“America’s Slowest Rising Comedian,” Ronnie Schell, finally clocked out at 94. And honestly, for a city where the express train suddenly becomes a local at 59th Street and that ‘luxury’ high-rise across the street has been ‘nearing completion’ since the Dinkins administration, 94 years for a slow rise? That’s practically an overnight success story in New York. We've got open mics where the audience leaves *before* the first comedian finishes their set, and they still haven't moved an inch up the ladder since the Giuliani era. Schell, you were one of us, even if you didn't know it. Schell, apparently, starred opposite Jim Nabors on some old show. But let's be real, in this city, every single one of us is starring opposite our landlord, trying to make rent, and our “rise” usually involves climbing five flights of stairs because the elevator’s been out for a week. We're all “slowly rising” just trying to get a decent bagel before 10 AM without having to mortgage a kidney. You want to see slow? Try waiting for your “delivery in 20-30 minutes” Seamless order on a Friday night, or waiting for the MTA to acknowledge that yes, the A train *is* indeed stuck between stations *again*. So, condolences to the man, but let's not pretend his 'slow rise' was some unique struggle. In New York, 'slow and steady' isn't a race strategy, it's just *living*. And dying at 94 after a slow rise? Sounds like a decent run, especially if you managed to avoid getting hit by a Citi Bike or stepping in whatever mystery liquid is pooling on the sidewalk at 3 AM. He lived long enough to see the Mets collapse at least 50 times – that's a kind of longevity we all aspire to.