20th Century 3 Degrees

This was a eulogy I delivered some years ago for my Grandmother. A couple of snapshots for one story of one person from the 2oth century.


Well, Aloha

Father, I will tell you that my Grandmother loved her faith – it sustained her every day of her many years. It taught her humility, generosity, and a concern always for those less fortunate, for she always felt that she herself was quite fortunate. And wherever she lived, wherever she went, she was most concerned about how she could get to Mass.

You know that my Grandmother was a registered nurse for 25 years at Georgetown University Hospital. A working mother in the 1930s. As a nurse she touched so many lives, she worked for Dr. John Walsh who delivered Jackie Kennedy’s children. It’s personal for me though for she helped nurse my mother through 5 difficult pregnancies; 4 boys and Anne and Anne if you had come into the world as a boy she would have walked out of the delivery room and retired on the spot. And through Anne, who is a successful and respected nurse herself, Grandma’s work, her vocation continues on.

And after she retired and said goodbye to my Grandfather, who died more than 24 years ago, well, she couldn’t just stop working. She worked so hard, so long, caring for her own four boys, Grandfathers now, she had to keep going, stay connected, and contribute. She got on the bus, walked or caught a ride to where she wanted to go. She never learned to drive. “Honey”, she’d say, “I’ll take the bus.”

She worked for the Red Cross helping out at blood drives in the area. That gave her such pleasure being with the good people who do that vital work. And thanking the people who come to donate. You know it was just more fun when she was there.

And for the past few years I’ve had the privilege of keeping her up-to-date on the happenings at the White House, more specifically, in the Greetings Office. She has many friends there still and I know they’ll miss her. She got on that bus every week for no pay for almost 17 years to help get those cards and photos out. While it is true, that politics is at the margins of most people’s lives the work that those folks do helps every President regardless of party, be he scoundrel or saint, stay connected to the people he serves. And you know the pleasure and joy of those receiving those cards. I am so proud to be able to call y’all friends.

All that she was, all that she accomplished, I think she missed her true calling. We could all be retired living off the proceeds from the diet book Grandma should have written – how I thrived through 1 Great Depression, 2 World Wars, and 4 sons on a diet of onions, cantaloupe, grapefruit, and fudge. I mean, I’ll have what she had – uh, hold the onions.

I started by saying, Aloha, Grandma’s favorite greeting. Grandma loved Hawaii. The Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach. This giant pink hotel. She went several times and never stopped wanting to return. There is so much to love about Hawaii but she loved that Royal Hawaiian because it is pink and because it is the hub of activity on the beach. So I’ll just ask that when you go there; standing on the beach as the sun comes up in the mornings over Diamond Head or Haleakala; or on a lanai watching the beautiful sun set in the Pacific, think of her.

She loved to travel. Hated to fly. Loved to travel. She loved California, the Mountain West, and the Canadian Rockies. And always she came back with new friends and stories to tell. And a bag. Usually a colorful bag – large – huge. She loved handbags. Some of you may have one or two.

She loved golf. Never played the game, but loved watching it on television and loved riding the cart at Joe and Lally’s down there in Bethany. Again, I think it was the green, green landscapes and she just thought the world of Tiger Woods. She loved watching him succeed and thought he embodied a classy demeanor that she admired.

She also admired Cal Ripken , and couldn’t the Orioles use him back, ah never mind. But, I think with Cal she saw a little of herself because for years and years he came to the job no matter what, stayed out of trouble, and conducted himself with dignity and class.

Well, there’s so much more, I’ve hardly begun but I’ll finish here and say that I’m not so sad today that I cannot see the light of her long long life in the eyes of all of you here today.

Finally, I’ll say that I’ll miss her and just ask that you teach your children the good things she taught you and in that way too she will live forever. We all will.

Thank you. Aloha oy. Mahalo.

A Letter for Realz

The Honorable James H. Webb
Webb for Senate
P.O. Box Blah Blah Blah
Richmond, Virginia

Dear Jim,

May I call you Jim, great, thanks.

Look, Jim, I don’t really have much use for the current junior senator from the Commonwealth of Virginia. I happen to believe that George Felix Allen is a drooling idiot and a candy-ass golf cart cowboy wannabe but the boy does have $6.6 million cash on hand for the reelect and that alone commands a measure of respect. Mind a little free advice? OK, here goes.

To begin with, I know you don’t really need this nonsense. That’s coming through pretty loud and clear. Saw you talking to George Stephanopoulos’ hair on Sunday. As is manifestly clear you are right about Iraq, you don’t need to play that stupid game of timetables and responding to anything any of those blowdried gasbags ask you (you feelin’ me Chris Mathews and Tim ‘little russ’ Russert). In other words, answer the question you want to be asked and stick to it. No sarcasm neither – works at a fund raiser, maybe, but not with the gasbags. Here again, you’re right, the war profiteers (i.e. Haliburton) are rakin’ it in while our men and women in uniform grit it out in the suck , pickin’ sand out of unspeakable places and wondering if this is the day an IED makes a grease stain out of ‘em on Highway 8 between Hillah and Karbala.

Those brave Americans and their families are still the only ones President Bystander askin’ for sacrifice while Allen and the rest of ‘em talk about the injustice of the ‘death’ tax. Honestly, how many privileged sons and daughters of the Commonwealth will ever be singed by the estate tax. Now ask yourself and Allen while you’re at it how many sons and daughters of the Commonwealth are serving their fellow citizens in the United States Armed Forces – think there’s much overlap between the two groups. Doubt it. Godawful ain’t it?

This is why we need you. You and other members of this ‘band of brothers’ running in various races around the country. Leadership, oversight, common sense, and courage that’s what you’re offering. George Felix just bringin’ more of the same. Do you get me here – the Cheney Administration and their meat puppets in Congress like Allen don’t have any plan, they just got more of the same. Cronyism, cover-ups, fear and division. That’s what they got.

Now clearly, serving in the United States Senate ain’t rocket science. Exhibit A is George Allen. Exhibit B would be, oh, I don’t know, Norm Coleman, James Inhofe, sweet fancy Moses, take your pick, I won’t belabor the point. I will, however, thank you for offering to serve. The world is clearly too dangerous a place to continue to entrust stewardship of our future and our children’s future to these clowns. OK, let’s wrap this up.

Just a couple more things here, brother. First, you never know where the lies are gonna come from so don’t even try to defend against their shit. Whenever asked to respond to some outrageous bullroar just look into their eyes and say, “there he goes again”. Got it? Worked for Reagan, am I right people? Worked for the Gip’ It can work for you. Use it. It’s a nice little rhetorical trick that’ll allow you to marshal your thoughts before you launch.

Second and finally, the Rovians (and Allen ain’t nothin’ but a grinnin’ droolin’ acolyte of Atwater’s ratfuckers from back in the day) will attack you at your strongest perceived point. Once questions are raised there all else becomes grist for the cable mill, ask John Kerry, Max Cleland or Jack By God Murtha. Good men. Honorable and young once. I know you’ll do better. Be prepared.

Keep fightin’ brother. You’ve got a story to tell. Go out and tell it. And win.

Please.

Win.

With more respect than is apparent here,

Vulgarian