Because we live not too far away from the Reagan Museum and were very aware of the throngs that had been drawn to pay their respects to the recently deceased ex-president, my wife innocently mentioned what an impressive send-off he’d received from a grateful nation.
My niece replied, “Nothing more than President Carter will receive.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Before I’d even thought about it, I found myself saying, “Are you kidding? It’s bad enough that Carter was the worst president I can recall, with a legacy that includes ceding Iran to the Ayatollah Khomeini; bungling the hostage rescue; a 21% inflation rate and 10% unemployment; but, not one to rest on his laurels, he then became the worst ex-president in history.”
Between clenched teeth, my niece asked me what basis I had for that remark. I told her that, unlike every other ex-president, he hasn’t stopped meddling in foreign affairs since leaving office. What’s more, he accepted a Nobel Peace Prize even though the head of the awards committee admitted that it was intended as an insult to President Bush. Carter is so besotted with himself that he will go anywhere he can count on being treated royally, and it doesn’t matter in the least that those who love him the most are Castro, Chavez and anyone who hates Israel as much as he does. Speaking of which, he was Yasser Arafat’s greatest fan. He even insisted on attending Arafat’s funeral, not, like a normal person, to make certain the butcher was actually dead, but to pay his respects.”
In response to which, my niece informed me, “Jimmy Carter is a saint.”
Until that very moment, I had always thought that when people said that something had so astonished them that their jaw dropped to the floor it was just an expression. In my case, I had to get down on my knees and use both hands to pick it up.
All the way back to Los Angeles, I replayed the conversation in my head, and I finally came to the conclusion that there might very well be insanity in the family.