Good Night, and Good Luck, Charley
by
Tom Chartier
by Tom Chartier
DIGG THIS
I hate goodbyes.
They are sad but an inevitable part of life. However, it’s always
best to face them with a certain appreciation for what has been
and what is yet to come.
After 53 years
of journalism Charley
Reese has decided to call it quits. I’d say a break from three
columns a week is well earned. That’s a heavy load. Imagine walking
into the office one morning in 1955 and not leaving until 2008.
That’s what it means to write three columns a week… not that Mr.
Reese spent all those years only writing columns. But you get the
idea.
While reading
a Charley Reese column, one could just about hear the clickety-clack
of a typewriter or breath in the smoke of the copy room. He came
from an era in journalism where a necktie was required to catch
BBQ sauce, not to make the writer look snappy for the televised
infotainment show.
As a fledgling
hack wannabe writer, and that’s what I really am at best, Charley
Reese has been one of my idols. His ability to say exactly what
he means in such short, concise columns has been an inspiration.
Never talking down to his readers, Mr. Reese has always spoken to
us in the vernacular of the peasantry. You get the feeling
he’s one of us. And that he is. You feel like you’re hearing sage
advice from a trusted friend over a beer.
I haven’t always
agreed with everything Charley Reese has said in his columns but
that in itself is a compliment. However, most of the time I’ve been
right with him. Either way, the straight common sense of his writing
has been something I’ve always looked forward to in the morning.
When I’ve opened the home page of LRC everyday, if the bi-line is
Charley Reese it has been the first and sometimes… sorry Lew… the
only thing I’ve read that day. Sometimes real life gets in the way
of reading everything. And I’d never skip one. One couldn’t help
feeling safe with a Reese column. We could depend on him to get
his point across without a long bombastic lecture. His columns would
always be short and sweet, and no less profound. Often, they were
more profound simply because they were so direct and to the point
and full of plain old ’Merican English.
Like many of
us, I’ve been to college. I’ve spent many long hours sitting in
lecture halls listening to scholars in love with their own voices
as they spewed forth gibberish. I’m never too keen on reading the
same sort of arrogant hogwash… even when it’s well-researched hogwash.
After all isn’t what a person says more important than how long
he takes to say it or how many five-dollar words he uses?
Thanks to Charley
Reese I’ve learned to view the American South as probably someplace
I’d really like. This Yankee Boy has grown up with an image of the
South as a haven for armed hillbillies, NASCAR and beer. Well… that
may still be true. But now it sounds like a world of humanity without
any pretenses. After years of Southern California, Tokyo and Hollywood
a good old Southern Three-B
Night (bullets, beer and BBQ) sounds like a breath of fresh
air. Not to mention the revelation that in the South, not working
yourself into a coffin is considered preferable than making heaps
of money. Man! That’s my kind of world! Pass me a mess of shrimp
and a beer! I’ll get around to fixing that rusty hinge later.
I
don’t mean for this to sound like a eulogy because it’s not. Charley
Reese’s writings will be missed but there’s a whole heap of them
to discover and re-discover in his
LRC archives. And after all… he’s not planning on "croaking."
So consider his story, A
Good Hobby. In it he advises people to buy a backyard telescope.
I completely agree. Some good stargazing puts everything into proper
perspective while we feeble little creatures infest this planet
fretting and fussing over our own unimportance. Maybe Charley Reese’s
own words will be best here.
"…buy
yourself a telescope and look at the stars. That will at least
teach you not to sweat the small stuff. And all human affairs,
compared with the universe, are small stuff."
So even though
we’ve never met, good
night, and good luck Charley. You’ve earned it.
September
1, 2008
Tom
Chartier [send him mail]
played lead guitar in legendary Los Angeles punk band The Rotters
for 26 years until their final appearance in January of 2004. He
has lived in Tokyo and Los Angeles. Currently he resides somewhere
in the Caribbean.
Copyright
© 2008 LewRockwell.com
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