(HOST) New Year’s Eve is nearly here, and that has commentator Mary McCallum remembering how last year’s holiday gave her some food for thought about one of America’s most famous cultural icons.
(MCCALLUM) Last New Year’s Eve I feasted with friends at a long table laden with Italian food. While downing glasses of red wine and platters of eggplant, meatballs, sausages and pasta we talked loudly about world problems and how to fix them. We covered a lot of territory by the time we got to dessert.
At 11:00, conversation turned to whether or not it’s important to stay up until midnight to count down the final minute of one year and recognize the first second of the next. Everyone agreed that the last place they wanted to be on a bitter winter night would be New York’s Times Square, surrounded by thousands of screaming partygoers.
Then someone mentioned Dick Clark. It had been decades since I’d watched this rock ‘n roll icon guide America through New Year’s Eve, and he was remarkable for always looking the same despite the passage of time.
"He needs to retire," someone at the table said. "He looks terrible after his stroke and his voice is slurred," added another. "Time to give it up."
I was incredulous: "Dick Clark had a stroke?"
My friends asked me what rock I’d been living under for the last five years. They told me he was in a wheelchair, is frail and his speech is difficult to understand. "He’s eighty and has been doing this same gig for 37 years," one said. "And who wants to watch him when he looks so bad?"
And that got me wondering if the consensus around the table was less about Dick and more about our uneasiness with aging and illness. As a culture we like our celebrities young, fit and attractive. They encourage us to believe it’s possible to avoid calamity, sickness and old age… indefinitely.
I left the party early and by 11:30 I flipped on my own TV. There was Times Square packed with frenzied freezing celebrants waving and shouting. Within moments the young, photogenic host declared, "And what would we do tonight without the man who has come to symbolize New Year’s Eve for all of us, Dick Clark!"
A pop-up screen appeared and there he was, a thin wheelchair bound octogenerian, struggling to speak – but still sporting that boyish face and a good tan.
He looked like the ghost of New Year’s Eve Past. He managed to say that he loved Times Square’s biggest and best party and wished everyone a Happy New Year.
I was sad to see him so diminished, but heartened that the network gave him precious air time to revisit his favorite party. He’s a disabled old geezer from the past, much harder to pay attention to than that sexy ticket Jennifer Lopez who appeared later. He doesn’t raise ratings or draw in the young crowd.
But seeing Dick again reminded me that disability and aging are realities we will all have to face eventually. And I hope when the time comes for me, I can – like him – still get excited about a great New Years Eve party.