Just hours after Stephen Colbert filmed his final appearance as host of CBS’ venerable “Late Show,” he dropped the mic and picked it up again in — of all places — Monroe, Mich., hosting “Only in Monroe,” on the public access station.
Monroe, population 20,000 along the River Raisin, world headquarters of La-Z-Boy and the boyhood home of one George Armstrong Custer, the Civil War general.
Score one for the little guy. And score one for democracy.
Colbert, one of the most brilliant of his genre and his time, was not flailing at his craft. Far from it. Instead, he unceremoniously left Paramount/CBS’ late-night bell cow show — because of economics, said the company, but we can’t help but think that his ouster was a result of mounting political pressure. Colbert’s biting criticism of the Trump administration placed him in the cross hairs of the Trump White House.
Colbert returned to Monroe, the last place he hosted a show before starting an extraordinary 11-year stretch on the “Late Show,” succeeding David Letterman and cementing his place on the Mt. Rushmore of late night TV. It was as if he was thumbing his nose at The Man, leaving the polished marble and cashmere of New York and appearing at the comparatively burlap and damp-mop staging in Monroe — but to a larger effect — with no sleep. A heroic feat.
(Yes, Stephen. We see what you did there.)
At a moment when many Americans are debating whether courage still exists in public life, Colbert reminded us of what courage looks like. For years, his satire cut through the noise with precision, intelligence and moral clarity — a modern-day Mark Twain. Whether Americans agreed with him politically or not, they knew where he stood. At times Colbert felt like one of us, an everyman making his voice heard, though perhaps with a bit more erudite and well-spoken voice.
Back in Monroe, he brought with him remarkably accomplished yet ordinarily mundane Michigan friends to the studio with him: rocker Jack White as volunteer musical director, actor Steve Buscemi, actor Jeff Daniels, rapper Eminem who appears as a “fire marshal.” Colbert even interviews his Late Show successor, comedian and entertainment mogul Byron Allen via FaceTime.
From Twain to Dave Chapelle to Jon Stewart, America’s truth tellers have often carried jokes in one hand and warnings in the other. Humor has a way of disarming us long enough to hear uncomfortable truths. Historically, satirists have been our best hope to expose tyranny. Colbert has taken his place in the order. His brilliance was to make us laugh while at the same time asking us to think about who were as Americans and where we were headed as a country.
In Monroe, the town that brought our dads and grandads the world’s most comfortable recliner, and the home of an infamous combat general who led his men to perish at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, this would not be Colbert’s last stand. Nor would Monroe mark the place where Colbert will choose to rest on his laurels.
Appearing on Monroe public access was not accidental. It was a statement.
It felt less like a retreat and more like defiance.
Less like a defeat and more like a final salute to the very idea that ordinary Americans still deserve an unfiltered voice willing to speak truth to power.
There was something beautifully American about it all. The famous broadcaster returning to the modest room where he appeared before he was this famous. It was a reminder that democracy does not only live in vaunted halls of multimillion dollar studios or the halls of Washington.
Sometimes it lives in a small Michigan public access television station on a random Friday.
Thanks, Stephen Colbert.
We see what you did there.
Byron McCauley is a regional columnist for USA Today Co. Email him at bmccauley@usatodayco.com; call (513) 504-8915.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Stephen Colbert scores one for the little man in Monroe, MI
Reporting by Byron McCauley, Holland Sentinel / The Holland Sentinel
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
