On Thursday evening, near a window in a banquet hall overlooking the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. in Times Square, Andy Rooney sidled up to a makeshift bar and asked for a bourbon.

No bourbon, explained the bartender. Wine?

Mr. Rooney shook his head no, furled his massive white eyebrows, and shuffled off into the crowd. The barkeep, having just witnessed the potential genesis of a future Andy Rooney rant on 60 Minutes (“The problem with cocktails parties today, is that there are no cocktails…) kept a straight face.

A few minutes later, Mr. Rooney stood nearby a plate of cured meats and talked with The New Yorker's Ken Auletta about football. "We're both Giants fans," explained Mr. Auletta. NYTV, who sports a terrycloth Redskins bathrobe at home, looked for conversation elsewhere.

We had gathered on the second floor of Disney's Times Square Studios at 44th and Broadway to celebrate the newly published book "Peter Jennings: A Reporter's Life," which bills itslef as "an intimate portrait of the late, legendary journalist and news anchor, in the words of his family, friends, and collagues."  read more »

What a manipulative piece of pap. The report began with people expressing shock and dismay at the graphic trailer for the film. Then it moved to survivors of the victims of Flight 93, to claim that they were being healed by the film. Dawn Fratangelo signed off—

a reality too grim for some moviegoers, but too important for loved ones left behind.

In short: another ad, disguised as reporting. Brian, baby, be real.