Studs is Dead

There are days a man doesn't want to sell a paper. Not in Chicago.

This day was coming since the moment he was born. It took 96 years to finally close shop, but I'll bet he was at a typewriter at the last possible moment. 

Studs Terkel lived a life that was about everyman. It didn't matter that he was wealthy beyond belief, hob-nobbing with the literary elite. He still had class.

So that's the news. It might be why you are here. Now, it's true. I got papers to sell, and it is Saturday. Used to be the working man grabbed a paper, got some coffee, and read the news. Now he logs on, and clicks through. So do I. Me too. But Studs was a writer and radio guy. Today, now, he's on the front pages of the Daily Herald, Chicago Sun-Times and Chicago Tribune. He's on PBS, and every local station.

He knew everybody, and met everyone else. I even shook his hand once. Short little Jewish man with a big mouth. Won't ever forget that. Good guy, now gone.

Sure, I don't want his face on every paper, not for this. But this is what I do. I sell papers. Buy one, would ya? I think Studs would approve. Even if he didn't, he'd understand. Besides, I'm tired of seeing Barack Obama's mug everywhere. At least Studs' face was honest.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Bookbinding and Bitter Cold

Chicago's Gangs Ruining Chicago: Flush Them Down the Toilet

Presidential Alert - Now That's Funny