ANDY ROONEY
★★★★★ (4 out of 5)
Hello, and welcome to my week-by-week review of everything in the world. Today I am reviewing Andy Rooney.
Every Sunday evening I turn my dial to Channel 3 to see my good friend Andy Rooney discussing whatever was on his mind when the camera started to roll. Of course we aren’t really friends. I’ve never met him, although that doesn’t stop me from feeling like I know him.
Andy always has something to say. One week I learned he has several watches, many of which he never uses. Another week he told me about how when he was younger he liked to eat cookies, but he’s not into that any more. Me either.
There’s no one quite like Andy Rooney. He’s probably the only person on television who is given two minutes of prime time space to do literally whatever he wants with it. Most people would have to spend tens of thousands of dollars for the time Andy is allotted, but those people would just use it to sell something. Andy isn’t like that. He doesn’t care about money, probably because no value can be put on the services he offers.
Andy doesn’t squander a single breath while pondering things such as potato chips, the names of cars, celebrities he’s heard of, his favorite hat, zebras, gizmos, and more! When Andy informs me that elastic bands dry out after several years, that’s a fact I’ll think of for potentially weeks.
Not only is he a journalist and teacher, Andy also has the distinction of being the world’s oldest hand model. He’s never afraid to pose for a close-up of his frail, bloated hands examining a pencil he found in a drawer or letter from a fan who understand Andy. I’m one to talk. I have frightening hands, too, but not the bravery to show them to the world. I usually wear gloves when in public.
One thing about Andy that concerns me is his broad appeal. If too many people like him, he might gain a false sense of self-importance and begin using his platform for things less important than the varied cheeses available. Even my wife liked him, and she rarely liked anything on television. Once, after watching Andy, my wife got up and ran into the kitchen where she began discarding junk mail without opening it first. That mail wasn’t for her, specifically, and Andy knew it.
Please join me next week when I’ll be reviewing Phish.
