Lots of words have been written, but I liked what James Lileks had to say:
Ninety years! It’s hard to feel sad. Sometimes you hear of the death of a famous person, or formerly famous person, and you deflate a little, partly because it’s a pity, him being dead and all, and mostly because it moves something from your own experience from the ALIVE into the GONE column, and makes you wonder if you’re replenishing your own store of cultural icons, or just dusting the ones you’ve had for years. For some reason when I heard Paul Harvey was dead (once again, via Twitter) I thought: damn. And then I wanted to applaud. Some lives are like that. Curtain down, the house is dark - and everyone decides, on their own, to clap. I don’t know what Paul Harvey was like, and I don’t care: that career was a performance. Sure, I’ll clap. And stand.
