(Herewith Inspired by The Wellstone Elegy: November 1, 2002, by Peggy Noonan, Journalist, Author, and Aquatic Mammal Divine.)
My friend, I miss you and send you love.
The week has been ... something. I watched it from where I am, in theplace beyond. It's wonderful here. I'm working as a lifeguard again, and Ilove it. It's a little crowded, though, and an awful lot of people seem towant to talk to me, which I'll get to in a minute. But first you and I have to talk. Iknow what you were trying to do all week, or what you sort of meant to bedoing. But, Peg, it's been bad.
Peg. Please, for the love of God -- who's in the next hammock, by theway? -- shut the hell up.
I'm not kidding. The adjustment's been tough enough. First thing,Goodman, Schwerner, and Chaney come up and start asking me about kicking offthe 1980 campaign down by the earthen dam there in Philadelphia, and aboutwhat all that stuff about states' rights was. I tried to be charming, and Iused all the sunny optimism that disarmed even my political opponents, asyou know. Mostly, though, they just wanted to talk, so we did. You'll beamazed at what I think is one of the best parts about this place. Twowords: no grudges.
Seriously. Most of the Founders are up here (though Franklin's still inPurgatory) and James Madison and I had a nice chat about how he wasdifferent from Alfonso Calero. We started with their hairstyles and workedfrom there. He said he didn't necessarily agree that the Contras were themoral equivalents of his bunch; for one thing, he said, he was a lot betterat designing a balance of power than razing a hamlet, and that he wouldn'teven know which end of an M-16 you blow into. He pointed out that a lotfewer people died at the Constitutional Convention than did in Nicaragua inthe 1980s. I told him about how it was Morning in America again, and hesaid he was glad to hear it. I think we're playing tennis some time nextweek. I'll be pretty busy until then. A couple of thousand Guatemalans wantto say hello.
Which is why, the next time you see him in the Green Room or aroundtown, you should tell old Ollie not to worry about anything. TheNicaraguans are really nice people, especially all their beautifulchildren. He's going to enjoy meeting them. And I promise I won't spend toomuch time kidding him about selling me out at his trial. But he's got toexpect me to have a little fun. Does he know how to laugh yet?
Peg, I have to tell you, I know things now that I didn't fully knowbefore. First of all, most of that “family values” stuff is bunk. Really.You'd be amazed at how few people up here actually care that somebody's assis showing on HBO. And if that judge down in Alabama thinks he's got histicket punched because he put up a two-ton 10 Commandments where it didn'tbelong, he's got another think coming, I'll tell you. You should hearAquinas and St. Augustine laughing at Pat Robertson. They all get togetherto watch the 700 Club the way kids used to get together to watch theStooges. Even old Luther cracks a smile, and he's the grimmest guy I've metsince Andropov.
They'd like you all to love each other. They'd like you all to treateach other as equals. They're really serious about you all being stewardsof the world you were handed, so watch out for the rivers and the ozonelayer. They don't spend a lot of time worrying about rap music and theInternet. Even in eternity, there's no time to waste on the knuckleheadstuff. And I've looked everywhere, Peg, and there aren't any stem cellshere. No embryos, either. If you can pass the word, Peg -- nobodyhere wants anybody to die of Alzheimer's or Parkinson's. It's not part ofanyone's plan. If you can cure something down there, you should cure something. Tellyou the truth, if I'd had the choice I'd have eaten the little buggersout of the petri dish with a spoon.
Anyway, I've been watching the coverage of my funeral and, Peg,seriously, I don't recognize the guy you're all talking about. I mean, youshould all remember that I had a high old time with my life. I wasa young, good-looking guy in Hollywood at a time when that was a greatthing to be. I got around, is what I did. How come nobody mentions that?How come everybody runs clips from Knute Rockne -- All American, a kinda decent movie, but not from The Killers or Kings Row? I did love my first craft a little, you know.
There aren't any statues here, which really says something to me:They take people for what they are. So, the other day, when you werewriting all those nice things, there was no need to leave my firstmarriage, my first wife, and both of my first two children out of it. Andthat story you told on TV, about how I sent back your first speech allmarked up with a nice note and you were dumb enough to think I was beingserious? I mean, thanks, but it made me sound like, well, like anamiable dunce -- Clifford's going to love it at cocktails tonight that Iquoted him -- and I wouldn't have hired you if that was the case. And, ifit's OK, I wish you wouldn't tell that story about wanting to massage myfoot any more. Gary Cooper won't shut up about it.
Tell them to stop, Peg. I mean, really. Tell them to stop. Thatbuilding in Washington is big and ugly. I don't want to be on the dime, ifonly because my Dad told me while we were walking along the river lastnight that it would really bother him if I bumped FDR. And I've gotten tolike Hamilton. He took the whole Contra thing in stride, and we go ridingtogether a lot. He likes being on the $10 bill, had me explain to him whyit was called a "sawbuck." He really wants to stay there, and that's just fine. Tell Groverthat, OK? I'd tell him myself but… ah, I don't think I'll be seeing him, ifyou know what I mean.
Really, Peg, I live in a place without monuments now. I like it thatway. We take each other as we are here. No spin, not even from historians,which is why Plutarch and both Durants are running the newsstand together,where I go to pick up the trades every morning. (Geez, that Harry Potterthing is a gold-mine, isn't it?) Anyway, there's nothing here but theessential people, flaws and all. You don't just get your sins washed away, Peg.You have to face them and acknowledge them and forgive them yourself beforeHe gets around to it. So I live in a place beyond flattery, beyondbanal rhetorical sophistry, a place that transcends the kind oflilac-scented bushwah I used to pay you for. Hey, I worked in Hollywood andthen in politics. I was due for a break from that kind of stuff. I live ina place without monuments and I'm happy here.
You're going to make it, Peg, really, and Paul Wellstone's alreadysigned up for a chat, as has Jack Kennedy, who can't figure out how he gottangled up in that column you wrote a couple of years back, but he thinksyou're kind of a looker, so that's OK, isn't it? Be well. I'm off to themovies. Just me and 246 Marines. They told me they wanted to see Bonzo GoesTo College.
Who was I to argue with them?
Charles P. Pierce is a staff writer for The Boston Globe Magazine and a contributing writer for Esquire. He also appears regularly on National Public Radio.
