Little Russ and Me

So, last Sunday, I rolled out of bed at 8:50 a.m., as usual, which leaves me just enough time to nuke a crab cake and mix up some chocolate milk before tuning in to "Meet the Press." It just isn't Sunday without my weekly date with Tim Russert and a ridiculously high-calorie brunch. Only last Sunday, I flipped over to NBC to find that my weekly dose of intellectual Beltway smackdown had been replaced by...some tennis thing.

I'm sure it was hugely important. But I didn't care. In fact, I was kind of pissed. There I was standing in my living room, with crab cake and milk I'd bought especially for the occasion, and no Tim. I was unmoored. It threw off my whole day. I grumbled, allowing that Russert was allowed an occasional vacation like anyone else.

It turns out he was in Italy with his wife and son, celebrating his only child's graduation from college. I read that today in the same news alert that told me that Russert had died suddenly earlier this afternoon. While I was debating whether my wildfire fume-induced headache was severe enough for me to cut out early, this man whom I count as one of my top ten heroes of all time was being rushed to a D.C. ER following what may have been a heart attack. He was in his office at NBC's Washington bureau (which he headed), recording the voice-overs for this Sunday's edition of "Meet the Press."

Russert was to be the second in our annual series of speakers on campus - Nov. 18. I've been more focused on getting to meet Salman Rushdie (Feb. 10), but I reserved a fair amount of excitment for Russert. How could any political news junkie do otherwise?

I'm completely and totally flummoxed. I don't know what on earth I'm going to do this Sunday at 9 a.m., or how I'm possibly going to get through the elections this November without Russert and his dry-erase board, which is still way more informative than any computerized electoral map simulator on any network. I don't know if I'm ever going to get over watching Tom Brokaw announce Russert's passing with his iconic newsman's voice cracking with emotion.

Tim Russert's family and friends will grieve for the man they knew and loved. I - and other thinking news junkies - will grieve for one of the only TV journalists I'd grown to trust. I'll worry about who NBC will send to replace him at the head of "Meet the Press"'s odd hexagonal desk - Keith Olbermann? Chris Matthews? Dear God in Heaven, please, no... - and at the same time I'll pity that person, who has such beloved shoes to fill.

In other words - It's going to take me some time to come to terms with a world that doesn't have Tim Russert in it.