The politics of rejection

Though it may be a little off-topic since this is a local arts blog, I can't resist weighing in on the continuing Jay Leno/Conan O'Brien/David Letterman controversy. I feel it's within my purview, since Leno grew up in New Rochelle while Letterman lives in Westchester, and anyhow, whether you live locally or in China, the scandal has a lot to say about how human beings cope (or don't) with something many of us have faced in the workplace — rejection.

The simple fact is that if Conan O'Brien had brought in the ratings NBC required, he wouldn't have been forced to give up "The Tonight Show," and we none of us would be talking about this right now. But O'Brien failed to execute, in part because he failed to hold on to the older viewers who are "The Tonight Show's" core audience, while also failing to deliver a younger crowd, which is made up of fickle consumers at best. (Where were all those young people protesting O'Brien's departure outside NBC's headquarters when O'Brien was foundering? Why advertisers are always courting younger viewers — who unlike their grandparents, have no discretionary income or sense of brand loyalty — is beyond me.)

Letterman — who was once passed over for "The Tonight Show" hosting gig by the Peacock Network in favor of Leno — has been having a field day (and night) with this, skewering NBC and his onetime friend and eternal rival. But how is it really Leno's fault? He, too, was rejected by the network, told in 2004 he would have to give up "The Tonight Show" in 2009 to pave the way for Conan. (Another example of New Coke replacing Classic Coke. And we know how well that turned out.)

Leno only got the 10 p.m. weekday time slot, because NBC was afraid he'd develop a late-night show at ABC. (Not to mix metaphors here, but in this NBC has acted like the husband who no longer wants the first wife but doesn't want her to marry someone else so he offers to buy her an antique shop to keep her busy.)

Yes, NBC has behaved badly. And certainly, honcho Jeff Zucker is hardly an example of Alexandrian leadership. But you know what? The world is full of bad bosses. All that matters, all that you can control, is your own performance.

And what of Letterman's? He is a skilled comedian who can speak feelingly of things that matter (9/11; his heart surgery and his father's early death from heart disease). But years after leaving NBC, he is still bitter about being passed over for Leno, and he was passed over for the very prickliness he exhibits nightly, which doesn't play well in Peoria. (Leno is actually a lot more cutting. But he gets away with it, because he's nicer. Note that the most devastating, memorable line to come out of the whole debacle was his stiletto quip that the way to get Letterman to ignore you is to marry him.)

Nonetheless, with his nightly performance, Letterman enters what I like to call the literature of rejection. Like Medea, Achilles, Lucifer and Heathcliff, he can't let go. He can't walk away. Fortunately for us, he's a comedian rather than a tragedian, so the stage isn't littered with bodies.

History, however, is peopled with assassins, terrorists, dictators and other all-too-real murderers who also had a disproportionate rage at rejection, who never understood that, in the words of the movie "The Phantom Menace," "there's always a bigger fish."

The line between a Letterman and a Lee Harvey Oswald is the razor's edge.