Ted Kennedy: Only in America

Ted Kennedy isn't real. (Read that.) He's a prime (if not THE) character out of a uniquely American story of a ruthlessly ambitious, powerful family that represented the possibilities of a generation and the promise of rationality and hope in the Cold War-era. He belonged to a family that zig-zagged in and out dreadful tragedy and enacting true, positive change amongst Americans of all stripes, but especially those in need.

The endless string of demoralizing heartbreak and recklessness only made the triumphs of society that he was responsible for that much better. If there was ever a comeback story, it's of Ted Kennedy. Whether it was assassinations of his brothers, the womanizing, the near-death plane crash, Chappaquidik, his divorce, his botched and petulant run for president in '80, the bizarre death of JFK Jr. ... the list goes on, he may have had the most fascinating life in American history. That may be a trite, impossible statement to make. But, come on, you couldn't make this shit up.

Dying of a slow, power-zapping disease was his destiny. It's almost like it's what he had to endure to live to this point, to have the "opportunity" (or curse) to embody so much mysticism from his family's lore. Add all this to the Irish sadness and lament rushing through his blood, if you believe in that stuff. His life is a biographer's wet dream.

I mean, can you imagine his final months? I can only imagine that in times of certain, foreseeable death, the mind is nowhere to be found by much of anyone. I would guess that your mind flutters in and out of consciousness between the many periods of your life and reality, if only fleetingly. On one entire day, you may follow one person, or idea, or feeling through a thread of your entire life. You revel in any memories you can recall and dissect. No matter how sad or unbelievably happy (which probably is favored in those situations) the memory set was, you went through it all and savored the opportunity to reflect. The emotions, the gravity, the sanctity of every moment is multiplied by ten. And you think that maybe you'll see your long, lost loved ones again, whether you believe in a god or not. This could of course trigger regret and disgust. But Ted Kennedy doesn't strike me as someone that would dwell on the worst. He got this far in life by being, at heart, an optimist for the prospect of America. He could've quit numerous times throughout his life, but he stuck it out. He took his kicks and he had to work for the big victories.

Barack Obama is the living proof that only in America can a man like him, from where he came from, ever be the elected leader of the U.S. It's one of the supreme inspirational success stories of our time. But Ted Kennedy represents the ever-present and widespread feeling of painful downfall and heroic redemption in the lives of every American. Ironically, he was of privilege and power (which didn't hurt the redemption part). It took that silver-spooned boy from the Ivy League to stick up for the majority of Americans that don't have every advantage. I'm sorry, but that just might surpass Mr. Obama in the true-inspirational-American-story category.