And in my opinion, that was the high point of the story, because it has been a steady, weirdly familiar ride straight down the hill of decorum ever since.
The low point, thus far, was Obama’s speech. Although I believe Barack Obama is an infinitely better speaker on his worst days than his predecessor was on his very best, last Wednesday I had a reaction I thought I’d forgotten how to have: As our president spoke, I turned away from the television screen and cringed. Mom and Dad? Dot? The batting back and forth of the word “hero” between the president and the congresswoman’s intern as if they were in the final round of a worldwide ping pong championship? We know these people, he said. They are our friends, our neighbors, our family.
The real rabbit-in-the-hat moment came when Obama announced that the congresswoman had opened her eyes that afternoon for the first time since being shot. Mrs. Obama, fighting back tears, grasped the hand of the man seated beside her, who is the congresswoman’s husband and who is, as chance would have it, an astronaut. As is always the case at pep rallies, even when they’re called memorials, the crowd responded to the magic of the moment with a roar of applause.
But it got worse, as it usually does. The maudlin memorializing of the girl who, as another chance would have it, just happened to have been born on Sept. 11, 2001, was at once utterly tasteless and incredibly skillful. She was so curious, so hopeful, so optimistic. She believed in the promise of America, and all of us who remain, all of us who are mourning her death in spite of the fact that we had never heard of her until a week ago, we need to honor her by making sure we’re living up not only to her expectations but the expectations of all children.
Thank you, but no. Although I appear to be in the minority on this, I don’t think this is the time for nursery rhymes and schmaltzy bedtime stories to drive the national dialogue.
What I think it’s time for is answers, or, if that’s not possible, at least a few thoughtful, relevant questions. And, as long as I’m making unreasonable requests, I strongly prefer that those questions be asked, and perhaps answered, by adults.
For starters, why is it so easy to buy a gun in Arizona? The state legislature there was planning to vote on whether or not to legalize carrying concealed weapons on college campuses. Did that happen or was that bit of business postponed? Or was it tossed out before being voted up or down? Who proposed that legislation in the first place? I realize there's mourning underway, but why isn't this detail issue discussed on the news?
Closely related, how can one society be so madly in love with violence on one hand, while, on the other, so prone to the overtly sentimental hallucination of being injured and wounded and then, moments later and as if by pure magic, healed? We love to hurt other people because it makes us feel tough and powerful. At the same time, we crave spiritual guidance from the television and Facebook. If you’re paying attention, if you’re at a football game, in a conference room with marketing people, at a rally of any kind, it will not be long before you hear the language of violence. But, then we shift, and talk about healing, and we’re so moved by it that we shed a tear or two and really “pull together.” In Arizona, if you aspire to wash hair in a beauty salon, you have take a test and obtain a license. Not so when it comes to firearms. But then, when someone gets killed, we seem to lapse into a state of complete befuddlement: How could this happen? This rapid back-and-forth confuses me, it makes me dizzy, and it makes my neck sore.
But enough of that: here’s my real question. Was last week’s national group hug the beginning of the 2012 presidential election season? Though billed as a memorial service, did it not seem more like a rally? I know we’re in the midst of healing and all, but I couldn’t help wonder about how all the little details of the story add up to what strikes me as a glass-smooth landing in Jackpot City for our president and his party.
The congresswoman may have voted for healthcare reform, but she’s married to an astronaut, which rank right up there with soldiers and NBA stars when it comes to attaining hero status. The theatrically modest intern who helped the congresswoman until the paramedics arrived is Latino, which is perfect. And the dead little girl who was born on another really big day in this country’s history … man, I don’t have an adjective for the opportunities that one might yield. Obama’s voice got a little bit quivery when he was recalling her, so we now know, in case there were any doubts, that this is quite painful for him, not just as a president but as a father of two daughters. He’s no ideologue … he’s human!
The best part of it, though, is that it happened in Arizona. That’s McCain territory, the home of the political godfather of the GOP’s current mouthpiece, a state that has voted Republican in every presidential election since 1952 except for one (and it was not for Obama), a state that does not believe that Martin Luther King warrants a holiday and, at the same time, believes that skin color does warrant pulling someone over and asking to see the papers. It’s a state that, in spite of the fact that it has no water and one of the country’s more dismal economies, remains one of the fastest-growing in the nation, so much so in fact that its influence in the upcoming presidential election increased recently when its number of votes in the Electoral College got bumped up to 11.
