The penultimate place in the funeral parlor

The youngest, and last surviving of my mother's brothers, died yesterday. An entire generation is gone, leaving us, the only layer between the young 'uns and our eternal reward. I'm not sure what hits me the hardest. The fact that somebody I liked as a person is gone or the fact that although I have jokingly referred to myself as a "family elder," I now am.

My maternal extended family was large, warm, highly amusing and slightly crazy. They always took the toughest path but arrived at their destination in peals of good natured laughter. They created for us a world of safety and comfort, in which we were blissfully unaware of what material goods we lacked. They gathered for birthdays and anniversaries, forever on diets, but demolishing rich, creamy confections "one silver" at a time. Mostly what I remember about them is that they never argued and that they were always there when you needed support or help. From the vantage point of a child, they were a strong, solid block against whatever ills awaited us in the world. I miss them for their quirky take on the world, their belief that every ending is a good ending, and their sheer love of living.

They were used to living on top of one and other and even when families moved away and lived miles apart, they were into each other's lives on a daily basis. On the night I was born, my father was attended by my mother's eldest sister and older brother. In fact, informed that she could not accompany her baby sister into the delivery room, my aunt took up a position right outside the delivery room doors. "You cannot sit  there," said some long forgotten nurse.

"Of course, I can," my aunt replied. "I am the older sister." And she would not be moved.

Because we spent entire summers with our maternal grandmother at a cottage, we came under the care of various aunts and uncles, learning more about them than other kids knew about their relations. Each loss, to a greater or lesser degree, was like losing my parents again. But this one, the final loss, is greater because it is an end to an entire generation.

My Uncle Joe was the baby of the family, born two months after his eldest sister had her first child. Uncle and niece were raised together, and Tessie was surprised when she realized that Joe was her uncle and not her brother. His life might have been one of thwarted dreams and stunted ambition, but his sense of humor and endless curiosity never failed him, or us.

I will remember him because he dumped five teaspoons of sugar in his coffee (so that he didn't have to stir), for his ability to never really grow old (until worn done by illness), and for his devotion to Frank Sinatra and Abraham Lincoln. I will miss his silly jokes, his bad puns and his other worldly way of doing things. Uncle Joe was an original. And the only comfort is that if there is an afterlife, he was welcomed there by an entire generation of his family drinking his over sweet coffee and laughing at his bad jokes.

When my mistakes were all ahead of me

I was looking at a photo of Bill Clinton today and realized he looks OLD, and then I remembered that we are contemporaries. This year, the start of the baby boom generation celebrates its 62nd birthday, which means they can retire and collect Social Security. How the hell did this happen? I realize that time marches on but when did it start marching in quick step? When did the possibilities become limited?

Now, I realize that we are limited by what we can imagine and if we have an unlimited imagination we have unlimited possibilities. But time and age take their toll. At some point we, the baby boom generation, have to accept that there are limits.

We've been very lucky. We had the best of everything. The whole world changed to suit our needs. And I am proud to have been at the forefront of a time when the sex was safe, the drugs were pure and the rock and roll was better. But maybe being at the head of the parade has warped my sense of what it means to be an "elder statesman." Most of us had grandparents who spoke English with a pronounced foreign accent. Our parents grew to adulthood during the Great Depression. Many of our fathers fought in World War II. We were there when TV was in its infancy. We are online in great numbers because we like shinny objects and new things. We wear jeans instead of sedate polyester pants suits. We eat granola instead of donuts. We yearn to be free and unfettered, even now when many of us are have grandchildren on our knees. We never grew up and I think we never will. But it gets harder to ignore that I am at the penultimate place in the funeral parlor and I don't like it one bit.

I disagree with those who claim that those born between 1946 and 1965 are part of the same generation. I put it at 1956 or 1957. Our defining moments included Howdy Doody, Leave it to Beaver, John F. Kennedy and the Vietnam War. Because we are less tied to tradition, we are more prone to questioning. As a group we believe in individual freedom, and have pushed forward change such as women's rights, civil rights, gay rights and the right to be downright nuts if that's what suits us. We love gadgets like transistor radios and IPods and we have the money to buy them.

Our generation includes Bill Clinton, Osama bin Laden, Steven Jobs, Stephen Spielberg, and The Prince of Wales.

But as we stare down the inevitable, we have to admit that we have not left a better world. Karl Rove, George W. Bush and Dick Chaney are also baby boomers. The earth is a mess, our oceans are polluted and we are no closer to living environmental-friendly lives than we were 30 years ago--when we could have, should have, made a difference. We were born in a time of great prosperity and even greater hope, and what we leave (should we leave today) is something less. And a lot of that anomosity between the left and right is really an argument over what kind of legacy our generation will leave.

On the upside, we have  turned the whole notion of aging on its head. When you speak of "senior citizens," I think you're talking about my parents. They were old,  I am well worn.  And like everyone else of my generation, I like to believe I still have my mistakes ahead of me and I have all the time in the world.

This and that

Matt Roloff was found not guilty today of charges driving under the influence. Oregon cops are not pleased. The whole thing will, I am sure, be part of the new Little People, Big World season. And if I was Roloff, I'd be very, very careful when driving for a very, very long time.

