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December 28, 2005
2005 In Review: 12 I'll Miss Most
I'm officially joining the end-of-year, let's-review-the-year that has just passed bandwagon, now that there are only three days left in the year. I'll start with the morbidity, and review those who died in the past 12 months. Don't get me wrong, every death is a sad thing and of course everybody will be missed by somebody... but these twelve were the ones I think I'll miss most of all. And for heaven's sake, I'm not value-judging anyone's contributions or saying what they gave is any better or more significant than anyone else... just that I'm going to miss them more, perhaps. (It's 12 because I lack the discipline to narrow it down to 10.) My top three are here on this page; for the other nine, click through below.
3. Peter Jennings. I was always an NBC guy myself. But Jennings was one of those voices and faces who seemed to always have been there, a voice of authority and yet commonality who talked us through some of the most dramatic moments of the last 35 years. Rather resigned and Brokaw retired; they were the lucky ones. Peter Jennings deserved better than he got. His death in August marked the passing of an era.
2. Richard Pryor It wasn't just that he was funny; there were other funny people before him. It was that he was fearless. Richard Pryor found the hysterical humor in the unfunniest moments and elements of our characters; he forced us to confront the things we were uncomfortable with by making us laugh at them. His impact on stand-up comedy was profound, and it was permanent. Many made us laugh before him, and many have made us laugh since him -- but no one made us laugh like him. He left us in December at 65.
1. Johnny Carson. Carson was never the funniest comedian in the business. But he never had to be. He was funny, certainly... but the reason we invited him into our homes, into our bedrooms every night for 30 years was because he was more than funny -- he was charming, and genuine, and real. He made us laugh when his jokes worked, but he made us laugh harder when they didn't. He was the epitome of making a bad situation good -- put him on national TV with a joke that tanked, and he could react in a way that was much funnier than the original joke. He was a gracious host, an entertaining personality, and generations of Americans watched him before going to sleep. His presence on late night television has never been replaced, and when he died it left a tangible void in our collective hearts. Johnny Carson died in January at 80. Good night, Johnny -- and thank you.
4. Rosa Parks She wasn't the first to take a stand against the racist bus policy in Montgomery, Alabama -- and she benefitted from having friends in high places who could make her a cause celebre. But Rosa Parks was the kind of woman who had the strength to stand -- or, more appropriately, sit -- as the face of civil rights resistance, to deal with the hatred that she faced, to set the dignified example she set... and to become the leader she became even after that first moment of defiance and justice. Rosa Parks was the kind of person we should all want to be. And when she died in October at 92, she left the world a much better place than when she came to it. That's saying something.
5. Arthur Miller "The Crucible" is a damning indictment of McCarthyism -- and someone ought to get the bright idea to re-do The Crucible as an allegory for what the Bush-Cheney-Rove-Coulter-DeLay crowd has tried to do to America and American society in the last five to six years. But Arthur Miller's magnum opus was "Death of a Salesman," which still stands as the ultimate expression, I think, of the reality of the American Dream: a sad mirage for most, yet nobility comes from its pursuit and not its attainment. The single best production I've ever seen on Broadway was the revival of "Salesman" in 1999 starring Brian Dennehy - the entire audience was moved to audible sobs. Miller, the greatest playwright of his generation, died in February at 89.
6. Paul Winchell Don't know him? Think again. Click here, and then tell me you never heard him. The Winnie The Pooh cartoons were my absolute favorite when I was a kid, and though I loved Eeyore the most (and still do), Tigger was irrepressible. No one will ever replace that original voice and the life he brought to the bouncy tiger. Winchell died in June at 82.
7, John Spencer Not only was he Leo McGarry, the wizened chief of staff for the president America wishes we'd had over the last five years, but Spencer played a pivotal role in "The Negotiator," which is on my list of top ten most underrated movies. Spencer died just two weeks ago of a heart attack; he was 58.
8. Sam Mills. A walking example to anyone who's ever been told they couldn't do something, Mills was supposed to be too small and too slow to play linebacker in the NFL. All he did was become a five time Pro Bowl linebacker and one of the best of his decade. You can't measure heart or guts on a chart, but somehow you always know who has it. Mills died in April after a long battle with intestinal cancer; he was only 45.
9. Simon Wiesenthal. The tireless champion of justice served taught us that neither time nor the desire to forget can absolve us from the need to do what is right. Adolf Eichmann and dozens of others were brought to justice through Wiesenthal's courageous efforts. I hope that I someday have a fraction of this man's dedication. Wiesenthal died in June at 96.
10. Ossie Davis. He wasn't just an extremely talented actor; he was a powerful and dignified voice for civil rights from the earliest days of the movement. Davis could bring gravitas and dignity to any role -- especially the one he played in life. His talent moved us, but his passion and beliefs changed us. Davis died in February at 87.
11. Anne Bancroft She was great in "The Miracle Worker," but of course everyone will remember Anne Bancroft for being Mrs. Robinson. And how can we not pay homage to the woman who set the standard for the older woman fantasy? (Of course, we all know my history goes in the other direction, but that's why they call it a fantasy.) Bancroft died in June at 73,
12. Don Adams. Not because of "Get Smart" -- I'm not at all a fan of Mel Brooks humor, I find it obvious and uncreative -- but because Don Adams was the voice of Tennessee Tuxedo, who was one of the staples in my cartoon diet as a kid in the 70s (UHF syndication rocked!). Adams died in September at 82.
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