Boortz was trained as a lawyer and spent many of his years prior to syndication working hours both as a practicing attorney and radio personality. And the skills he honed as an attorney helped him slice and dice issues and those who dared to challenge him on air like few others could. Like a good trial attorney, Boortz would present his case, always with facts. And one slip-up by a would-be opponent, one lack of "evidence" for their statement, even one mispronounced word could lead to sudden death invoked by what his critics considered the talk show equivalent of Seinfeld's famed "Soup Nazi."
Then there was the humor. Over the years, too many people, including some big names in the media, mistook Boortz's style of, as he called it, "stirring the pudding" as being "vicious." The truth was, to those who listened daily, it was clear that Boortz often had his tongue firmly implanted in his check, pushing the limits of what he could say and mock.
None was funnier than his homage to indecipherable "street talk," as Boortz and his late Associate Producer Royal Marshall played a news interview from the shooting of a man (who survived, I might note) by the name of "Boo." The witness's sentences are virtually impossible to understand, but Marshall provided a "street talk" interpretation with the same deadpan perfection of a U.N. interpreter.
A quick online search will find the bit all over the Web, and it is hilarious.
The brightest, brashest and best voice of our time leaves talk radio at the height of his game just before a second term for President Obama. Those who were his loyal listeners will miss his daily dose of "intelligent chaos." To put it in more personal terms, and snatching a theme from the late humorist Lewis Grizzard, "Boo got shot ... and I'm not so happy myself." Your fans will miss you, Mr. Boortz.
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