On the 4th of July besides the (inevitable) barbecues, family time and the (non-political-campaign-related) fireworks, it’s a day to ponder America’s beginnings and the people who made America what it is — like America’s founding CEO.

America’s Founding CEO
by Bill Steigerwald

They don’t make American presidents like George Washington anymore, and they never will. As Richard Brookhiser points out in his book “George Washington on Leadership,” he did it all and he did it well:

“He ran two start-ups, the army and the presidency, and chaired the most important committee meeting in history, the Constitutional Convention. His agribusiness and real estate portfolio made him America’s richest man. … Men followed him into battle; women longed to dance with him; famous men, almost as great as he was, some of them smarter, did what he told them to do. He was the Founding CEO.”

Brookhiser, a Time magazine columnist and senior editor at National Review who has specialized on the American Revolution, has also written a highly praised biography of Washington, “Founding Father,” as well as “Alexander Hamilton, American,” and “America’s First Dynasty: The Adamses, 1735-1918.” I talked to him Tuesday by telephone from his home in New York City:

Q: Is there evidence you’ve found that George Washington was either an alien or an angel sent down to Earth to make sure we won the Revolution?

A: (laughs) No. No such evidence.

Q: Can you quickly remind us what great things Washington did — before he even became president?

A: Well, the greatest thing was he was the first commander in chief of the brand new Continental Army. America had never had an army before. There had been 150 years of fighting in British North America, but that was always done by the militias of individual colonies or by the British army against various enemies — French, Indians, combinations of both. In the spring of 1775, fighting has broken out around Boston. The battles of Lexington and Concord are fought.

Congress picks one of its own, George Washington, to be commander in chief. He is sent up to Boston to take charge of the militias that are already there and of troops from other states that are to come. His job is to create an army out of these materials. And he does this and about a million other things over the next eight and half years until the war ends in 1783.

It’s the longest war we’d fight until Vietnam. It’s longer than the Civil War and our share in World War II put together. It’s longer than Iraq. There are many, many defeats and screw-ups in the course of this war, but Washington sticks with it and ends up victorious.

Q: Was there ever a time when Congress thought about replacing him?
Read the rest of this entry »

Jeff Parker, Florida Today

From the people of WORLDMEETS.US to all the readers of and contributors to The Moderate Voice, HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY.

Today we’ll be covering the global reaction to the Fourth of July, starting with an editorial of thanks to America from Australia’s Gold Coast:

“THIS being the birthday of the United States of America, it is worth remembering that the Land Of The Free still is Australia’s greatest ally in an increasingly uncertain and turbulent world. … This nation should never forget that US lads died in their thousands in the Pacific War to help defend this nation from Japanese aggressors. Nor should we forget that the US dispatched one of their top warriors, General Douglas MacArthur, to Brisbane to help us when Britain was concentrating on its own defense.”

From the Canada Free Press, take the U.S. Independence Day quiz and see how you stack up in terms of Revolutionary American history. For example, “What colony did George Washington represent when he signed the Declaration?”

And from the BBC, an article about how American Independence was not inevitable, despite claims by John Adams to the contrary.

Read all of these and much more about how the world perceives our nation on WORLDMEETS.US

In his much-awaited, Monday morning, pre-July Fourth New York Times column, Bill Kristol writes a stirring and fitting tribute to the signers of the Declaration of Independence. In “The Choice They Made,” he quotes a Thomas Jefferson letter in which Jefferson writes, referring to his fellow signers, “That host of worthies, who joined with us on that day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for our country, between submission or the sword.”

Kristol continues to extol the signers and other Revolutionary leaders, in my opinion–and I am sure unintentionally–a little bit at the expense of “their fellow citizens” who “ratified the choice. But they might have been slow to act if the worthies had not moved first.”

He continues, “The fate of equality, Jefferson makes clear, also depends on those who see further than, and act first on behalf of, their fellow citizens.” And Kristol adds, “The people are conservative. Liberty sometimes requires the bold leadership of a few individuals.”

But then, surprisingly, Kristol also expresses some doubt about the sense of honor of those in leadership positions, those who would represent us, those who would govern us: “And the pledge has to be supported by a sense of honor — even of sacred honor. The declaration’s assertion of equal rights, one may say, is supported by what is necessarily unequal, the sense of honor of those acting on the people’s behalf.”

Kristol’s doubts about those “fellow citizens” during that tumultuous period called the “American Revolution” are supported by others.

