The good news is, the kids sounds awesome, at least for now — giving the lie to the very title of this broad’s own book…
What, I wonder all too often, will be left after Donald Trump’s America (and the possible versions of it that might follow him)? Will there, by then, be an insurgent movement of some sort in this country? Could Indivisible go rogue (please)? Maybe they’d have a nonviolent political wing the way the Sandinistas did in Nicaragua in the 1980s? With the help of volunteers from all over the hemisphere, they eradicated illiteracy, brought in the coffee harvest, and vaccinated against diseases (while their armed wing fought against the U.S.- backed Contras). Maybe in our city, my grown-up kids can harvest potatoes — no coffee grows here, not yet, anyway — teach reading, and write revolutionary propaganda. (…)
“When will I die, mama?” Madeline asked at breakfast one day recently. She’ll be four next month. Her tone is curious, as if she were asking when it will be Saturday or her birthday.
“Not for a long time, I hope,” I responded, trying to stay calm. “I hope you’ll die old and quiet like dear Uncle Dan.”
“I want to die LOUD, mama!”
I’m not sure what she means, but already I don’t like it.
“I want to die like a rock star!” her brother Seamus interjects.
Good for you, children. I’m looking forward to reading I Want To Die LOUD, Mama! My Journey From Commie Spawn To Right-Wing Ass-Kicker, in 2042…
By the way, for an insightful analysis of how the archetype of the “rock star” continues, like that of the “cowboy,” to fascinate us even through the real life personifications of both are mostly extinct, read this.
