Reverential respect and unwanted phone calls

A conversation the other day brought up a rather unusual topic. I was asked if there's anyone in the world, upon first meeting, of whom I would be in awe.

My initial reaction was this: Since John Wayne and Ted Williams have died, no, I cannot think of anyone who impresses me to the point of reverential respect.

OK. Maybe Father Ted Hesburgh.

And then it dawned on me that I'd forgotten all about William F. Buckley, Jr.

Other than a few sportswriters, WFB is my favorite newspaper and magazine columnist.

It's hard to believe that he's been gone five years.

Perhaps, more than any other columnist, Bill Buckley knew what needed to be said, knew how to say it well, and knew that the consequences could be damned.

In his magazine's (National Review) 2008 farewell tribute to his illustrious life, novelist Tom Wolfe quoted WFB in one of his classic comebacks to some idiot behind a glass wall who had raised some fuss during a recording: "The imperative you present is debatable, but that you won't do it again is the given."

Imagine.

"The imperative you present is debatable, but that you won't do it again is the given."

What a great rebuke!

Mr. Wolfe concluded by saying, "The next morning I wondered how far up the stairs the poor guy had made it last night before he realized he was bleeding."

Yes, Mr. Buckley could cut to the quick.

He also once both amused and enlightened me by writing about some wannabe scribe that his words might be dangerous if they weren't so damned boring and predictable. And, how!

As I like to say about such chaps, their next original thought will be their first.

A former employee of WFB – and syndicated columnist – Mona Charen said "Some of my happiest memories are of times when I made Bill laugh. Bill had the capacity to make all of us feel that we were delightful to him."

WFB's son, Christopher Buckley, said of his father: "Looking back, I now understand that his greatness was of a piece with the way he conducted himself at sea. Great men always have too much sail up. Great men take great risks."

William F. Buckley, Jr., as well as his father, took great risks. They made great statements, too. They spoke truth to power. They were not, by any measure, shy.

Thus, I will correct my earlier response and add WFB to my list. I think he fits rather nicely with the Duke, Fr. Ted, and the Splendid Splinter.

* * *

And then there was today's unsolicited telemarketing call from some sort of emergency life line telephone service.

I let the man speak for about 30 seconds.

He warned me that – at my advanced age – I might fall at any moment and be stuck like a good 9-iron shot right where I lie.

Hell, I told him, you'll have that.

He went on to say that I shouldn't hesitate; that I should order now and he'd send me some sort of electronic contraption through which I might push some magical button and have the Mayo Clinic at my doorstep in seconds.

I ended the conversation by telling the fellow that if I ever had such a device, and ever attempted to use it, the first call would most likely be to the nearest funeral home.

I haven't seen a doctor since George Bush (the first one) was in office and I protested then.

For those employed by so-called life-line beepers or the AARP asshats, here's a clue: Leave me the hell alone.

If I fall, I fall. If I can't breathe, I can't breathe. That's why we have gravediggers.

I have lived a half a century without need of your so-called services.

I sure as hell don't need them now. Stop calling, already.

Rory Ryan is publisher of The Highland County Press.