Over the weekend, we witnessed the passing of Chuck Berry, a Rock ‘n’ Roll pioneer (age 90); Jimmy Breslin, a distinguished columnist and journalist (age 88); and Bernie Wrightson, a notable comic book artist (age 68).
Their life details and accomplishments vary. But all three touched many. Social media was flooded with remembrances by fans.
A natural question is why so many can feel so intensely.
One answer is those involved touched many people. The passing of those who died this weekend somehow seems personal.
In a way, it is personal. Besides admiration for the accomplishments of the departed, there’s an additional layer of sadness. A piece of one’s own life has died. It is a reminder of one’s own mortality.
Baby Boomers likely are feeling this most of all. That generation is either in retirement age or approaching it. A weekend like this one is a reminder that Boomers are closer to the end than the beginning.
Here’s some context in terms of this blog and its primary subjects, the James Bond films and the spy entertainment generated by them.
In less than 12 months, we’ve witnessed deaths among the few remaining early key behind-the-camera contributors to the Bond film series (Ken Adam, Guy Hamilton). Among the “The Other Spies,” we’ve seen the death of Robert Vaughn, the star of The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
When the first screen Bond passes away — whoever it is, whenever it happens — there will be around round of mourning, one that will circle the globe.
This will only continue. It’s the way of the world.