money or firing employees? Is he beating up hookers in hotel rooms? Is he selling drugs to minors? Is he flipping out and attacking TMZ cameramen? He’s a great-grandfather who keeps to himself and works in his woodshop and makes ice cream and has an innocuous three minute segment on a TV show – the most popular segment, incidentally, the ratings go down when he’s not on – where he talks about what’s on his mind (hey Gawker, almost like a blog!). One day the writers of Gawker are going to be in their 70s and 80s and 90s, replaced by robots that hit all of the snarky keywords and post the latest gossip about Lindsey Lohan’s great-grandchildren, and they’re going to have big eyebrows or a hand shake or imperfect facial features or boxes filled with memories. And, unlike Rooney, no one is going to remember anything they did in the 2000s. Because they were just the shit stains that posted insults on a blog, and everyone did that at the time. It was so easy.

Actually, for someone who works on one of the top TV shows of all-time and is a rather iconic figure, he actually seems like a decent, regular guy. Isn’t that something that should be celebrated?

In a 1995 interview with PBS’ Charlie Rose, Rose called him a “star” in his introduction, a term Rooney truly disliked: He told Rose, “a writer is all the ‘star’ I wanted to be.” As a writer I know exactly what he means, and I hope that I can have a tenth of the career that Andy Rooney has had. He not only taught me how to write, he also taught me in a big way how to live. Thanks Andy.

Clacked by Bob Sassone
on Sep 28, 2011 @ 14:47 EST5EDT