Remembering Fred Imus
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Know this sounds crazy…
But I’m watching the president speak to the nation in the middle of yesterday's market meltdown, and I’m thinking to myself:
"Self, what would Fred do?"
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Fred Imus, the irascible brother of the far even more irascible Don Imus.
Fred passed away last weekend.
But I can't stop thinking about him this week.
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A man of not only few words, but perfectly happy living in that pregnant pause that so un-nerves those who'd prefer filling the void with noise. Any noise.
Not Fred…who, like his brother Don…had a way of cutting through the nonsense, and making you think, "Maybe it's all those guys yapping who are spewing the real nonsense."
I never met Fred. I never knew Fred. Over the years, I just heard Fred.
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And I liked Fred. I liked his brevity. And his wit. And I liked the way he and Don played off each other on the air…
But you know what I really liked?
The way each would wrap up that conversation on air. After the zinging, Don and Fred closing with just three words.
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"I love you."
The irascibles. Suddenly…lovable.
David Hinckley of the New York Daily News wrote of Fred, "He came off as a cowboy born after his time, a man who spent a lot of time riding the range of his private thoughts."
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A love for a brother whose success he didn't resent.
…reciprocated by that successful brother's eagerness to put him on because he didn't forget.
You got the feeling they had been through much.
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Much bad. Much tough. Much hard.
Much more than words could say.
So they didn't say it.
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In the end, you just kind of got it.
...this week, in particular, filled with screaming politicians…we could do worse than remember Fred.
I'm sure I speak for don and Fred and their entire extended families...when I say…
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The silence…is deafening.
Fred Imus. Dead. At age 69.