What is the love fest over dead celebrities all about? Last night on Larry King, I was informed that Bernie Mac was a “great” actor. Really? Let’s see…DeNiro, Olivier, Brando, Hopkins, Peck, Mac.
Hmm… no, I don’t really see his name making the list.
That isn’t to say he wasn’t funny or a good entertainer. I think most people would agree he was. Isn’t that enough? Why the excessive accolades? To me, it diminishes the value of the person. When essentially every celebrity that dies was the “greatest actor, father, philanthropist, singer, writer or whatever, it means nothing. In spite of what our culture insists, not everyone is the best at everything.
The real shame is the guy died at 50. Whether he was a celebrity or not, it is always a shame when someone goes before their time. He also happened to be good at his craft and seemed to have a lot of friends. There is no need for the rest of the hyperbole.
I am sure that when I die they will say, “Man, he sure was a cranky bastard”. (Although I would prefer they say, “He was the best damned Twinkie eater I ever met in my life”). But you know what? It’s OK. Much of the time, I am a cranky bastard.
In fact, now that I think about it, I may be the greatest cranky bastard of all time!!! (I hope that gets me on Larry King).