Brothers of Re-Invention

My maternal grandmother, Miss Bessie, had a very inventive memory. She imagined “balls of tornadic fire” approaching her home during a violent storm. (She was a “weather worrier” – always watching cloud formations during summer storms and phoning to tell us to take cover. She seemed about as accurate as the TV guy on Channel 6, maybe a little more so.)

In her later years, she invented a “boyfriend” from California. He was dashing and was totally smitten with her. He had wealth, great charm, and drove a Cadillac. She was resolute in the fact that he was going to whisk her away in his convertible and drive into the sunset toward a better life.

She would often remark that “Harold” had phoned and they talked for hours. He was arriving any day now and she just wasn’t prepared.

Of course, Harold was “made up.” It probably happened to impress the ladies in her Sunday School Class at the Methodist Church. Maybe Mabel Calloway had “one-upped her” with a cake recipe and she had to get things evened out. However, it was of no consequence. Harold never appeared and eventually dropped from conversation.

Upon her death, she had arranged for Lucille Brown, the leader of her Bible study group, to deliver what was a very eloquent and glowing eulogy. At the graveside services as we made our way to greet those who had come to pay their respects, I happened to pass my mother. “I hardly recognized the woman described in Lucille’s remarks,” she whispered.

Miss Bessie had “one-upped” Mabel yet again.

This years political stumping has lots of inventive and often imaginary information being proffered as “why you should vote for me.”

There are two interesting examples by men seeking Senate seats. I think of them as “Brothers of Re-invention.”

One is patrician.

Something I have always wanted to be. I don’t know why, maybe for the same reason that I like the title “Metropolitan” (as in the Greek Orthodox way). But, I am neither tall enough, thin enough, nor wealthy enough to be “patrician.” I don’t think the “patrician types” perspire.

The other is baby-faced and Republican. He has a look of innocence.

Neither of which I could ever be. Despite the fact that I always say that my eyes are not just blue, “they are virgin blue,” I could never convince anyone of such innocence, most especially my purple-haired mother. Her response was, “for that to be the true, you must have kept a sack over your head most of your life.”

The reason I could never be a Republican is an issue of morality.

The Patrician is Blumenthal of Connecticut who has admitted to some “misplaced words” in his re-invented resume; all in an attempt to convince the veterans of war that he was one of them.

The other is Mark Kirk of Illinois. Same reason.

It seems you cannot be a serious candidate for a spot in Washington without having been shot at. Remember Hillary’s famous tarmac incident?

So this has got me to thinking about my own resume.

It could do with some serious updating. No, I am not going to run for political office, but I will croak one day and I want the eulogy to be as eloquent as that of Miss Bessie and I do want my children to think their father has accomplished something.

So we add the following:

“Consultant in Cardiology, St. Francis Hospital.” When I go to rehab, they ask me about my heart, my pacemaker, and my general sense of well-being. I respond in kind. We consult. And in the UK, a consultant in healthcare is considered the same as a physician in the US.

“Internationally read author.” Hey, this blog is followed by a guy in Abu Dhabi.

“Family Therapist.” I spend a lot of time on the phone with my kids, and my grandchildren.

“Advisor in Economics.” I caution my sister on how much she is spending at fast food restaurants and how much less it would be to cook at home.

"Media Consultant." I tell everyone about the great Farsi flick I just discovered.

“World traveler.” I landed once in Dubuque, Iowa.

And not to forget:

“Spiritual Advisor to Oprah.” I pray daily that she will discover the joys of anonymous altruism.

You know, I sound pretty good. If I had 70-million, I could probably convince some group somewhere to elect me to high office. And, oh yes, I was required to take two years of ROTC as a college student, so hey, I guess I am a veteran. Andy Culberson shot me with a BB-gun.

I'm on a roll to a political career. Is this not a great country we live in?

With proper "parsing" anything goes. Even Blago is innocent. It is just missplaced words.