This day means so much to me because Tony Bennett was our American Corrective.

Where there is division, he reached across divides.

Where there is rudeness, he said “thank you” at the end of his duets.

Where some among us live misshapen lives, crushed by the weight of privilege, he was born the son of a grocer and a seamstress from Calabria, in southern Italy.

Where there is mean-spiritedness, he was unfailingly kind.

Where there is crudity, he was class.

Where there is despair, he radiated happiness.

Where there is misogyny, he welcomed women—Lady Gaga, Amy Winehouse, Faith Hill, Aretha Franklin, KD Lang— as his equals. Look at the expression on his face here:

Where there is selfishness and self-absorption, he was generous and open-hearted.

Where there is ugliness, he was Grace.

Where the the notion of “duty” is dismissed, he sang “San Francisco” every time as if it were the first time.

Where there is falsity and deceit, he sang that song with an honesty that would’ve embarrassed performers less sure of themselves and their gifts.

Where there is failure, he failed, too.

He came back from drug addiction to us. He came back FOR us.

It took a 96-year-old man to show us what we’re capable of in our future, if only we’re willing to listen to voices that call us to higher places, where cable cars climb halfway to the stars.

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