I’m not usually one for rubber-necking a celebrity death or commenting on it here. I feel I need to say something about Rob Reiner. It’s hard for me to think about someone in public life whose contributions were so weighted in the direction of humor and joy and whose final fate was so much one of horror and heartbreak. When I put together the pieces of that collision last night I couldn’t quite process it.
I’m old enough that from my own childhood and probably even more from the vicarious memories of my parents I still kind of think, or thought of, Rob Reiner as Carl Reiner’s kid. Which of course he was. And Carl Reiner — who only died in 2020 — was one of the greats of the first golden age of television. But in the best sense, in terms of creation, longevity, cultural influence, range and more, Reiner totally eclipsed his father. Look at the run of movies in the 80s and 90s and numerous ones since. Look, if you’re not as familiar with it, at the very dedicated, practical and successful political involvement. Not just the fundraisers and giving but the work on specific issues over years and years.
It’s a reminder that to make sense of, to be at peace with this world, we have to find some path of solace or redemption that can coexist even with the abject tragedy and sorrow.
