Quote of the Day (Charles Osgood, on the Fiscal-Cliff Congress)

“Call them irresponsible.

Isn’t it demonstrable?

Throw in great self-righteousness, too.”—Charles Osgood, The Osgood File, January 2, 2013 WCBS Radio Network Broadcast (to the tune of “Call Me Irresponsible”)

In the late Seventies, Charles Osgood came out with a book puckishly titled, Nothing Could Be Finer Than a Crisis That Is Minor in the Morning. That’s one way of viewing the fiscal cliff—invariably described since New Year’s Day as “averted”—except, as the veteran CBS newscaster noted in his deadly hilarious spoof of the situation several days ago, all our nation’s representatives have done is kick the can down the road.

Let the yahoos on Capitol Hill bray on. If there’s any pleasure to be derived at all from the agony they’ve just put us through (and will do again—just you wait), it’s a reminder of the pleasures of listening to the whimsical, wise Mr. Osgood, who turns 80 today. I haven’t had a chance to watch CBS’ television news show Sunday Morning as much as I’d like in recent years, but whenever I have tuned in, I see that the program that Charles Kuralt started more than 30 years ago remains in good hands with his replacement.

I have more than a passing interest in this fine longtime newsman. He not only came from my hometown of Englewood, N.J., but studied drama with John Travolta’s mother at my alma mater, the late, much-lamented St. Cecilia High School.

Over the years, Osgood has appeared as a guest on the annual Christmas show of another radio legend, WNYC –FM deejay Jonathan Schwartz. It’s somehow appropriate, as both are throwbacks to a more civilized time—so it’s doubly hard even to conceive of anyone filling their respective niches.

This Day in Television History

March 6, 1981—“The most trusted man in America,” Walter Cronkite, ended 19 years as anchor of CBS News with his traditional “And that’s the way it is” signoff.

Off-camera, was the newsman really as avuncular as he appeared before millions each night? Could anybody be?

No matter. Cronkite became indelibly associated with signature moments for millions of baby boomers in his time at the “Tiffany” (i.e., classy) network: the assassination of Kennedy, when he uncharacteristically let down his emotional guard by shedding tears on camera; the Vietnam War, when this former hawk’s announcement that he felt the conflict was now a stalemate may have contributed to LBJ’s decision to press for negotiations and not to seek another term as President; and his interview with Anwar Sadat, when the Egyptian leader’s affirmative answer to a question on peace talks provided Jimmy Carter with the opening that led to the Camp David agreement between Egypt and Israel.

That credibility led to one of the most fascinating what-ifs of 20th-century history. In a recent column by George F. Will, George McGovern indicated that he felt he could have won the 1972 Presidential race if he had appointed Cronkite rather than Sen. Thomas Eagleton as his running mate. (Subsequently, of course, the news of Eagleton’s electroshock treatment for depression leaked, dealing yet another heavy, if not fatal, blow to the Democrat’s candidacy.)

Surprisingly, Cronkite says he would have accepted the offer. It’s probably just as well that it was never made—otherwise, Cronkite’s painstakingly maintained non-ideological image would have been impossible to maintain.

The 64-year-old Cronkite yielded his post to Dan Rather in accordance with CBS policy on retirement. If the newsman felt rushed, he never gave a hint of it, and he certainly exited with much more grace than his successor did.

No, I’m not talking here about Rather’s bungling of the story about George W. Bush’s service (or lack thereof) in the Texas Air National Guard. I mean the lack of a timetable for stepping down, or of a successor to be groomed to take his place—and of the lawsuit filed by Rather against CBS that has as much potential to destroy his own frayed reputation as his former employer’s.

In fact, we now see that Cronkite’s departure as anchor was as exquisitely timed as his ascension to the post. A year after Cronkite took over for Douglas Edwards, CBS News expanded its nightly news program from 15 minutes to a half hour. He left before the deluge that engulfed CBS and the other two networks: corporate takeovers, pressure to stop hemorraghing money, sharper partisan battles that heightened tensions over reporting, and the rise of alternative media—not just CNN and Fox News, but the bloggers who birddog news coverage 24/7.

By chance, I was passing by the CBS building in New York last year when I saw a brunette in her 30s or 40s walking close to a man taking small, slow steps. It took me a couple of seconds before I associated the man in the moustache and the familiar Black Rock complex.

Cronkite looked so much smaller than I recalled from my childhood and adolescence. But that earlier time, of course, was when he was closer to his physical peak, not a nonagenarian weighed down by the ailments of old age as well as its sorrows. (His wife had recently died.) Even a giant in his business – the last link to the fabled Murrow Era—is, like the rest of us, mortal in the end.