"What a nightmare I had last night. I dreamt that I was a Washington party and I had to choose between Dick Cheney taking me on a hunting trip or Ted Kennedy driving me home." - Jay Leno
Edward "Shamu" Kennedy was rushed to the Mass General Hospital this past weekend after suffering from a seizure. After tests were conducted it was determined that he had a malignant glioma of the brain. It is the deadliest of brain cancers from which few have survived for more than three years.
I don't wish any suffering upon the portly Senator from Massachusetts, but I cannot understand the almost godlike esteem given the man. I can see why there was concern about the news of the cancer. I felt the same way. I don't how the news of him being rushed to the hospital was received across the country, but it was down right pathetic here in Massachusetts. It was this and not the public's reaction to the news of his cancer that bothered me.
Nearly all of the local stations' programs were interrupted for the non-stop all day coverage of his admittance into the hospital. I had only seen that kind of reaction to a news story during the Sept. 11 attacks on the WTC and Pentagon.
If I hadn't known better, I would have thought a great man or a member of a royal family had died! ... But it was ONLY a Senator. ...It was ONLY Ted Kennedy. To make matters worse he'd collapsed while preparing food for himself.
The reporters were praising his accomplishments as a U.S. Senator. They were quick to cite all the bills that bore his finger prints - and they were notable bills. I noticed however, they made no mention of the bills bearing his foot prints - those he'd voted against because they served the interests of the common folk and not him. In number those he gave the thumbs down to were more numerous than those he supported.
Most recent of these are the measures to erect wind mills out in the ocean to help generate electricity and to ease the burden on oil. Why would he vote against such measures? Why, it would mess up his view of the ocean from his back porch at his palatial estate. He would be able to see them, never mind that they would be just specks on the horizon. Imagine the poor old bastard sitting there trying to enjoy his fresh lobster washed down with his 10 am cocktails and having to look at those eyesores!
The editor-in-chief of "Twelve," which will publish Teddie's memoirs, said of the Senator, "Mr. Kennedy is 'walking, talking history'.."
(Gives new meaning to "Money talks and bullshit walks," doesn't it?)
Other possible titles include: "A Bridge Too Far" - "Driving Miss Kopechne" - "Splash" - "Wrong Turn" - "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" - "Driveby Drowning" - "Guide to the Bars of New England and Washington, D.C." - "Tryst and Shout" -
You can bet that Teddy’s “autobiography” will either ignore or gloss over his extramarital affairs, Mary Jo’s murder, his drunkenness, his cheating in college, and how Mary Jo’s death led to his father’s death. To do so would require a level of honesty and character forever out of his reach.
From the movie Animal House, I can imagine that Dean Vernon Wormer was not speaking to Flounder, but to (Shamu) Ted, when he said, "...Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life." (Except if you happened to be a Kennedy.)
If you or I had been behind the wheel of that car in Chappaquiddick and had acted in the same manner, we'd still be in jail to this very day!
All he got was a slap on the wrist and forfeiture of his drivers license for a year!
Did old man Joseph P. see his chance for a Presidential son dashed again and thus lost his will to live?
How kinder to history it might have been had Rose Kennedy been sterile!
Is it any wonder that Joan was an alcoholic?
His deeds and antics are history. Why do we need his autobiography anyway?
Could someone please find Robert Byrd's walker and point in him the direction of the nursing home?