The second it was posted, the inveterate blogger knew it was a mistake. He is not on deadline; he does not get a dime from these scribblings. Why rush it? Why pile on while everybody (including some who feel guilty about the attention lavished on some pop star's death) gushes on and on? Even President Carter had something nice to say, but if everybody who has so much to say about Senator Kennedy today, managed to vote for him during one or the other primary in 1980, we might have been spared Ronald Reagan. (The Roger Mudd thing was so bogus. We all knew why he was running for President. He was too polite to the aforesaid twerp then occupying the office to say so, but the right answer would have been sort of like, it's time for an actual Democrat to be President instead of some guy who calls himself that, but the word means something else in the South than it does to the rest of us.) He was, next to President Kennedy, the most significant politician living during my own consciousness, and his death means we are without a Kennedy in the Senate, White House or both for the first time in my 57 plus years breathing air. We can thank, again, the ever useless Gov Paterson for that and assume that Patrick Kennedy will emerge from the back benches of the House of Representatives to make his presence known in the same way his father did when Robert Kennedy was murdered. The criticism of Caroline Kennedy's candidacy sounds much like that directed at Senator Ted in 1962, doesn't it? Worked out okay, in my opinion.

What moved me to a second eulogy, though, was an odd line in the Globe's editorial about Senator Kennedy, which seemed almost compelled to intone that he "was not a great man" whileotherwise extolling his career. Putting aside the question of who or what gets to declare a particular person "great" and when they do that (President Harding was said to be "great" upon his death in office; not so much today, y'know) and not wanting to discuss Chappaquidick any more than necessary (I was tired of this conversation the minute Nixon the moralist decided we had to talk about it incessantly), I have to wonder what the criteria for greatness is.

I don't know which politicians, or ordinary people, were unfaithful to wives, drove while intoxicated, and made the wrong decision after a tragic incident which may have involved one or both of the aforedescribed vices. Washington and Lincoln were probably off the hook, given that the automobile did not exist in either man's lifetime and Lincoln was also a famous teetotaler, which exempts him on two counts. I do not minimize the woman's death, but Senator Kennedy was never charged with or conviocted of her murder and the hypocrites who suggest his last name had something to do with that, but defended the most recent past president's avoidance of military service and the quashing of his own problems, are not worth listening to. (Yes, as fas we know, none of that guy's problems led to anyone's death, but he is married to a woman who had an automobile accident resulting in a death, and her character is not regularly assailed).

But, without delving into a "judge not, lest you be judged yourself" rant, it is worth considering what the man went through, watching two brothers murdered while serving in office and, no doubt, questioning when the same might happen to him. Watching him trying to answer, in 1970 or so, Barbara Walters' inane question about whether "it was worth it" given all of that, especially recalling the venom hurled at him over the years (and watching the same crap being thrown around as if it were legitimate commentary on the current President's initiatives), it is a wonder that he did not spend each moment of his life curled in a fetal position chugging down as much alcohol as he could.

It was said then that if he, too, was assassinated, one might question why he remained in public service given his responsibilities to the fatherless nieces and nephews looking to him in the wake of his brother's deaths. The best that could be said is that neither of his brothers would have wanted him to slink away in fear but instead to represent what they stood for, and that he did flawlessly.

Since I am posting on this subject again, it is worth addressing one other thing that has bothered me since Senator Kennedy;s death. Chris Matthews' inanity aside, President Kennedy was murdered by a nut, not "a Communist" (Oswald was a communist when that suited his craziness; not so much when it didn't. He killed the President to "do something" and not for politics, I am sure, and Sirhan Sirhan killed Robert Kennedy for equally nutty reasons, and not, as Chris insists, in support of Arab terrorism.) This is important to keep in mind, while Matthews and others treat nuts as if they have reasonable political points to make, rather than just threatening harm to those with whom they disagree.

More to the point, Matthews' attempt to distinguish the EMK of the 70s, 80s, 90s and 00s, from the Robert and John Kennedys of the 1950s and 1960s, is more a reflection of the different times than any different philosophy. Had President Kennedy lived, he would have been as much an advocate for universal health insurance as we was for medicare before his death, for instance.

Rest in peace, Senator. I am proud of my baseball team (even as poorly as they play) because of the beautiful tribute they presented before Wednesday's game. I do not say the mourner's kaddish as often as I might, but I will tonight. I am so grateful for all he did for us and so sorry for our loss that I am truly bereft and unable to consider much else of national import.