The Apples Didn't Fall Very Far From The Tree

Somewhere high above Drew and Merigold Mississippi, my father is rubbing his hands together and enjoying himself.
(My father believed that heaven was located directly over his farm in the Mississippi Delta. I'm grateful that, if he had to die, he was able to die while working on that Mississippi farm. He was able to go straight up to his eternal reward. Had he died anywhere else, he would've had to veer.)

Why is he laughing and enjoying himself so much, you ask?

My baby sister, Amy, My sister, Dr. Amy Cooper, recently had an editorial published in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. It's called "I Am Not The President. I Just Play One On TV." For a few months, you'll be able to read it on the Star-Telegram's site by clicking here. After that, click here, where I've saved it for my nieces to read 40 years from now.

(Hello Lexie, Hello Shelby. If you happen to read this in 40 years, please tell the attendants at my nursing home that I do NOT like fruit in my Jello.)

Please read Dr. Cooper's editorial when you get a chance, and get back to me.

Pretty good, wasn't it? Especially the last paragraph....

Over the next 10 days, as these two men rehearse their lines, choose their ties, and apply their makeup, Americans can only hope each man wants to govern, wants to restore moral authority to our country, wants to be president and not just play one on TV.

Hey, I'M supposed to be the family cynic.

I haven't discussed this with her, but if Dr. Cooper was published in the Star-Telegram on the 25th, she probably had to submit her piece by the 21st. That's the same day that I posted something comparing the presidential candidates to actor Heath Ledger. (Click here if you want to read it. It's nowhere near as polished as hers, and doesn't make nearly as much sense, but mine has far better pictures.)

So what's my point?

Neither one of us had talked to the other about politics. She didn't tell me she was working on something for the Star-Telegram. But we simultaneously wrote something comparing political candidates to actors.

Here's what's weird about it. Every word we wrote was a variation on constant themes espoused by our father: Politicians are actors. They say what their handlers tell them to say. When you vote, your decision is based on an image, rather than substance. I rode in a pickup with our father for 15 years, and it was like listening to Talk Radio without any troublesome callers interrupting the host's monologue. I can no more get rid of his influence on me than I can change the color of my eyes, and I can't imagine wanting to.

My baby sister Dr. Amy Cooper wasn't exposed to as much of it, but the influence is definitely there.

Our father was probably the best man I've ever known, and he was a deeply spiritual person. But if he'd seen Obama's infomercial last night, he would've laughed all the way through it. Politics was the only part of his life where he allowed cynicism to enter. Boy, was he cynical about government. Dadgum gubmint....that was usually the phrase.

So Pop, if you're up there watching and listening, we're doing the best we can.