The Old Guard

Life is largely about transitions, or trying to avoid them and clinging to the comfortably familiar. This year I've been shaken out of my complacency not so much by personal upheavals but by a changing of the guard on network TV news. Just a year ago one could channel surf and still find the reassuring faces on the classic broadcasting networks of Tom Brokaw, Dan Rather, and Peter Jennings. No more. In what seems flash these icons have disappeared serially, like the wives of Henry VIII. But instead of "divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, behaded, survived" we have "retired, quit, died..."

And tonight, adding to the dearly departing is Ted Koppel of "Nightline." Sure he will be active producing the show and other projects, but his stalwart presence on "Nightline" will be sorely missed. This despite the fact that I hardly ever watch "Nightline" any more, given all the bad news since 2001, and when I do most often the host has been Chris Wallace or George Stephanopolos. These guys are pros, but simply don't convey the gravitas of Koppel. Since he guided us through the tortuous Iran hostage crisis (remember "America Under Siege"? Those were the good old days) he has always been a reliable father figure, exuding trustworthiness despite his Howdy Doody face and Donald Trump hairdo.

Maybe he got tired of ruminating over all the bad news, or keeping a straight face while the current Administration prevaricated its way into an unwinnable war, or even duelling with fatuous toadies like FEMA Chief "Helluva Job" Brownie. He certainly has earned the right to move on to something original or at least different. But what about me? Who am I supposed to trust now? None of the replacement anchors has persuaded me to hang around at 6:30. The folks at CNN have some promising newcomers like Anderson Cooper, who feels the news as much as he reports it. Fox News has hired some quality people, but it's still Fox News. The balkanization of news reportage that has accompanied the expansion of TV networks makes news watching less habitual and more sporadic. Not to mention news radio and the Internet, with its streaming up-to-the-minute videos.

It was very nice to turn on an interview program (Charlie Rose? Chris Matthews? Can't remember which) and hear the most reassuring news voice of all, Walter Cronkite, opining about current events. He's still articulate, thoghtful and mellow-voiced, and engenders trust as much as he ever did in his glory days. Like Jimmy Carter, he transitioned into elder statesman status with great style, and remains the only former newsman who had some links to Edward R. Murrow, a contemporary who has recently been lionized in the admirable film "Good Night and Good Luck." One hopes Cronkite survives as long as his voice and body allow, but he would also be a worthy subject for a biopic, to be entitled obviously "And That's the Way It Is."

Of course change and transition is inevitable as it is regrettable, and nearly all the cions of my youth are moving on, so I'd best deal with it. There is one individual, though, who is absolutely irreplaceable in his field and whose departure would be a locally tragic event. That person is Vin Sculley, the non-pareil of baseball announcers, who has been announcing the Dodger games for over fifty years now with a dulcet glibness that always amazes me. When he goes, maybe it will be time for me as well.