An era ended last night with the retirement of Andy Rooney from his 33-year, weekly, stint on CBS’ 60 Minutes. I grew up watching Andy Rooney and I always enjoyed his writing. He wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t good TV. He was a good writer who happened to be on television.
Berkshire Hathaway is one of those massive corporate behemoths that weighs down chairs and breaks tables when it sits down to commune with others in a room. On May 11, 2011 I wrote an article about Berskhire Hathaway losing its moral value:
Fuddy Duddyism only goes so far in the mainstream cult of personality, and Warren Buffet can no long demand that people just “trust him” on anything anymore because Sokol singlehandedly ruined that reputation and opportunity. Buffet, now 80-years-old, is in a tough place of his own making because he made the worst sort of bet on David Sokol that is now paying him back in backlash and derision — and there is rightly no escape from that public punishment and social scorn.
Today, I’m sorry to report, Berkshire Hathaway’s GEICO Insurance company has taken a step too far into mainstream television tastelessness with a new commercial selling fear and loathing with a grim and cynical smile.
When I receive my daily Google Alerts, I usually cringe when I need my name invoked in web properties beyond which I control because it usually means I’m dead again, or being accused of something that isn’t true.
When I was growing up, watching television meant watching television programs that were written by creative writers, produced, and involved actors saying the words that those writers wrote and rewrote and deliberated over — sometimes pouring their hearts and emotions into the words that the actors would say. These television programs came in different genres. There were comedies that were situational and not, dramas, soap operas — it was all out there and waiting for us to consume it.
A week ago, in our Panopticonic blog, I wrote an article — BigBelly Solar Recycling in Jersey City — and less than a week later, those divine BigBelly landmarks in our urban core have become geographic eyesores as red graffiti pocks the new surface of the metal bins. Here’s how one BigBelly looked after its aesthetic destruction at the hands of some Jersey City Heights hooligan:
Here’s how that same BigBelly looked less than a week ago:
It was something disturbing I noticed as a teenager — seeing the small stores I loved going to as a kid shutting down and being replaced by cookie cutter stores owned by a dozen companies that were all uniform in appearance and in product. You could be on the inside of one restaurant and think that you were in a completely different state — there was no unique quality to the establishments and no feel of what some might call a company’s soul.
I am a Jerry Lewis fan. Sure, he’s an ancient, 85-year-old, egomaniac, but the guy has made some important movies, and he dedicated his life to trying to help find a cure for muscular dystrophy. He did something while others — smarter, richer, and younger others — did nothing. I admire his guts and stamina. Jerry Lewis does not give in or give up.
