David Letterman is about to retire after thirty-three years as a late-night TV host, and he’s marked the occasion by giving a genuinely revealing interview to the New York Times:
My guess is that he’ll miss it more than we’ll miss him. I remember when Letterman was still fresh and original—quite startlingly so—but that was a long, long time ago. Now he’s sixty-eight years old, and he’s outlived the conventions that he used to mock, as well as the new ones that he helped to create. Indeed, he’s come very close to outliving network TV itself.
As I wrote in this space apropos of Johnny Carson’s death in 2005, Letterman has
" devoted most of his adult life to that most ephemeral of endeavors, hosting a late-night talk show….I wonder what [Carson] thought of his life’s work? Or how he felt about having lived long enough to disappear into the memory hole? At least he had the dignity to vanish completely, retreating into private life instead of trying to hang on to celebrity by his fingernails. Perhaps he knew how little it means to have once been famous."
To perhaps invite a comparison, maybe a guy like Driscoll needs to be in front of people more than those people need to "learn" anything from him. It's a shame that Driscoll's been on the conference circuit for the simple reason that if he was trying to convince people he'd gladly take being a local church pastor over being a celebrity he's showing us by example that this isn't the case ... and possibly hasn't been the case since he preferred to preach to the majority of the congregation known as Mars Hill through screens, give or take a week delay. Guys who just wanted to be local church pastors would not have let their books be promoted by Result Source.