Change is good. Well, I don't know about GOOD, precisely, unless your notion of good has to do with being cold, unpopular and generally pretty earth-shattering. The Model T eventually fell victim to the winds of change, I suppose number 15 million was as good or better, than number one, but none the less, the world changed around it, and it was either change or die. Same goes for the beloved original Volkswagen Beetle, the Citroen 2CV (a tiny, tinny, snail of a thing, endowed with a huge sunroof, and never sold in the U.S., I don't think,) Fiat's Topolino and 500. Funny; no matter how much people love you, and for whatever reason, periodically, even the most staunchly practical person must break out of their old habits, for the simple fact that the world around them is different. The notion of "change or die," as I have said, is HIGHLY unsettling. Is true change an extension of yourself? Ehhhhhhhhhh, dare I say, even Madonna has completely rethought herself a few times, and that, of course, was her secret to staying on top for so long. And even now, has she disappeared completely, or just rethought herself again onto the mommy-track, only to return in ten years or so, obviously not "Like a Virgin," and more like Gloria Swanson? Beverly Sills, maybe? Former Jefferson Airplane/Starship lead singer Grace Slick has freely, publicly admitted that her touring days are long over, citing, essentially, that she were best to go out with her dignity intact.
Although, even as much as change ever occurs, it is, frequently, chiefly cosmetic, deigned by what is stylish or unstylish, or newly thought practical. Icons are as they are, in great measure, because people have learned to trust them. What do Ford of Europe's Ka, Fiesta, and Anglia have in common, other than their respective spots in the markets of their given times? The four-cylinder Kent engine, produced in various guises from the late 1930s to today. Populism respects reliability, and long service, and at the same time, expects you to be the Next Big Idea. Some call it "having legs." But, boy, it's almost un-American not to go until you no longer can, having been trounced so horrendously by newcomers, and taken out in an ignomonious ball of fire. Being a lifelong Cheesehead, my hope is that Brett Favre will have the wisdom to help develop his own replacement, and not just go until he suffers a Joe Theismann-esque crushing. Choose any long-standing icon you like, from Mike Tyson to Steve Yzerman, and pray chiefly, that change isn't forced by embarrassment.
Inevitably, cases exist frequently, where change is simply forced by the fact that you ARE unsettled, and don't cut it anymore. Or don't THINK you cut it anymore. Eternal is the quest for Zen mastery.