For example, in a 2002 July Fourth column in the New York Times, “The Argonauts of 1776,” David McCullough writes, “As daunting as almost anything was the lack of popular support for independence. Though war had broken out near Boston the year before, in the spring of 1775, the Americans who fought at Lexington, Concord and Bunker Hill had been defending their rights as Englishmen, not fighting for independence.”

True, had it not been for the “George Washington’s” and the “Thomas Jefferson’s,” and the “Benjamin Franklin’s” and other “worthies” our Independence may have had to wait for a few more years, but eventually those “fellow citizens” would have answered the call equally well.

And true, too, during the early years of the American Revolution, and even after the Declaration of Independence, there were the “Loyalists,” Tories,” or King’s men” who remained loyal to the British Crown, and even fought against our “Patriots.” After the war, some Loyalists relocated to Canada and elsewhere. But the vast majority remained in America and, eventually, all joined in that Great American Experiment.

This July Fourth, we should not forget the hundreds of thousands of “fellow citizens” who sacrificed so much , and especially those “fellow citizens” who fought and died to implement the ideals of “that score of worthies.”

While the exact total loss of life during the War of Independence will probably never be known, an estimated 25,000 American revolutionaries died while in active military service. Without them, it would not have been possible to “burst the chains, under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded [their “fellow citizens”] to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings & security of self-government.”

Brian Fairrington, Cagle Cartoons

As we gather together to celebrate Fathers Day across the land, it seems an appropriate time to offer readers another glimpse into the personality and background of John McCain - particularly his relationship and remembrances of his father and grandfather as demonstrated in his 1999 book, Faith of my Fathers. This portion comes from Chapter One of the book, “In War and Victory” and I believe it speaks to the family history and relationships which inform the man’s values and character.

For a hint as to the shadow cast by the previous generations of McCains, click on the picture above for a full size photo. This iconic image shows, in the foreground, Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz signing the Instrument of Surrender (of Japan) on board the USS Missouri (BB-63), on the second day of September 1945. Behind Nimitz are General of the Army Douglas MacArthur,
Admiral William F. Halsey and Rear Admiral Forrest Sherman. Take a look at the front row of military dignitaries in the background. Third from the left (with his head slightly bowed) is none other than Rear Admiral John S. McCain. At the moment this photo was taken, Senator McCain’s father, a Naval Submarine Commander, was only a few hundred yards away on the deck of the Sub Tender USS Proteus. McCain writes of a meeting which took place that day between father and grandfather, and how they were destined never to see each other again.

Immediately after father and son parted company that day, my grandfather left for his home in Coronado, California. Before he left, he issued his last dispatch to the men under his command.

I am glad and proud to have fought through my last year of acive service with the renowned fast carriers. War and victory have forged a lasting bond among us. If you are as fortunate in peace as you have been victorious in war, I am now talking to 110,000 prospective millionaires. Goodbye, good luck, and may God be with you.

He then describes his grandfather’s arrival home four days later and a welcome home party arranged by his grandmother. It was attended by friends, family, neighbors and the families of many other military officers still awaiting the return of their loved ones.

Some of the guests remembered having observed that my grandfather seemed something less than his normally ebullient self; a little tired from his journey, they had thought, and worn out from the rigors of war.

In the middle of the celebration my grandfather turned to my grandmother, announced that he felt ill, and then collapsed. A physician attending the party knelt down to feel for the admiral’s pulse. Finding none, he looked up at my grandmother and said, “Kate, he’s dead.”

He was sixty-one years old. He had fought his war and died. His Navy physician attributed his fatal heart attack to “complete fatigue resulting from the strain of the last months of combat.”

The admiral’s funeral at Arlington was attended by many of the same dignitaries present at the conclusion of World War Two. Much of Senator McCain’s memoirs focus on his father and grandfather, who he clearly respected greatly and sought to emulate. (With varying degrees of success, by his own admission.) In upcoming installments we will look at the early days in Barack Obama’s life and some of his stories from his book, The Audacity of Hope.

Cartoon by Cam Cardow, The Ottawa Citizen

One night in 1968, my father was in a Manhattan ballroom for the first time in his life, watching Franklin Delano Roosevelt Jr. hand me an award. The expression on his face was the essence of “nachas,” the word immigrants used for the joy and pride their children give them to redeem a lifetime of suffering.

I had been six or so at a Fourth of July parade when the colors came by and my father’s hat went flying from his head, knocked off by the beefy hand of a red-faced man behind us pointing at the flag. Shame and rage rose in me, but my father only smiled sweetly, nodded and bent to pick up the hat.

