Sing a 'happy birthday' to Senator Kennedy
From The Left
by Joseph Waldman
27 February 2002

Senator Edward Kennedy, Democrat of Massachusetts, turned seventy years old last week, a milestone in his family and yet another reminder of just how great his role has been in the grand scheme of twentieth-century American political history.

I should emphasize at the outset that this article is not a "fan" piece. I've no use for the empty baby-boomer rhetoric about the "Camelot legacy," about the "pageantry and promise of the Kennedy dynasty." It's a lot of blather that served no purpose other than to undermine Lyndon Johnson and fracture the Democratic Party almost irreparably in the late 1960s, and to sell tabloids and quickie biographies since then.

Nonetheless, separating the wheat from the chaff, I still deeply admire the fraternal Kennedy triumvirate--Jack, Bobby, Ted. And of the three, Ted Kennedy's record is the best through which to incorporate the greatest attributes of historical legendry and contemporary pragmatism: a link to the past, as well as a torch for the future.

There are few great figures in Washington anymore. The age of heroes has long since passed. Of course I'm not saying that we should have a government full of saints. There always has been, and always will be, an unbalanced mixture of competence and sycophancy, public service and personal gain, in government.

Ted Kennedy began his career at a time when there were giants. He was, and is, one of them. I am a historical romantic, and I believe firmly in the "great man" theory of history--in other words, that individual, larger-than-life personages play a more important role as historical determinants than do mass factors, or economic realities, or anything like that. I am not entirely an idol-maker. I recognize Ted's all-too-human foibles and failings, but, "mea culpa," he also recognized them, and he's a better man for it.

Enough pontificating. This is a happy time, and this column should be a happy column. So everyone raise your mugs of Guinness and join in on this special Ted-tribute version of "Happy Birthday." You all know the music. The meter may be a little off in places but it comes from the heart. And, if you dare to make a Marilyn Monroe joke here, you're not worthy to shine Ted's shoes.

Happy birthday, dear Ted
Of the great, silver head--
But, unlike your dear brothers,
Don't get yourself shot dead.

There should never be an end
To our motto, "tax and spend";
For without its implications
This great nation wouldn't mend

From depression that we
Suffered under GOP
Domination of government
'Til nineteen-thirty-three.

Then your father, in the New
Deal helped us from the stew.
And all his nine children
Kept his vision, just and true.

You're the youngest, but by far
The most permanent bright star.
In a land of opportunists
You're above the mean bar.

No one should here dare make
Jokes about booze intake.
That's all gone and in the past--
Just enjoy birthday cake.

Chappaquiddick is now
Decades past--I wonder how
People still can condemn you
For what they in fact allow

Republicans to do:
Sex affairs are nothing new
Even for pious mofos
With archaistic views.

They may say you can't drive,
But I know that's a lie,
Even though redneck teachers
Use their pulpits to try

To fool us with beliefs
About religious griefs
And conservative dogma
Or their marital beefs.

When Dick Nixon took the fall,
You were there, standing tall.
You'd no patience for crimes
To obstruct or stonewall.

Through the years you've battled hard
Against efforts to retard
Authentic progressive politics--
Not those led by demagogues.

You should have been POTUS;
Unlike Dub, you're one of us.
"Shanty Irish"--did they call you?--
In our nation trumps WASP.

Now that Dub says he's your
Friend, one might think "amor."
But don't deceive your senses:
"Love" in DC means "war."

Had you taken the nod
Back in '80, you'd have wowed
The whole crowd in Ann Arbor.
The debate would have not

Gone to Governor Reagan
Who'd decided to run
Against President Carter--
Had it been you, you'd have won.

Then the Eighties would have been
Filled with joy, not with sin.
You'd have never gone to Bitburg
And saluted Nazi kin.

In ten years, you'll have served
A half century. It occurred.
To me that no other
Senator among the herd

Of right now or from the past
Long as you could ever last.
Even mean ol' Strom Thurmond
(Who's in a body cast)

Will top out at forty-eight
Years. Purveyors of hate
Like him could never hope to
In the "greatest" list rate.

You're our Winston Churchill
With more hair, and stronger will.
And, just like him, with age
You're not "over the hill."

May you live one hundred years,
May you drink one hundred beers.
Get plastered, you...great man--
History will smile on you!