My Mom

My mom died in '99, but she was kind of interesting. She married my dad when he was a widower with two little kids, my half-sibs. Mom was raised in one of these hell-fire Republican homes where FDR and Eleanor were the devils incarnate. Daddy was a yellow-dog Democrat (someone who would vote for 'a yellow dog' before he'd vote for a Republican).

So early on in their marriage, Mom said something disparaging about democrats and Dad said this wouldn't do; she wasn't going to indoctrinate HIS kids, but to be fair, he wouldn't either, so politics was a banned topic among the 'rents when we were little.

My Mom thought Nixon was an INJURED INNOCENT! If he had only tossed those guys to the wolves, all would have been well. The fact that he was behind everything? Nonsense. He just had Bad Staff.

In the absence of parental influence, sad for Mom, we all grew up in to hippie-liberals.

The fun part starts in '92, when Mom was staying with my sister during the GOP national convention in Houston. Remember that? (Those of you who were old enough, anyway.) It was a real HateFest. Marilyn Quayle, Pat Buchanan, everyone getting up there and SPEWING hate and superiority. Apparently Mom and Joyce were glued to the TV for the duration, and the GOP scared Mom so much that she RE-registered to vote in her hometown as a Dem! (And my hometown was a GOP stronghold too.) We were soooo proud.

She adored Bill Clinton. He was Her Boy. Even Monica couldn't faze her. She was a dirty girl who wanted it and who did it hurt anyway? They should ASSIGN someone to take care of Her Bill. She lived long enough to see him acquitted in the House, thank god. And I can pretty much guess what she'd think about GW.

Miss you, Mom.