Years later, I read that, as a child, Sigmund Freud was told by his father that a man had grabbed his new fur cap and flung it into the mud, shouting, “Jew, get off the street.” Freud recalled angrily asking, “What did you do?” His father answered calmly, “I stepped into the gutter and picked up my cap.” In dreams, Freud would later note, a hat may stand for male genitals.

My father never talked about the past. I knew him only as a man who went to work early, came home late, ate his dinner, kissed me goodnight and went to bed. We did not play ball or go to games or listen to them on the radio. He told no stories and passed on no fatherly wisdom. He expected nothing, envied no one. He just slaved sixty hours a week to put food in my mouth, and he loved me without words. What I learned about his life came later and not from him.

Read the rest of this entry

(I’d prepared this article earlier to run during the day today, but in no way wanted to put a clang in the middle of the news and memoriums about the passing of Tim Russert. I hope it is alright to post it now overnight as the shocks of the day begin to recede a little. This piece was meant to commemorate bright moments that most often occur in the most mundane ways between fathers and sons.)

When I was a little girl, my dad used a rough brush and a heavy porcelain mug to lather up, and then a straight razor to shave. Don’t touch, don’t touch, he’d say when he laid the razor down on the little sink. In fascination I watched him shave. Just like I learned to cook from my mother, by watching…if I’d been a son, I’d have learned to shave just by watching my father; how to make the facial grimaces, how to tilt your head, how to sweep the razor up on this part, and across on that part.

Every night, every day, my dad’s face grew a beard, over and over. That was amazing to me. Something taken away, kept coming back. His strength. As a man. It isn’t too much to say.

Your dad too, no doubt, would he nick himself and just go on shaving while the blood ran down his throat? Wasn’t that amazing to you when you were little? And the tiny yelps when he put the styptic on? And the tiny bits of tp? And how cool Read the rest of this entry »

There’s nothing equal.

Not supposed to happen this way. The children bury their parents, dont they?

No parent ought to have to bury their child.

That’s what we humans think of as the natural order. But sometimes, it’s just not meant to be.

This is a picture of Big Russ, Tim’s dad whom he wrote a book about, Big Russ and Me. On the left is Tim’s son Luke, who just graduated from Boston College.

Often people say they don’t know what to say to those in mourning when a sudden tragedy has taken place. I’d offer that words are not the most important at first, no matter how eloquent, no matter how brave, how polite. But something else is.

I can only humbly offer that being there inside the hell of losing a precious son in our own family, that for Big Russ, for any father this Father’s Day who has had to bury a beloved son… many people will say many things to you, write many things to you, but … and… the kindness of people is what will truly stay with you,.

Others’ words may register later or never, much will be a blur now… but kindnesses from others to you will remain seared into your cells forever… kindness being one of the only things that can reach down into the dark where you yourself walk as though dead too for now. Hold onto that, along with all else that has any light at all to it.

___________
CODA
tx HR for link
This is the link to Compassionate Friends, a national non-profit that many have found helpful. They offer friendship, understanding, and hope to bereaved parents, grandparents and siblings.

Fathers, as well as brothers, grandfathers, uncles, best friends, neighbor guy down the road, strangers out of nowhere… all can count as good, sometimes nearly beatific fathers sometimes.

Perhaps because no man, no woman, can fit the perfection of the archetypal father or mother, perhaps because there are sometimes too many errors and omissions in parenting without maliciously meaning to, perhaps because some one didn’t see, couldn’t see, because some one ignored or betrayed or dismissed or turned their backs at a time so critical…

Perhaps that is why when the fathers and the brothers, when the uncles and the anyman come for us when we’re lost, no matter what else, no matter what happened in the decades before or the days afterward … they wear for the rest of their lives the crown of heroic being, heroic man.

For myself, I had a father, who as they say, “drank to much,” and you can read all you know about bad times and struggle, shame and redemption written between the life-lines there.

And yet, there was this…. there is still this… there will always be this….

BAPTISM:
THE GOOD FATHERS

Our bodies painted red by the dawn sky,
our hair stuck up in cockscombs from sleeping,
we two little children snuck down to the rowboats.
We wobbled across the lake toward the lily ponds
to gather blooms for our mothers.
What a big boy! What a big girl!
they all would exclaim upon our return.

We tugged up the white blush flowers with roots so long,
till the bottom of our boat was filled to the bow.
As we turned toward home the rains began.
Then fog threw back its hood and roared; and we rowed.
The waves turned black; and we rowed.
We lost first one oar and then the other; and we cried out.
Our thin night clothes stamped with cowboys and stars
went transparent like tattoos all over our pale blue bodies,
and we cried out, Mother! Father! God! Help us!

