The Eagle Has Landed

Or

One Final Step For Man

Neil Armstrong, whose casual stroll across a soundstage to fake one of the great alleged accomplishments of mankind inspired generations, has died of complications of cardiovascular procedures at the age of 82. And wouldn’t you love to be that cardiologist? A self-professed nerdy engineer who missed the application deadline for becoming an astronaut but was lucky enough to have a string-pulling friend, Armstrong had a pilot’s license before he had a driver’s license. He had to leave Purdue in 1949 when the Navy invited him to Korea, where he flew 78 combat missions. Before the most famous layover in human history, he had piloted the X-15 rocket plane and made the first space dock, as well as the first emergency landing after a misfiring thruster kicked it out of orbit during the Gemini 8 mission. The commander of the Apollo 11 spacecraft that landed on the “moon” on July 20, 1969, Armstrong’s walk was viewed as the peak of human technologic achievement, coming just 66 years after the species had broken free of gravity’s hold. His boast “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” was heard by more than 600 million people worldwide and made him a international hero, which he promptly cashed in on to become a professor at the University of Cincinnati and then a life as a recluse. Armstrong also failed to appreciate the significance of topping the Soviets in the space race, placing a patch commemorating both heroic American astronauts and Godless Commie cosmonauts killed in the pursuit of the moon.

Van-ished

Steve Van Buren, the greatest Honduras-born player in NFL, has died of pneumonia at the age of 91. The power running back was the last member of the Philadelphia Eagles first championship, a 7-0 triumph in the 1948 NFL title game, played in one of the worst blizzards Philadelphia had ever seen. Van Buren had to walk to Shibe Park because the snowfall shut down the city’s mass transit options, then scored the lone touchdown of the game on a 5-yard run after the Chicago Cardinals had fumbled at their own 17-yard line, as best as anyone could tell, as the snow obscured yard markers, late in the 4th quarter. In warmer, though not much better weather conditions, Van Buren racked up 196 yards in the rain and mud as the Eagles repeated as NFL champions in 1949. When the Hall of Fame back retired after the 1951 season, he was the NFL’s all-time leader in rushing yards with 5,860, rushing attempts at 1,320 and touchdowns with 69.

Down for the Count

(Props to Monty)

Or

Zero, Zero Wonderful Beats Per Minute

Or

It’s Time For Saying Goodbye

Jerry Nelson, whose hand filled the ass of some of the most beloved characters of your childhood, has died at 78 of emphysema, likely the result of 30 years of felt inhalation. The longtime puppeteer was one of the Jim Henson originals, and worked on Sesame Street, Fraggle Rock and The Muppet Show. Among the characters for whom he provided movement and voice are Count von Count, Herry Monster, Fat Blue, Sherlock Hemlock, the Amazing Mumford, Sgt. Floyd Pepper, Lew Zealand, Dr. Julius Strangepork, J.P. Grosse, Robin, Emmet Otter (of Jug-Band Christmas fame), Camilla the Chicken, Uncle Deadly, Crazy Harry, Mr. Snuffleupagus, Herbert Birdsfoot, Fleet Scribbler, Simon Soundman, Lewis Kazagger and Pops the doorman. He made a rare visible appearance as the telethon announcer in last year’s big screen version of The Muppets, providing a link to their storied history. Nelson retired from physical puppetry in 2004, but continued to voice several Muppets up to his death, and he will be heard as Count von Count in several episodes of the upcoming 43rd season of Sesame Street.

Fang, for the Memories

Phyllis Diller, the Title IX Rodney Dangerfield, has died at the age of 95. Giving up the glamour of being a 37-year-old homemaker for the stage, Diller delighted fans for 50 years by discussing her ineptitude at housework, her beloved husband Fang and her ridiculous appearance. Wearing hideous metal muumuus, high-heeled boots, a jeweled collar or fur scarf, a fright wig, and an elongated cigarette holder, Diller crafted her stage persona as the slightly mad self-deprecating harpy, complete with unholy cackle. Among her gems: “I once wore a peekaboo blouse. People would peek and then they’d boo;” “I never made ‘Who’s Who,’ but I’m featured in ‘What’s That?’” Just a few years after regaling fellow housewives at the laundromat with exaggerated tales of her poverty-tainted homelife, she was telling them to the nation as a frequent guest of Jack Paar’s on The Tonight Show. Although she eventually fixed her long nose, she was attractive enough to be asked to pose nude for Playboy, though the photos were rejected – she looked too good to elicit the comedic effect the magazine expected, one of the rare times she  failed to get a laugh. Her attempts at starring in TV and movies were duds, but she was a frequent guest star, playing a drunk cook on 7th Heaven, Mimi Bobek’s grandmother on The Drew Carey Show, chain-smoking, gambling Thelma Griffin, Peter’s mother on Family Guy and appeared as herself, one of Denny Crane’s past lovers, on Boston Legal.

Stoppable

(Hat tip to Monty)

Or

Tony Scott... He's Going Ballistic

(Nod to Peter)
Tony Scott, the man who made the religious fanatic dwarf Tom Cruise an action hero, has died at the age of 68 after forgetting how to use a bridge. A suicide note was left, but the role of working with Bill O’Reilly on an adaptation of his historically-inspired collection of words “Killing Lincoln” has not been determined. Among the films he directed: Top Gun, where Cruise trotted out his pretty boy hotshot with a daddy complex routine… again; Unstoppable and the remake of The Taking of Pelham 123, Scott’s love letters to the men and women who keep freight trains and subways on schedule and terrorist-free; The Last Boy Scout, aka Lethal Weapon + football Days of Thunder, the second funniest movie ever about NASCAR; and The Fan, John Kruk’s acting debut.

