Rest’s a reminder that no one’s irreplaceable

It’s good to be back after a three-week hiatus, a stoppage of this column which was not only refreshing but instructive, too.

Whoever first observed that graveyards are filled with indispensable people was right on the money, as endless examples remind us.

There was a time when fans of UConn’s women’s basketball program fretted what the future held after graduations sent the wondrous likes of Diana Taurasi, Maya Moore, Rebecca Lobo, Breanna Stewart, et al., into the ranks of venerated alumnae.

Yet here the Huskies are, winners of their last 111 games, heading to the Final Four in Dallas, voraciously in search of the program’s fifth consecutive NCAA championship, its 12th overall.

Coach Geno Auriemma’s teams are a lot like Bill Belichick’s Patriots: They don’t rebuild, they reload.

Indispensability is no less a myth in the media, though you might not suspect it if you subject yourself to the nauseous preening of unctuous hosts and “panels of experts” whose political blather pollutes TV’s coverage of national issues.

Watching them talk over one another as if their views are too invaluable to be delayed by common courtesy is enough to make even the most ardent news junkie reach in despair for the clicker.

Their exaggerated sense of self is appalling.

But back to the threeweek sabbatical, during which the late, great Arthur Brisbane came to mind, as he always does here during prolonged stretches of absence from work.

He was a brilliant syndicated columnist for the Hearst newspapers with an estimated 20 million followers, leading William Randolph Hearst, the legendary “Boss,” to offer him a six-month paid vacation “in recognition of your outstanding work.” Brisbane turned it down. “There are two reasons why I will not accept your generous offer,” he explained in a note to the Boss. “The first is that it might affect the circulation of your papers if I stopped writing for six months. The second reason is that it might not.”

A great line? Yes. But it was also a large understanding of the greater reality that few among us are irreplaceable.

Loved ones? That’s different. There’s no replacing the loss of those who occupied a special place in our hearts. That’s a hurt that never heals, at least not for some of us.

But columnists? Basketball players? TV “personalities?” Like the chaff which the wind blows away, they all have their moments, then vacate the stage.

As the delightful Billy Sutton correctly noted, “Peacock one day, feather duster the next.”

All of which is to say it’s nice to be back.