Dominck Dunn's column in the new issue of Vanity Fair is devoted to the never-ending Diana, Princess of Wales, inquest. Talk about a litany of hear-say. Today, the London Times reports that a therapist friend of Diana's said that she listened in as Nicholas Soames told her to stay out of the land mines controversy and suggested that Diana's safety might be "in doubt." The therapist apparently assumed that this meant that Mr. Soames, a senior Conservative MP, grandson of Winston Churchill and friend of the Prince of Wales, was threatening Diana's life, when he could just as easily have been warning her that visiting land mines might be dangerous. Or maybe, it was a veiled threat. Who knows, the issue is not as clear to me as it seems to be to those who support Mohammed al Fayed's theory that Prince Philip had Diana killed. The same therapist claims that Prince Philip wrote two nasty notes to Diana, although no such notes have been read into evidence.

In 2003, Israel's then Prime Minister Ariel Sharon said that occupation of the Gaza strip is a bad thing. In fact, the majority of Israelis support a "land for peace" concept. So, you have to forgive them if they were less than moved or surprised by George Bush's demand that the Israeli's give the West Bank, the Golan Heights, the Gaza and East Jerusalem to the Arabs for a Palestinian homeland. Naturally, Bush's suggestions lacked specifics, he is, after all, the "big picture" guy. 

Pundits have offered a number of reasons why Hilary Clinton won the New Hampshire Democratic primary--none of the reasons had anything to do with her experience as a Senator or her programs. The more cynical types claim she cried on cue to grab attention. Some suggest that the "iron my shirts" comments angered women who then support Clinton. Karl Rove wrote in the Wall Street Journal that Hilary won because she targeted single women and that she pretended to be more likable. No one seems to consider that voters might like the Clinton platform, or at least have more confidence in her than they do in a newly elected senator who has since the day he took office been running for president. Liz Cox Barrett in the Columbia Journalism review believes that Clinton won because voters hate Chris Matthews who announce her defeat in New Hampshire hours before the polls closed--so voters rushed to the polls to vote against Chris Matthews by voting for Hilary Clinton.

Frankly, a crying Hilary made me cringe.

Did you know that New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson was running for president? Well he was, but he isn't any more. 

Spider-Man fans are furious with Marvel Comics for putting an end to Peter Parker's 21-year marriage to Mary Jane Watson. In fact, in the new book, Peter has no memory of Mary Jane at all. Apparently Marvel has regretted the union since 1962, but just figured out how to keep Peter forever young and on the hunt. Sounds like all the men I've dated.

Michael Vick, who does not have a drug problem, has been told that if he participates in a drug program, he could shave enough time off his sentence to be out of the can in time for the 2009 seasons. 

Did you know that Sir Edmund Hillary, who in 1953 was the first man to scale Mt. Everest, was still alive? Well, he was, but now he's dead. Hillary died today at the age of 88.

When 18-year-old Josue Herrios-Coronilla crashed his Camaro into a yard, he took off on foot to elude police. Unfortunately, the lad also stepped into some dog doo-doo, leaving tracks that led police directly to him. Yes, alcohol was involved.

A little too much

Matt Roloff and his family star in a TLC Reality Series, Little People, Big World, which follows a dwarf mom and dad and their four children, one of whom is also a dwarf. It's actually interesting as the family meet daily challenges that we average sized people don't even think about (such as getting into and driving a van). It's actually kind of uplifting, although I'm not so sure that the youngest child, age 10, is as thrilled or as used to the camera intrusion as the others in this 24/7 coverage of their life on an Oregon farm.

Last summer, Matt was arrested for DUI while driving the family van in Oregon. According to reports, Matt failed the sobriety test in what turns out to be his second citation for the same offense. Apparently, he just came off a 16-month sentence of court supervision, after which the first charges were dropped.

Anyway, Matt appeared in court today and, as one might expect, because he is now a famous personage, the whole thing hit the Web along with his booking photo. It's the booking photo about which I am writing because in it Matt appears relaxed and smiles for the camera. Gives me the feeling he knew it would end up on the Internet (what doesn't) and he wanted to look like the respectable farm dad he portrays on TV. No wild hair, no wild eyes, no disheveled appearance. Today, his lawyer said Matt was tired and that's why he was swerving. Also, Matt walks unsteadily with the aid of two crutches, so I don't think he could walk that straight line under any circumstances. But then he did refuse to take the breathalyzer.

The Roloffs don't strike me as fabulously wealthy. In fact, if not for TLC, I doubt they could have afforded that family vacation (duly recorded for our consumption) in the Bahamas or the newly installed swimming pool. They already have two sons in college (and we know what that cost) and a daughter who will be in college in a few years. They raise pumpkins and corn for sale to the public and have created a farm wonderland for summer tourists. I'm wondering now what will happen if Matt is convicted of DUI. I know that the court proceedings will part of the show (everything else is).

Which gets me back to the whole issue of fame and why we (and I include myself in this) watch ordinary people, like the Roloffs live their lives (regardless of the extraordinary circumstances). Having sold his family to TLC, Matt has a lot more to lose than just his driving privileges. And I think he knows that and that's the reason for his pleasant suburban dad mug shot.

On the other hand, I sure wish my life was so interesting that someone would pay me to star in my own reality series. Lord knows, I need the money, and the fan love wouldn't be unwelcomed.