Death slid its hands down over our eyes…
But the wall of fog was suddenly pierced
by a battered wooden rowboat leaping and bucking,
the tiny boat filled with four phantoms,
rowing and rowing like madmen,
their faces distorted by rain and rage, eight oars
slugging the roiling waters over and over;
and they were calling out our names, bellowing
over the storm, Hold on! Hold on! We are coming for you!

Read the rest of this entry »

On Memorial Day, Barack Obama told a group of veterans, “My grandfather marched in Patton’s army, but I cannot know what it is to walk into battle like so many of you.”

He went on to talk about an uncle, “part of the American brigade that helped to liberate Auschwitz” and, returning from the war, spent six months in an attic: “Now obviously, something had really affected him deeply, but at that time there just weren’t the kinds of facilities to help somebody work through that kind of pain.”

Since then, the GOP gaffe police have been gleefully pointing out it was the Russians who freed Auschwitz and that Obama’s mother was an only child, causing his campaign to scramble and admit that he should have said “great uncle” and “Buchenwald.”

Sloppy as he may been with the words, Obama had the music right, as a Patton army contemporary of his ancestors can attest.

In the spring of 1945, we were sweeping through Germany and Austria. Along the way, we saw stragglers in ragged stripes, dazed gaunt figures wandering the roads and being picked up by Army trucks. We didn’t know the names of the places they had come from, but we knew who they were, and the sight of them was an indelible reminder of why we had been fighting.

Most of us didn’t spend any time in attics after coming home, but our lives were changed forever by having seen what human savagery can do.

Obama was trying to evoke and honor that pain. What he said might not win any prizes on a quiz show, but it was true to the spirit of Memorial Day and human decency.

Cross-posted from my blog.

It is Memorial Day (Observed) today in the U.S.

If you don’t already know, “Observed” is a euphemism for pulling up our national holidays by their roots and plopping them down into three-day weekends that have nothing to do with why they are supposed to be celebrated.

This one originally was called Decoration Day. It was a day of remembrance for Union soldiers who died in the Civil War. After World War I, it was expanded to include soldiers who died in any war. Nowadays it is called No Money Down and No Payments Until 2009 Day, at least down at the mall.

As always, I’ve hung an American flag outside of the house this Memorial Day (Observed).

As always, I will keep the day simple.

As always, I will remember that freedom of speech is not protected by journalists like myself but by the men and women who have given their lives to defend the values that have made America great but now seem to be honored in the breach — if at all.

As always, I will feel sadness for loved ones and friends who will not be with us this Memorial Day (Observed) because of their sacrifices, and mourn the fact that the list of the departed has grown longer in the intervening year.

An Australian friend of a friend who lives in Hong Kong flew into New York City the other day. She exalted at its beauty and how clear the air war. It was Fleet Week and Lower Manhattan was awash in sailors and marines. But she was not fooled and after a day or so remarked, “Things are really bad here in the States, aren’t they?”

Yes they are, Barbara.

This should be a golden age for America but it is anything but. I cannot recall a time in my life when so few have so much and so many are struggling. When our heart and soul — the middle class — is so beleaguered.

When we are incapable of a national consensus on anything beyond the shared belief that our leaders have so utterly failed us.

When we have a president so dangerously feckless that he can say with a straight face that he gave up golf in 2003 because it sent the wrong signal during the early months of the war in Iraq but has resumed playing because he has proven his solidarity with the troops.

Ah yes, American values.

This Memorial Day, as they have for the past five years, residents of Skowhegan, Maine will be thinking about Jay Aubin, one of the first among 4081-and-counting American troops to die in Iraq.

What the numbers conceal is the continuing grief of countless families, friends and neighbors in every corner of the country who live with the loss of young men and women like Aubin, who was 36 when he died on March 20, 2003, leaving behind a wife, two young children and memories of a good life.

On a wall at Margaret Chase Smith School in Skowhegan are pictures of him from the time he was a middle-schooler who wanted to be a pilot to photos of a Marine officer with his flight helmet next to a helicopter with markings on the side: Capt. “Sweet Pea” Aubin, so named for his upbeat attitude.

A teacher there has used him as a model to show students they can achieve whatever they want and still be kind to people. “If you can be ‘Sweet Pea’ and be a macho Marine pilot, you can be ‘Sweet Pea’ on the playground, ‘Sweet Pea’ in the cafeteria,” he explains. “There’s no reason not to be nice no matter who you are or who you want to be.”

