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the most recognizable faces in the world, even if what he was first and most famous for—spinning records and jabbering with teenagers—seemed a bit insubstantial.
    After studying at Syracuse University, where he was a disc jockey on the student radio station, Dick got a job as a news announcer. By 1952 he had his own easy-listening afternoon radio show,
Dick Clark’s Caravan of Music
and a few months later the station’s television affiliate began an afternoon show called
Bandstand
. In the summer of 1956,
Bandstand
’s host was fired and the station turned to the right man at the right time, young Dick Clark. “I was 26 years old, looked the part, knew the music, and was very comfortable on television,” he recalled. “‘They said, ‘Do you want it?’ And I said, ‘Oh, man, do I want it!’ ”
    By the following October, the show was being broadcast nationwide with a new name,
American Bandstand,
and every weekday afternoon as many as 20 million teenage viewers eagerly watched their peers cut the rug with the newest moves like the Twist, the Pony, and the Watusi while the day’s hottest hits and newest singles blasted the studio room. At song’s end, a breathless raver often rated a record in a brief interview, and “It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it!” became a national catchphrase.
    Handsome and glib, Dick Clark, the man who would become “the world’s oldest teenager,” was the music-savvy older brother host, and from that position of authority he presided over this grassroots revolution in American culture.
American Bandstand
was the first show to use television to spread the gospel of rock ’n’ roll and introduced audiences to acts as varied as Dusty Springfield, Buffalo Springfield, and Rick Springfield. It helped give rise to the Top-40 radio format, made rock ’n’ roll a palatable product for visual media, convinced advertisers of the influence teenagers could have on steering popular taste, and became a cultural touchstone for the baby boomer generation. “I played records, the kids danced, and America watched and, at that moment in time, the world realized that kids might rule the world,” Dick said.
    As much a businessman as a television personality, Dick was especially deft at packaging entertainment products for popularconsumption. For more than half a century he built a juggernaut empire, Dick Clark Productions, from the shoulders of
American Bandstand,
though even he acknowledged that many of his products were more diverting than ennobling. There were redundant awards shows like the
American Music Awards,
compilation shows like
TV’s Bloopers & Practical Jokes,
and painful-to-watch, campy television-movie dramas. “I owe my success to knowing the mind of the broad audience,” he said. “I’ve often dealt with frivolous things that didn’t really count. I’m not ashamed of that.”
    Beginning in 1972 he became synonymous with one of the biggest nights of the year. His
Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve
became a tradition, with Dick hosting the festivities, introducing the entertainment acts, and, of course, counting down to midnight as the ball dropped in New York’s Times Square. But in 2004 he missed the festivities after suffering a major stroke that left him partially paralyzed with his speech affected. The following year he returned for an emotional appearance on the show, telling the audience of how the stroke impaired him and that his “speech is not perfect but is getting there.” Unfortunately, Dick’s speech never again really “got there,” though he continued taking part in the show in a diminished role. In 2006, Dick summed it up for us: “I accomplished my childhood dream, to be in show business. Everybody should be so lucky to have their dreams come true.” Indeed.
    At 82, Dick died of a heart attack following surgery to fix an enlarged prostate. He was cremated and his ashes scattered in the Pacific Ocean.

ROBERTO CLEMENTE
    AUGUST