We don't understand the appeal of Larry King.

Not his appeal as a man. That's not for us to debate (although apparently seven women, one of them twice, think plenty of his appeal as a man, whether it's that crooked smile, or his millions, or the lifetime supply of suspenders). No, it's the appeal of Larry as a television personality that puzzles us; yet there he is, year after year, nine o'clock on CNN, crooked teeth and nasal voice be damned.

But whether it is Ann Coulter or Anna Nicole Smith, David Blaine or David Berkowitz, Elizabeth Taylor, Elizabeth Hurley, or Elizabeth Dole, George Bush or George Carlin, they all find time to talk to Larry. He is television's grumpy old uncle, who you can't help but invite to seder every year. The uncle who sits at the end of the table complaining that the meat is too hard, forgetting everyone's name, rambling on about something from yesteryear. And what is the appeal of that?

But then, what Jewish family doesn't have that grumpy old uncle?

You are America's uncle, Larry King.