Crotchety rambler Andy Rooney has passed away, just one month after his final “60 Minutes” appearance and slightly more than a week after suffering complications from minor surgery. In honor of his passing, I’ll be just as respectful about his death as he was about Kurt Cobain’s.

Rooney was an unremarkable, cranky bore whose bitching about simple annoyances struck a nerve with other aging white people who were frightened by or opposed to change. His view of America was essentially a collection of Rockwell paintings, and he complained about any facet of life that strayed from that impossible vision. When technological developments improved commerce or people’s lives, Rooney only saw the inconvenience of learning something new. In every TV appearance of his that I saw, he came off to me as intellectually incurious, and he happily took a paycheck from CBS for 60 years while brushing away the fans who sent him letters or tried to approach him in public. I don’t understand why people who didn’t know him should stop and mourn a man who never cared for people he didn’t know.

Rest in peace, Andy Rooney. The world has moved on.

Just three weeks after his final “60 Minutes” ramble, Andy Rooney almost died. At least, that’s what I’m inferring given CBS’s terse statement.

Rooney underwent minor surgery last week and suffered serious complications. For that reason, he remains in the hospital, but his condition is stable.

The Rooney family asks that their privacy be respected at this difficult time. [CBS]

I don’t mean to be insensitive, but the man is 92 YEARS OLD. His skin is like loose parchment draped over rotting meat. There’s no such thing as MINOR surgery for someone this old. He could probably bleed out from a paper cut. That’s why I mailed him a “get well” card in the freshest, sharpest envelope I could find.

There was some excellent TV journalism on “60 Minutes” last night, none of which had anything to do with Andy Rooney. If you want to learn or see something worthwhile, I recommend watching the piece about the relationship between Fort Bragg and the tsunami-ravaged city of Otsuchi, or the jaw-dropping life of Alex Honnold, the best solo free climber in the world.

But of course the big news is that Andy Rooney closed the show for what we hope will be a final time (above), which was preceded by a 13-minute interview/retrospective puff piece about the curmudgeonly 92-year-old (video of that below). And here’s the short version: Andy Rooney is a real dick. He’s not just a grump on TV, he also resents being recognized by fans, refuses to sign autographs, and doesn’t respond to any fan mail. So if you see Andy Rooney on the street or in a restaurant, don’t say hello. Tell him “f*ck you.”

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Oh man. This is a great mash-up of “Andy Rooney saying Andy Rooney things” by Holy Taco. Listening to a collection of random Rooneyisms is only slightly less coherent than his regular stream of consciousness. I love it.

“That’s a strange name, Holy Taco. What kind of meat would be in a holy taco? I guess it depends on your religion. Christians might have fish, I suppose. Jews don’t eat pork or shellfish, and I’ve heard that Muslims don’t eat pork either, but I’ve never confirmed that. I don’t like tacos, but I still attend church every Sunday. I enjoy the scripture, but I’m not much of a singer when it comes to hymns. I like hymns, though. I find them soothing. Today’s music isn’t soothing, it’s loud and percussive. If you ask me, it doesn’t even sound like music. Whatever happened to a pipe organ and four-part harmony? That works just fine for me, and you know what they say: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Do you ever get tired? I do. I get tired a lot. I used to just get tired at the end of the day before falling asleep. Sometimes I’d get tired in the middle of the day, and I’d drink a cup of coffee or take a nap. But now I’m tired a lot more often. I’m even tired right after I wake up! That’s why this Sunday will be my last regular appearance on “60 Minutes.” They say I can come back any time I want, but no one seems very enthusiastic about that. So I guess I’m retired.

That’s a funny word, “retired.” Re- means again, and tired means tired, so I guess I’m tired again. Lots of other words begin with “re-.” Remain. Recite. Review. Repeat. Resist. Return. Rebuff. Receive. Remember. I remember a lot of things, but sometimes I forget. Lately I’ve been forgetting a lot of things, like where I put my wallet or… there was something else, but I forget. And now that’s another thing I forgot!

Another “re-” word that bothers me is “recycle.” My granddaughter says we have to recycle, because that’s the only way to save the Earth. But I don’t know. I like throwing things away. I’ve done it all my life, and I don’t see why I should change now. That’s how we’ve always done it. You have something, then it gets old and boring, so you throw it away.

…I guess I’m being thrown away now, too. But that’s fine. I wouldn’t want to be recycled.