Dad, this one’s for you

Over many decades in the Irish-Catholic community of South Buffalo, N.Y., Tim Russert built an honorable middle-class existence. His near-fatal World War II experience was a reminder of the preciousness of life; his holding two jobs, as garbageman and newspaper truck driver, was an example of hard work and discipline; and his optimistic yet no-nonsense outlook became a source of inspiration to his family. But the aforementioned Tim Russert is not the 54-year-old hard-nosed interviewer of “Meet the Press” fame -- it’s his 80-year-old father, affectionately called Big Russ. Now Russert the son has written a loving paean to the common sense values of his dad, titled “Big Russ & Me.”

But unlike on “Meet the Press,” the NBC news star isn’t using his subject’s past words to expose posturing or a lack of clarity. For Russert the son, his dad -- and dads everywhere -- gave us rules to live by.

This has truly been a Bush-bashing book season. Do you feel left out publishing a warm father-son memoir?

It’s going to be fascinating to see how this does, because you have the books on the right and the books on the left, and this one’s right there in the middle saying, “Let’s all just take a deep breath and say to our dads, ‘Hey, thanks, you taught me a lot, and I really appreciate those lessons of life.’ ” There are a lot of books about mothers and daughters, and very few about fathers and sons. It’s a unique kind of relationship, and I poured my heart into this. I wanted to affirm my dad’s life and all the other Big Russes out there. On Sept. 11 this nation learned how important policemen and firemen and rescue workers are in our lives. I think these middle-class dads who won a war and came home and built the middle class deserve to be saluted, and that’s why I wrote the book.

Is something missing from the way children are raised these days?

I wish my kind of childhood on my son and his friends. We didn’t schedule play dates. We just walked outside and there were kids there. It was so less structured, and more fun and interesting and creative. We have 35 million people in the country who don’t get out of high school, 4 million seniors and only 3 million are going to graduate. It’s tough. If they don’t have any societal skills or culture or values instilled in them the way they were instilled in me, it’s hard as they go out and try to compete and function in the world.

Your book may not be political, but there is a way it reflects this election year. Do you think whomever we choose for president should be a father figure?

In many ways. For example, yesterday I saw George Bush going through a receiving line, and there was a little girl who’d lost her mom on Sept. 11, and he wheeled around and just took her head and pressed it against his chest. The day before, I saw John Kerry reading books to kids and one of them said, “Can I hug you?” So it’s very touching in that regard. I think the president does play a role in shaping the nation’s psyche. I don’t mean it to be paternalistic in nature, but I think you have to play a role in times of crisis, particularly where you reassure a nation and lead it, and that’s been the traditional role of a father.

You may have a higher-profile, higher-paying job than your father had, but one way your career is old-fashioned is that you’ve worked for one company, NBC, for 20 years.

And in 2000 I signed a 12-year contract. It was unheard of. People said, “Why are you signing your life away? You have the No. 1 show. You could get a bidding war going.” And I said, “What would I do? Go to ABC and do ‘This Week’?” I don’t want to do prime-time magazine shows, or the evening news. My favorite ballplayers -- Yogi Berra, Cal Ripken -- they played for the same team their whole careers. I think it’s a sign of loyalty, and I’m glad to be a part of it.

Your interview technique is justly famous. How likely is your wife, writer Maureen Orth, to use statements you’ve made in the past to win an argument?

(Laughs) That’s a great question. Since Adam and Eve, that’s happened, taking [words] and throwing them right back at you. “You told me ... “ “All right, all right ...” Hey, 20 years so far. I’m doing something right.

Can the name Big Russ be handed down to you now?

Well, I heard my son the other day saying, “I gotta check that with the Big Guy.” So I’m now the Big Guy. I can think of a lot of worse things that an 18-year-old kid could call me, so I’ll take it.