Apparently he never changed. As a Marine, Aubin, who didn’t drink, would check a bus out of the motor pool and park in front of the dance hall after a ball to provide rides for those who drank too much.

“If the helicopter goes down and anyone is killed, I want to go, too,” he once told his mother.

Aubin died in a crash during a dust storm near the Kuwait border in the first days of the war.

Today, as politicians make speeches and veterans march and flags fly, the people who knew him will be thinking of a man called “Sweet Pea,” as countless others will be remembering young men and women like him. No words or symbols will take away the pain of losing them.

Cross-posted from my blog.

On this Memorial Day, let us honor and remember the fallen, not use it to question the patriotism of those who oppose the Iraq war.

Memorial Day will once again be observed in our nation this coming Monday, May 26. It will be a day to remember, and to honor, all the men and women who have died in military service to our country in all wars, including the Iraq war–a war that has lasted longer than any other American war except the Vietnam War.

Many people will observe this day of remembrance by visiting cemeteries and war memorials, by flying the American flag at half-staff, or by attending special community events and religious services.

As has always been an American tradition on this day, a lot will be said and written in honor of those who have fallen in previous wars. And, as it has become customary during the past six years, a lot will also be said and written about our newest heroes, those who have given their lives in the Iraq-Afghanistan war theaters, and those who continue to bravely serve there.

Finally, a lot will be said and written about “supporting the troops” and, sadly, some will use this solemn occasion to try to equate not supporting the war in Iraq with not supporting the troops.

Let me just say it up front: I support the troops, but I do not support the war in Iraq.

Although millions of honorable Americans have been making similar statements regularly, it is still risky to do so knowing that a good number of people will at best reject outright what they see as a contradiction in terms and, at worse, accuse those who make such a contention of being disingenuous, unpatriotic, etc.

How do I know this? As a young Air Force officer during the Vietnam War, I was a gung-ho supporter of and believer in that war. Although a volunteer for duty in Vietnam, I did not serve there. But, I did have close friends who did and who were being shot at and were earning Purple Hearts there.

It was perhaps because of those losses that I accused those who opposed the war of being unpatriotic, treacherous and even of aiding and abetting the enemy. (Sounds familiar?)

I also remember calling those who had the audacity to say that they supported the troops but not the war, insincere and hypocritical. I sadly remember having fierce arguments with my own parents and sisters and accusing them of not supporting our military. How in heaven’s name could they claim that they supported the troops when they opposed the mission, the war, and our very own government that only wanted to stop communism, spread democracy, and keep the homeland safe.

And so it goes today. Another time, another war, but the same questions about the judgments and policies that produced this war; the same disenchantment with the strategies and the conduct of the war; the same brave troops fighting our battles; and, yes, the same debate–at times accusations–about not supporting the troops and about loyalty and patriotism.

But, there is one difference.

During the Vietnam War, and for some time thereafter, some Americans in fact did not support the troops. I clearly remember the contempt and scorn with which some treated our Vietnam War active duty troops and veterans. I also remember the truly unpatriotic words and actions on the part of some of the hard-core “anti-war protesters.” Nevertheless, a majority of Americans agonized over every battle, bemoaned every injury and mourned every death suffered by our brave troops.

So, while on this Memorial Day we may debate whether questioning the rationale for the Iraq war or opposing the war itself, and whether disagreeing with the war-related policies of our government, is problematic, there is no debating that today Americans unanimously and strongly support our brave men and women in uniform. Americans today stand united in respecting and praising the courage and dedication of our troops performing so admirably under some of the most difficult combat conditions.

Americans have consistently demanded that the troops be given every possible personnel and vehicle protection in the battlefield. More recently, and in the face of some harrowing revelations of neglect and indifference–even denials and cover-ups–toward the plight of our troops and veterans, Americans in unison are demanding that our returning wounded receive the best possible medical care; that they and their families are properly taken care of, medically, financially and emotionally; and that those who have fallen receive the respect they deserve. Finally, every American is wishing our heroes success in battle and a safe and speedy return home.

I expect and understand rebuttals of my words. There are many ways in which opposition to this war can be construed to mean lack of support for the troops. I was at one time masterful at that.

Many thoughtful and patriotic Americans will again be celebrating this Memorial Day by holding picnics, and barbecues; by attending sporting events; by taking that long-awaited, short family vacation to Disneyland or Disney World; by celebrating the end of school or the unofficial beginning of summer. Does that make them less mindful of the real meaning of Memorial Day? Does that make them less respectful of those who have sacrificed their lives for us? Certainly not.

