Paul Newman, 1925-2008

Those piercing blue eyes.

That devilish smile. Or alternately, the pout.

He could be the outcast, the rouge or the guy around the corner.

But always there was something about him that simmered, that was unexpected, that was real.

Today, the New York Times is calling him "one of the last of the great 20th-century movie stars."

And he certainly was a star by every measure of the term.

Like all great stars Paul Newman came alive on the screen. His face, his stance, his style, his frame -- all were made for the camera. He wasn't a big guy. But he was always Very Big on the screen. At the same time, he could play an intimate scene in a way that would make women melt and make guys think: "So, that's the way it's done."

He exemplified the American spirit and captured that spirit in westerns, small-town dramas, mysteries, adventure films, irreverent comedies, urban film noir and one of the all-time great buddy movies, Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid.

Paul Newman was a real guy who knew who he was and understood what he was all about. He cared about his country and the world and he never hesitated to act on his beliefs in a positive way that sought to not only advance his views but benefit others as well.

I like the fact that he was married to the same gal for 50 years and that he always maintained a well-grounded, sensible, measured sense of himself.

Paul Newman was a Eugene McCarthy delegate to the Democratic National Convention in 1968 when I was just one of the "McCarthy kids." I worked alongside him that year during the Indiana primary in Indianapolis and again at the convention in Chicago. He didn't have an entourage or a limo or a press agent or handlers.

He was Paul Newman. That was his actual name. That's who he was. And that was way more than enough.