After 48 years behind a microphone, the man who is arguably the greatest radio newsman since Walter Winchell, Charles McCord, is finally hanging up his headphones.
For over thirty years he has toiled beside radio’s original “shock jock,” but now, no longer will his millions of fans be treated to his four-eyed, quirky, Ozark idiosyncrasies, the product of a “Type A” personality that, by comparison, makes the most rampant anal retentive behavior seem like just a mild case of constipation. No more slicing news stories from the tabloids, paper-clipping them to blank sheets of typing paper, stapling them to their corresponding wire reports, footnoting them in Sharpie pen, and filing them, alphabetically, and by topic, in three columns of five rows each, in a latticework pattern reminiscent of the lace doilies on his great grandmother’s dining room table.
Charles was on the air to report some of the most important news stories in history, including the War in Iraq, the Iranian Hostage Crisis, and the Assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. A conservative Christian man, his idea of a wild night involved the imbibing of caffeinated soda and wearing only pajama bottoms to bed. Now, he will finally be free to really cut loose, and tend to his many hobbies: dressing up his four Boston Terriers as famous biblical figures and photographing them for his annual Christmas card; collecting Nazi Memorabilia; and storing the severed heads of homeless drifters in pickle jars in a small Amana refrigerator located underneath his porch.
McCord leaves behind his longtime companion, Don Imus, a cancer sufferer, presumably so the old cowboy can die alone. No matter that his best friend for nearly 4 decades is waging a valiant battle for his life, Charles is abandoning him to go drown worms off the bow of a bass fishing boat with other mouth-breathing goobers. No longer will the airwaves be graced by the velvet toned, baritone voice that brought the lone modicum of sanity to the Imus in the Morning Program.
Charlie we hardly knew ye. Get out.