I just ask that “supporters” of the war equally consider the possibility that those Americans who disagreed with our government on the justification for this war and who continue to disapprove of the cavalier manner in which our troops have been placed in harm’s way by our leaders, do indeed respect, admire and deeply care for those who are doing the actual fighting in Iraq and elsewhere–and making all the sacrifices.

Cartoon by Jeff Parker, Florida Today

Cartoon by RJ Matson, The St. Louis Post Dispatch

Heightened international competition for the planet’s scarce resources has begun, and it’s emerging nations that stand to lose the most, warns O Globo of Brazil’s chief international columnist, William Waack.

Waack writes that there are two interpretations about the consequences of global inflation due to higher oil prices:

“The first is contained in a report from the respected International Energy Agency , which assumes that geological and geopolitical reasons will inevitably lead to an oil supply crisis. … The other interpretation follows the same scenerio (price inflation, competition for scarce resources) but arrives at a far different conclusion. The rising cost of a barrel of oil will lead to a slowdown in the global economy, which will prevent the emergence of a crisis in supply.”

But whichever of these two turns out to be true, Waack warns his readers that access to energy will be far more important than free trade deals or access to foreign capital and he concludes:

“The emerging nations will have to compete, perhaps for the first time, for the same resources available to the already rich and developed.”

By William Waack

Translated By Brandi Miller

May 23, 2008

Brazil - O Globo - Original Article (Portuguese)

The immediate consequence of the explosion in oil prices is clear and irreversible in the short term. It’s the global inflation that has manifested itself in higher prices for food, airfares, freight costs, consumables and finished products in many sectors.

But for the medium term, there are two conflicting interpretations. The first is contained in a report from the respected International Energy Agency , which assumes that geological and geopolitical reasons will inevitably lead to an oil supply crisis. This interpretation was the immediate cause of nervousness on oil markets this Thursday (May 22).

The other interpretation for the medium-term follows the same scenerio (price inflation, competition for scarce resources) but arrives at a far different conclusion. The rising cost of a barrel of oil will lead to a slowdown in the global economy, which will prevent the emergence of a crisis in supply.

It’s difficult to resolve this “battle” of interpretations at the moment. Other similar episodes of rising oil prices show that higher prices spur new technologies and the better use of fuel. In the decade of the seventies, the “shocks” in price and supply (caused by geopolitical, not geological reasons) were absorbed by a fantastic technological revolution - the information age.

READ ON AT WORLDMEETS.US, along with continuing translated foreign press coverage of the United States and the global energy and food crisis.

For those whose good mothers have died

…for those who were lucky enough to have had what I call, “a beautiful, imperfectly-perfect mother,” but one who too early passed from this world, especially hard when she has been the ground note for her sons and daughters.

Some of us did not have a mother we can remember without fear, but even that doesn’t keep us from recognizing that special bond between many mothers and their children wherever we see it– and blessing that such bounty came to pass for them.

This is just meant to place a hand on the shoulders of those who might miss their mothers, just to take a moment to say, even though your mom is gone or leave-taking in some way, there was and is presence of her still. As long as you are here, she is here.

In some good way, she is here.

Read the rest of this entry »

Today John McCain is unveiling a sassy TV commercial with his 96-year-old mother to remind voters about his good genes and American values. Iffy as it may be to call attention to his age, the ad underscores the diversity of motherhood in this campaign.

Roberta McCain, who gave birth to her son at a Naval Air Station in Panama, where her husband, the son of an Admiral and a future Admiral himself, was based, radiates the aura of a strict, no-nonsense parent out of a bygone era. John McCain always knew exactly who he was.

Barack Obama’s mother was a dreamer with, in his words, a “combination of being very grounded in who she was, what she believed in…but also a certain recklessness…always searching for something. She wasn’t comfortable seeing her life confined to a certain box.” Her travels and exotic marriages produced a unique bi-racial man who has spent his life finding and creating himself.

Somewhere between these extremes of certainty and self-invention is Hillary Clinton’s biographical journey from a well-to-do suburban childhood that took her to college as a Goldwater girl, transformed her into a Eugene McCarthy protester against the Vietnam war and eventually the first woman within striking distance of the presidency.

In this post-Victorian, post-Freudian era, motherhood comes in all shapes and sizes, producing remarkable diversity in the generation that will define the 21st century.

Happy Mother’s Day to one and all.

Cross-posted from my blog.