Here are a few slightly related comments about the past few days, a sort of stream of consciousness ranting about family, politics, and my own messed up life. First, without joining the orgy of exploitation on MSNBC, I will say that Tim Russert was the best journalist on television, a man who loved politics, his coworkers, and his family. Would that we had more people like Tim Russert and far, far fewer people in the media like Bill O’Reilly or Keith Olbermann!
I was struck by the obvious closeness of the Russert family. I am envious of his close-knit family. I am not close to any of the few remaining members of my family. I wish I could be, but there is too much in the past and too many incompatibilities. I worshiped my father, but there has been no one else in my family who engenders that kind of devotion or affection.
My father was the finest man I ever knew and he was given a dreadfully raw deal by life. Abused by his father and a survivor of polio, he was the most determined man I have ever known. He faced failures and overcame them. He never gave up, even though he was kicked in the teeth by an emotionally unstable wife, four children who didn’t learn to appreciate him before it was too late, and parents who could have been more supportive before his death than they were after. My father was a great man.
Unfortunately, I took after my mother. As a young child, I was never around other children until I entered Kindergarten. My siblings didn’t come along until later, so my mother was the primary influence for my first four years. Unfortunately, I learned from her to carry a chip on my shoulder, to blame others for my mistakes, to have a sense of entitlement, and not to accept criticism. It should not be surprising that, even with the patience and dedication of my father, I blew every opportunity, and I had many, that was handed to me. Only now, as I have crossed the threshold of fifty, am I putting together a life.
It is amazing what we learn from our parents. Would that my father had been the primary influence in my life. Would that my family was more like the Russerts of Buffalo.
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