Rush Limbaugh went to meet his maker yesterday as one of the most loved and revered men in America. He probably faced St. Peter like he faced his audience: With confidence and a sense of humor.
Rush lived the American Dream. He paid his dues, working his way up from a small-town disk jockey to become the best-known man in radio. It took skill, good timing, and plenty of show prep. He not only reached the pinnacle of his industry, but he stayed there for decades, something few ever manage in any industry.
For those of you who never listened, he was the Tom Brady of talk radio, but with far more influence on how the game is played and on the country itself. The friend of presidents and the common man, Rush was an entertainer and an educator, and I suspect he cared more than he let on.
I cannot imagine what a struggle this last year must have been, not simply having terminal cancer but knowing that everyone you ever saw or talked to knew it. The price of celebrity, but he bore it well.
Mega dittos, Rush. Rest in peace.