He was a man who brought joy to generations of people, an intractable grump walrus-man who was seemingly born a grandpa. He was Ben Luckett and Pop Fisher and Uncle Douvee and Dr. Blair and the Postmaster General. He was simultaneously the face of Quaker Oats [i]and[/i] Liberty Medical, which is just wild if you think about it. He was a rough-and-tumble old soul from Salt Lake City who clawed his way to prominence as a character actor and just wanted to bet on some horse races, for Pete’s sake.
And he had an [i]epic[/i] final tweet.
I like to think that after he hit Send, Wilford Brimley smiled and knew his work was done. Some people say he rose from his ergonomic chair and climbed straight into bed and closed his eyes and was still forevermore. Others say he ascended bodily in a shaft of golden light that very instant. And still more say he’s still out there to this day, walking the backroads and righting wrongs where he can. But those last people are wrong, they’re thinking of Clive, the really chill old dude down the block who made that one waiter’s day at the Olive Garden back in 2003 when he said yes, he was “the oatmeal guy.”
He will be missed and he will be remembered. In conclusion, here’s Wilford Brimley outrunning an explosion on horseback.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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