Life (and death) goes on

Dozens of bloggers are writing amazing material about the unfolding unraveling going on all around us.  I read them and marvel at the depth of thought, and the depths of perfidy being dissected.

With all that stuff swirling about, I don’t feel pressured to add to the clamor.  Instead, I’ll return to a subject I’ve plumbed previously ... the week’s necrology.  Please understand that I’m working from the perspective of last Sunday.  That’s when the Seattle Times publishes its weekly roundup, and that’s the substrate from which I’m working.

Author George Plimpton, who died peacefully in his New York City home at the age of 76, made a public career out of being a dilettante.  He played a series at quarterback for the Detroit Lions, took the mound against Willie Mays, sparred with Archie Moore, swung on a circus trapeze.  And then he wrote erudite, humorous books and essays about his misadventures.  Behind the scenes, though, Plimpton championed numerous literary careers—Roth and Kerouac among them—as founder and editor of the Paris Review.  Plimpton never took his public persona seriously, and his tongue was never more firmly in his cheek than in his famed April 1, 1985 Sports Illustrated profile of a mysterious young baseball phenom, The Curious Case of Sidd Finch.

Another well-known author to take his leave in New York last week was Herb Gardner.  Lung disease took the life of the 68-year-old playwright, whose two major works were A Thousand Clowns (1962 Tony nominee) and I’m Not Rappaport, winner of 1986 Tonys for Best Play and Best Actor in a Play (Judd Hirsch).  Gardner also wrote a few screenplays, including the strange 1971 Dustin Hoffman vehicle Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?.

Five days after being ambushed in the streets of Baghdad, Iraqi diplomat Aquila al-Hashimi died of her gunshot wounds.  The 50-year-old had been chosen by the American occupiers to join the Iraqi Governing Council.

An even more prominent Arab died last week.  Columbia professor and literary scholar Edward Said, 67, succumbed to leukemia in New York.  Highly respected for his academic accomplishments and intellectual rigor, Said was a passionate advocate for the rights of the Palestinean people.

Maybe there’s nothing untoward about it, but it seems just a bit strange that Kit Gingrich, mom of Newt, resided in a nursing home in, of all places, Harrisburg PA when she passed on last week at age 77.

Also leaving this mortal coil last week, in Pleasantville NJ, was 99-year-old Sonora Webster Carver.  She was the first woman to ride the famed diving horses at Atlantic City’s Steel Pier.  Ms. Carver made her inaugural jump in 1924, dropping 40 feet into a tank of water at the Pier.

Dapper Robert Palmer was only 54 when struck down by a myocardial infarction in Paris.  The bluesy British singer had toured and recorded for over 15 years with little success until his 1986 single Addicted to Love made a huge splash on MTV.  With those stylized automaton-women behind him, the perfectly-attired Palmer’s song had irresistable visual and aural hooks that took it to the top of the charts.  That huge hit was followed soon after by Simply Irresistable, with similar visuals and sound that made Palmer a major artist in the second half of the 1980s.  Leaving the spotlight of stardom behind, he continued to record his soulful music right up until his sudden and untimely death.

Not many people know the name Gordon Jump.  But bring up the name of Arthur Carlson, the bumbling and ineffectual station manager he played on the splendid 1978-1982 CBS series WKRP in Cincinnati, and everyone knows who you’re talking about.  They also know him as the Maytag repairman in a long-running series of TV ads (some of those folks recall that he was preceded in the Maytag role by another character actor, though few know that the name of that actor is Jesse White).  Gordon Jump died in Orange County CA at age 71, from pulmonary fibrosis.

Co-star of Singin’ in the Rain (1952), effervescent Donald O’Connor was a hoofer and singer, as well as comic actor.  His Make ‘Em Laugh number, where he runs up walls, knocks over sofas, and generally wreaks amiable havoc on a movie stage set, is a brilliant tour de force, as memorable in its own way as Gene Kelly’s performance of the movie’s title song.  O’Connor, dead of heart failure in Calabasas CA at the age of 78, also starred in a series of Francis the Talking Mule movies, said to have been the, ummm, inspiration for the Mister Ed television series.

Comments

Mr. Carlson is dead? I missed that one!

I loved him in both ‘KRP and the Maytag ads.

Thanks for mentioning the first Maytag Repairman, who is the only one I remember since, apparently, he was replaced by Gordon Jump after I left the States and I never saw him in that role.  So GJ will always be just Mr. Carlson to me.  I did love WKRP and wish I could see the whole run as originally broadcast again - but, alas, it is no longer available in it’s authentic condition.

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