"Dead Man Coming---Don't hold your breath waiting for Joe Lieberman to go away." Appetizer:
Late at night in Hartford's Goodwin Hotel last Tuesday -- I'm not even sure what time it was -- Joe Lieberman made his way to the podium for his much-anticipated "concession" speech.
I'd been joking with another reporter that en route to his capitulation Joe would leave fingernail tracks in the carpet leading all the way back to his private room upstairs, but surprisingly he did not have to be dragged onstage at all, and his little elfin nails looked unbloodied and intact as he spoke. I was looking over a crowd of reporters and Joe staffers, off to the right and to the rear of the hall, as he announced his determination to press on:
"If the people of Connecticut are good enough to send me back to Washington . . . " he began, "I promise them I will keep fighting for the same progressive new ideas and for stronger national security . . . "
At the words progressive new ideas I couldn't help myself and let out a little laugh, recalling Lieberman's determination to yank funding from public schools that counseled suicidal teens that it was OK to be gay. Was that the kind of progressive idea he was talking about? I really did try to muffle it, but it was too late -- a middle-aged woman with big dangly earrings in a Lieberman T-shirt whipped around and glared at me.
"Yes?" I said.
"Have some respect!" she snapped.
"What?" I shouted.
"You should be ashamed of yourself!" she hissed.
I shrugged. A few minutes later, Lieberman ended his speech with an impassioned promise to fight on: "I believe tonight, more than ever, in America's greatness in its values . . . Will you join me? "
Roars, cheers from the crowd; the sneering lady in front of me jumped up and down; and then, weirdly, Joe descended from the stage to the strains of the Tattoo You-era Rolling Stones anthem "Start Me Up." As the defeated Democrat (now officially an insurgent candidate) hugged his family and shook hands with his supporters, the familiar but suddenly unpleasant lyrics shot out through the ballroom:
If you start me up
If you start me up I'll never stop . . .
Slide it up!
As I listened to this, another Joe supporter -- a somewhat older woman in horn-rimmed glasses -- came over and cornered me.
"You know what?" she said. "You reporters are all alike. You won't admit it, but you're all anti-Semites . . . "
I scratched my head. Anti-Semites? The song rattled on creepily:
If you rough it up
If you like it you can slide it up, slide it up
I shuddered at this, trying to keep my wits, but Horn-Rimmed Glasses was still whaling away at me. "You people really do have no respect," she went on. "Joe is such a wonderful man . . . "
"Listen," I exploded, interrupting her. "Do you know what this song is about?"
She froze.
"It's about a guy who gets an erection that doesn't go away," I said. "Can you explain to me why this song is playing now? What the hell is wrong with you people?"
I'd been joking with another reporter that en route to his capitulation Joe would leave fingernail tracks in the carpet leading all the way back to his private room upstairs, but surprisingly he did not have to be dragged onstage at all, and his little elfin nails looked unbloodied and intact as he spoke. I was looking over a crowd of reporters and Joe staffers, off to the right and to the rear of the hall, as he announced his determination to press on:
"If the people of Connecticut are good enough to send me back to Washington . . . " he began, "I promise them I will keep fighting for the same progressive new ideas and for stronger national security . . . "
At the words progressive new ideas I couldn't help myself and let out a little laugh, recalling Lieberman's determination to yank funding from public schools that counseled suicidal teens that it was OK to be gay. Was that the kind of progressive idea he was talking about? I really did try to muffle it, but it was too late -- a middle-aged woman with big dangly earrings in a Lieberman T-shirt whipped around and glared at me.
"Yes?" I said.
"Have some respect!" she snapped.
"What?" I shouted.
"You should be ashamed of yourself!" she hissed.
I shrugged. A few minutes later, Lieberman ended his speech with an impassioned promise to fight on: "I believe tonight, more than ever, in America's greatness in its values . . . Will you join me? "
Roars, cheers from the crowd; the sneering lady in front of me jumped up and down; and then, weirdly, Joe descended from the stage to the strains of the Tattoo You-era Rolling Stones anthem "Start Me Up." As the defeated Democrat (now officially an insurgent candidate) hugged his family and shook hands with his supporters, the familiar but suddenly unpleasant lyrics shot out through the ballroom:
If you start me up
If you start me up I'll never stop . . .
Slide it up!
As I listened to this, another Joe supporter -- a somewhat older woman in horn-rimmed glasses -- came over and cornered me.
"You know what?" she said. "You reporters are all alike. You won't admit it, but you're all anti-Semites . . . "
I scratched my head. Anti-Semites? The song rattled on creepily:
If you rough it up
If you like it you can slide it up, slide it up
I shuddered at this, trying to keep my wits, but Horn-Rimmed Glasses was still whaling away at me. "You people really do have no respect," she went on. "Joe is such a wonderful man . . . "
"Listen," I exploded, interrupting her. "Do you know what this song is about?"
She froze.
"It's about a guy who gets an erection that doesn't go away," I said. "Can you explain to me why this song is playing now? What the hell is wrong with you people?"
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