The Essayist's Essayist

Thirty-three years and 1,097 commentaries, the last one just a month ago at the age of 92.

Andy Rooney has left us now. He has left us with many memories and many smiles. I often wonder how many people watched the TV news magazine "60 Minutes" mostly because of him. One indication was what happened in 1990, when he made an ill-considered remark about homosexual unions (for which he subsequently issued a public apology). CBS suspended him from the program and in short order lost 20% of its audience.

"A Few Minutes with Andy Rooney" was launched in 1978 as a summer replacement for the short political debate segment called "Point/Counterpoint." A year later the debate segment was gone. This might be an object lesson about the hazards of allowing yourself to be replaced temporarily.

Rooney's subject matter was sometimes trivial and usually whimsical. His presentation was most commonly charming, delivered with a twinkle in the eye, and almost always successful in bringing a smile to his viewers. His essays were of the best form, working well both in print and on the screen.

They have been published in book form as collections. When I read them to myself, I can see and hear Mr. Rooney reading them to me on camera. No doubt when he wrote them, this is exactly what he had in mind. Far too few writers nowadays pay attention to this essential feature of the written word. What will it sound like to my audience when they read it "aloud" in their minds?

One of the things I liked most about Andy Rooney was that he recognized and admitted personal error. The 1990 episode in which he learned how misguided was his remark about homosexual unions was a well-noted example. More meaningful to me, however, was what he learned about war from his experiences as a correspondent during World War II. He was a journalist for Stars and Stripes, the army newspaper, and later wrote a memoir, My War (1995), about his years as a war correspondent. Rooney had been a pacifist and was opposed to America's entry into the war, although he had not sought to avoid service when he was drafted in 1941. But near the end of World War II he was among the first American journalists to enter Nazi concentration camps, and what he saw there forever changed his views on whether there can be such a thing as a just war.

I also liked the fact that he was willing to be politically incorrect without worrying too much about offending people. I agreed with him fully when he said it was "silly" for Native Americans to complain about team names like the Washington Redskins. I'm not sure exactly why he thought that, but I can tell you why I did. With serious social and medical problems like unemployment, alcoholism, tuberculosis, and sudden infant death syndrome all occurring at rates much higher than in the general population, I've always thought the tribal nations had more important things with which to concern themselves.

In the six months since I began putting my thoughts on my computer screen for the essays in this blog, I have occasionally thought that perhaps some day people will be as interested in what I have to say as they have been in the musings of Mr. Rooney. A lofty goal, and quite possibly far out of reach. But his first "few minutes" on "60 Minutes" came when he was older than I am now, so I can dream.

In Rooney's last "few minutes" a month ago he told viewers, "Not many people in this world are as lucky as I have been. All this time I've been paid to say what is on my mind on television. You don't get any luckier in life than that." This reminded me of the Confucian saying, “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” The fact that Andy was still doing that job in his tenth decade says it all.

For those who prefer the television format, I suggest the DVDs released by CBS in 2006 (three of them, available on Amazon and elsewhere), which offer an excellent collection of his later essays. For fans such as I, who like to read his work and who can see him and hear him as we read, I suggest the 2003 collection, Years of Minutes.

Thank you, Mr. Rooney, for thirty-three years of thought-provoking commentary.