So, you heard the news. No, not that news. That’s new old news and a welcome relief from the oppressiveness of the bad news past four plus years. I speak of the other news that broke after the big old new news. Henry Aaron, one of the greatest baseball players of all-time passed away, followed the next day by Larry King, a groundbreaking, garrulous interviewer.
I was reminded once again how these people who are part of our collective experiences for so many years and decades then vanish with nary a trace save for the obituaries and outpouring of remembrances and, occasionally, TV tributes. They were here, now they are gone.
We turn the page ...
I didn’t know either of these gentlemen personally, yet each had a very real influence on my life. I wonder if the famous (as I like to call the famous) are endowed with visceral awareness of the impact they had on so many lives of people they never met when they travel to the Great Beyond? And by Great Beyond I mean the afterlife (whatever that is), not Bakersfield (whatever that is).
I was surprisingly moved by both deaths. I grew up idolizing Willie Mays (well, who didn’t?) with Aaron not really much on my radar until he started inching closer to breaking Babe Ruth’s seemingly untouchable record of 714 home runs. Then I started paying closer attention.
Looking at Aaron, he wasn’t overwhelming. He didn’t have the flair, the gusto or style of Mays. He didn’t have the Redwood tree trunk arms of Willie McCovey. He didn’t ever seem to break a sweat on the field. Extremely hard to do when you play in Atlanta where the humidity makes the summer air as thick as a sopping wet flannel blanket. And not the good kind of sopping wet.
He loped, he didn’t dash. He swung with ease, not out of his shoes. He did not boast, he did not brag. He did his job. And then some.
Stories abound about the stacks of hate mail and death threats he received when approaching the Babe’s record. Many white folks could not bear to see their idol (a drinking, gambling, womanizing glutton of an idol, but an idol nonetheless) have his record broken by an uppity Black man. A steady, easy-going, strong, compassionate, inspiring Black man at that.
My how times have … never mind.
The legacy of Hammerin’ Hank (is that a great nickname or what?) really hit home (no pun intended) when I lived in the south for a number of years on the 80s and 90s. That’s 1980s and 90s. WTBS carried every single Atlanta Braves games. Bless their little southern hearts. I would stay up late to watch the Braves play the Giants in San Francisco. I attended many Braves games in person. This was when they were just starting to get good again, so I could frequently grab a seat behind home plate for about $20. On the broadcasts and in the stadium, Aaron was everywhere. Despite his omnipresence, I believe there never has there been a quieter superstar.
He did it all, ran, fielded, hit for power, hit for average, and somehow seemed to earn the respect of everyone who watched him (save the aforementioned white jackoffs) and everyone who played with or against him. I stated carrying him close to my baseball heart along with Mays and McCovey, Tom Saver and Chris Spier (don’t ask).
Barry Bonds may technically have more homers, but Hammerin’ Hank is now and forever the true Home Run King. I hear there is a move afoot to rename the Atlanta Braves the Atlanta Hammers. I love it. C’mon Atlanta, do it! You can, with one powerful, graceful swing a la Aaron, retire a racially offensive name and finally get rid of that stomach wrenching inane tomahawk chop and chant.
Interestingly, there is a link, albeit a tenuous one, between Aaron and Larry King –
Ted Turner of all people, who founded not only CNN which served as Larry King’s national platform and WTBS, he also managed to marry Jane Fonda, she of Barbarella fame. I admit that was a cheap excuse to work in a Barbarella reference.
I was living in the South when Larry began his nightly CNN show, creatively entitled Larry King Live. I can guarantee you a 12-person subcommittee brainstormed for days until they came up with that gem. I would watch Larry fairly regularly and was struck by his lack of pretense. They say he never prepared for an interview and never read the book whose author he was interviewing. Believe me, it showed. But not in the “Jeez, what a jackass interviewer, he doesn’t know anything about what he is talking about!” way. For him, inexplicably, it worked. All of it – his ordinary guy looks, his raspy voice, his suspenders and rolled up sleeves, his shameless fawning. Decidedly not a hold-their-feet-to-the-fire type of guy, he asked questions I would ask: “What’s your book about? Why did you write it? Is that mustard on your tie?”
He also wrote a column for USA Today (colorful but shallow, it is the journalistic equivalent of Cyndi Lauper) called “My Two Cents …” It was quintessential Larry King – mostly an array of random, unconnected thoughts and fairly shallow observations broken up by ellipses. As an homage, I will do the rest of this blog in that format. Those of you of a certain age (re: old) will recognize the look …
So, how about that ageless wonder Tom Brady? … you think Dr. Jill Biden will ever wear a coat with writing on the back? … is it just me or are county fair corndogs the best corndogs ever? … look up the word classy in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of Tom Hanks … what’s with the kids and their air buds? Thought that was a movie about a football playing dog … you can’t put together a top ten list of crooners without Vic Damone … am I crazy or is Godfather III the worst sequel ever? … this kid Will Farrell is gonna be a star, mark my words … how do they fit all those movies into that tiny Netflix store on your TV? … you ever see a squirrel go backward down a tree? … tried Axe the other day, but I’m just an Aqua Velva guy all the way … best car ever in my book is the ’48 DeSoto, they don’t make ‘me like that anymore … name someone funnier than Art Carney … who else’s favorite bird is the yellow crested wren? … when they made Angie Dickinson they threw away the mold …
You get the idea. The past week (is it only a week?) has been an emotional rollercoaster and it seems a lot has happened in a very short period of time. I welcome the return of decency on our nation’s capital and I mourn the passing of two very different icons who sneakily had lasting impact on me … that Joe Biden, he’s a real mensch, Jack! … Hammerin’ Hank will bat clean up in Heaven, take that to the bank … after he does a sit-down chat fest with Larry King … thanks, gentlemen, for providing me with many great memories … and rich fodder for a blog … and you know, there’s nothing better than crawling into a bed made with flannel sheets straight out of the dryer …
Anyway, that’s my two cents.