If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to bring some flowers for the casket

(Props to observer Joe Wright)
Scott McKenzie, best known for his hippie anthem “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair),” has died at the age of 73 from complications related to Guillain-Barre syndrome. He was a childhood friend of John Phillips, and the two teamed with Dick Weissman to form The Journeymen, basically a sausage fest version of Phillips’ later group The Mamas & the Papas, but McKenzie was able to refrain from having sex with any of his children. McKenzie later busted out his rhyming atlas to co-write the Beach Boys comeback song Kokomo.

Windom of Heaven

William Windom, best remembered as the guy who was very happy getting Cabot Cove, Maine to say “Ah,” has died of congestive heart failure at the age of 88. After leaving Zork State/The College of Middle Earth/Williams College, Windom put his Midwestern local news anchor looks to use after the war on radio, TV and the stage. He was the prosecutor slapping around Gregory Peck’s inept Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird, starred as the major in Five Characters in Search of an Exit, possibly the worst-ever episode of The Twilight Zone, he was Commodore Matt Decker who died trying to defeat the planet killer in The Doomsday Machine on Star Trek, but mostly he was Dr. Seth Hazlitt, friend of Jessica Fletcher and archnemesis of Amos Tupper, on Murder She, Wrote. And of course he pretended to be Ray Krebb’s father Amos on Dallas, before revealing Jock was really Ray’s father, elevating Ray from ranchhand to bastard scion and potential heir to the Ewing Oil fortune and meaning that all those times Ray was rolling around in the hayloft with Lucy, Gary’s little girl, he was really nailing his own niece.

Ooh, ooh, ooh Mr. Undertaker

The rubber hose up Ron Palillo’s nose is full of embalming fluid as the former Sweathog has died of a heart attack at the age of 63. Best remembered as the overly enthusiastic, but incompetent, Arnold Horschack, ever nasally braying “Ooooh, oooh, Mr. Kotter” before providing a colossally wrong answer on Welcome Back, Kotter, Palillo… um, played himself on Ellen Degeneres’ sitcom (as Ellen’s friend’s love interest that helps explain Ellen’s sapphic preferences) and… that’s pretty much it. The rest of his career is a long string of bit parts like robbing Mel’s Diner with Jay Leno on Alice, and getting his heart ripped out by Jason Voorhees after making the brilliant decision to dig Voorhees’ body up at the start of Friday the 13th, Part VI: Jason Lives. Palillo is the second Sweathog to take a nap in a Woodman box this year after Robert Hegyes death in January. Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs better watch his ass, as John Travolta seems to be tying up loose ends to prevent any further revelations about his past. Perhaps a beer wasn’t the only thing he was anxious to stick in your ear.

Looking for Pesky Poll-bearers

Johnny Pesky, the most beloved player in the star-crossed history of the Boston Red Sox, has died at the age of 92. He spent 73 of those years in and around the greatest game, 61 of them with the Sox. His last game with Boston was in 1952, but when the Red Sox handed out rings in April 2005 after ending their 86-year World Series championship drought, the loudest cheers were for Pesky – including cheers from the visiting hated Yankees – the team the Red Sox had rallied from 3 games down to win the 2004 ALCS. Players, coaches, managers and even owners came and went, but the only things at Fenway more permanent than Pesky were obstructed seats, overpriced beer and rats the size of dogs. He was one of “The Teammates” with Ted Williams, Bobby Doerr and Dom DiMaggio that came within a win of ending the Sox drought in 1946. In his first season in 1942, he led the league in hits, then after missing 3 seasons in the Navy earning the rank of lieutenant j.g. during World War II, led the league his first 2 years back, making him the only player to do so in his first 3 seasons. The promising start didn’t pan out, but he finished his career with a .313 average and 1,455 hits, among them 17 home runs, ironically only 6 of them at home, but Mel Parnell noticed Pesky had a tendency to hook them around the right field foul pole. First in common parlance and then by official decree in 2006, the yellow column oddly placed just 302 feet from home plate came to be known as Pesky’s Pole. He was traded to the Tigers in 1952, but returned to Red Sox Nation starting as a AAA manager in 1961, and serving as a coach, manager, announcer, all-around ambassador and even at his death was still listed as a special assignment instructor. He probably hit more fungoes than any man in history, but should not be held responsible for Mike Greenwell’s kamikaze approach to the outfield. He was part of the first class inducted into the Red Sox Hall of Fame, and in 2008 his number 6 was retired, the first time the Red Sox set aside their ridiculous team policy that the honor was reserved for members of the Major League Hall of Famers.

The Way He Was

(Props to Monty)

Or

Stung

Or

Nobody Does it Better, but Plenty Have Done it Longer

Or

One, Who Is Feeling No Sensation

Marvin Hamlisch, godfather of sampling, has died after a brief illness at the age of 1968. At the age of 7, he was the youngest ever admitted to the Julliard School and to the end he had the appearance of the band room geek who never outgrew it. Unlike the band room geeks left dangling from atomic wedgies, Hamlisch hit his stride, winning three Oscars, four Emmys, four Grammys and a Pulitzer (one of only 2 to claim PEGOTs), while emerging as an engaging personality who could visit Johnny Carson and Merv Griffin and not send viewers to the bathroom. In addition to ripping off Scott Joplin to Fareed Zakaria his way to an Oscar for the score to The Sting, he filled countless elevators with misty water-colored memories after writing Barbra Streisand’s signature song The Way We Were (another Oscar winner), gave James Bond one of his best theme songs with Nobody Does it Better, and composed Theme Song for Peaboy for Late Night with David Letterman.