Dead People That I Miss
I was sitting in my favorite tavern hoisting a St. Paulie Girl, watching the cable news. As usual I was shirtless and talking to Mike… my navel.
“Did you see that today?” I said. “That was something. Bremer’s hair had a special coating of gloss to it today and we gave Iraq back to the Iraqis. Is this a great country or what?”
Silence from Mike.
“Hey are you losing hair?” I asked.
“You know, when are you ever going to learn?” Mike asked. “You saw the same thing I did and all you got out of it was a hair cut. Where did you go to school? Harvard?”
“But Mike,” I pleaded. “We did a good thing today. We kept a promise. Our word is our bond once again.”
Mike let out a deep sigh. It was disgusting to watch.
“Mike,” I said. “Do you know when you do that you look like an anus?”
“Look,” Mike went on. “I know this seems like a big deal. Three months ago we were all yucking it up because Bush went on TV and admitted that we didn’t know who in the hell we were going to turn Iraq over to. The ability to demonstrate basic competence is no reason to be dancing in the streets.”
“Sour grapes my friend, sour grapes.”
“Now listen to me. We’ve got a ton of crap on our heads and today we moved a thimble full of it. And we moved it off our big toe. I’d prefer it if we dug the shit out of our ears first if you don’t mind.”
“You’re losing me Mike.”
“Blunt, buddy. No one knows who we are any more. What does America stand for? Yeah, sure, people want to come to the U.S. in droves. But didn’t it used to be that they came here for a chance at a new life and because America stood for something good, and different from the rest of the world?”
“We still do.” I was getting hot and considered dumping my beer on Mikes head. But a crotch full of St. Paulie Girl isn’t exactly a great way to charm the ladies.
“Aren’t you tired of America only standing for big screen TVs, SUVs and The Swan? We’re a country that used to dream big. Cross the continent with steam locomotives. Put a man on the moon. Fight poverty. Kill injuns…ummm. Ok, not everything we did was good, but still. And when the big scary day descended on us, the best the government could do was tell us not to stop shopping? So what did Bremer hand the Iraqis when they signed the papers? Coupons? A gift card to Best Buy?”
“Yeah, that’s a real puzzler there Mike.” My navel was falling asleep. Ranting makes him tired. Some wingman he turned out to be.
Well, the above was a terrible experiment. I apologize. It’s just that it’s been over seven years since Mike Royko died and I miss him terribly. God, I wish he’d been here through the impeachment; the 2000 election and all the terrible and Kafkaesque machinations of the current administration. I miss Slats Grobnik. I’m dying to know what column he’d publish today.
Observing the columnists and pundits of today is like watching the new Star Wars movies and yelling, “What do you mean there’s no Hans Solo in this turd?” Progressive used to also be funny. I can’t live in the land of the shrill. I lost Mike Royko and all society gave me in return was Paul Begala? I got ripped off. I got hosed. I want a motherfucking refund.
I don’t personally know any public figures. Never have. But there are a bunch that I miss, and Mike Royko is at the top of the list. I read him and appreciated him when I was just a kid and didn’t know all of the context of the larger world he was eviscerating. I do now, and it makes me miss him all the more.
Jacob Weisburg eulogized him better than I ever could. Check out the link. Tell me if you don’t get a pang.
http://slate.msn.com/id/23389/
6:17:54 AM 
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