AN ICON RETURNS

I’ve watched a lot of TV in my life, and of the countless number of people I’ve seen on the Small Screen, everyone ultimately falls into one of three categories: Wannabe, Celebrity, or Icon.

Wannabes would be a dime a dozen if a dime could get you a dozen of anything these days.  Wannabes pollute the airwaves by making incessant, pointless noise, never stopping to take a breath for fear their 15 minutes of fame will come to a grinding halt with one moment of silence.  These are mostly denizens of “Reality TV” who are not just here-today-gone-tomorrow, but rather here-today-gone-later-today.  I won’t name names because it might only encourage them.

Celebrities have immediate name and face recognition; think Jon Stewart or Bill O’Reilly.  Celebrities appear on the covers of good magazines; think Tina Fey or Simon Cowell.  Some are bigger than others.  Some are better than others.  Some you love and some you hate, but regardless of which it is, even if it’s a little bit of both, you can’t deny the wattage they bring when they appear on screen.  Still, Celebrities, for all of their fame and fortune and power and glory, aren’t on the top shelf – at least some not yet.

As for Icons, they need no introduction, and their importance to the industry of TV is not measured, but rather automatically accepted as fact by the mere mention of their names.  And those who have, or will, follow them, will simultaneously stand on their shoulders and in their shadows forever.  Johnny Carson.  Oprah Winfrey.  Dick Clark.  Lucille Ball.  The list of names I’ve given isn’t all-inclusive, but you get the point.

Add to that list Robert Osborne.

Since 1994, Robert has been more than just the on-air host of Turner Classic Movies, he has been The Face, The Voice, The Heart, and The Soul of TCM, speaking nightly not just to the camera, but to us … the movie geeks, film buffs, and all-around students of his nightly professorial lessons on film.  Thanks to Robert, tuning into TCM is more than just sitting down to watch a movie; it is attending a master class in cinema history.

To put it into movie terms, take the wisdom of Star Wars’ Obi-Wan Kenobi, the genuineness of It’s A Wonderful Life’s George Bailey, and whoever Cary Grant’s tailor was, and you have Robert Osborne.  Icon.

Robert’s absence these past months has left a void in the lives of those of us who have hung on every word of his opens and closes for years now.  I think I speak for all of us when I say, “Welcome back, Robert.  We’ve missed you, but your return has been worth the wait.”