Itâ€™s been forty years since Woodstock and the last Kennedy is dead.
My heart is broken, Pumpkins. The age of Aquarius has left the building. And that Trudeau kid is kind of a ninny.
Some of you may think of Ted as a drunken, whoring misogynist who left a young girl drowning in his car. OK, thatâ€™s fair. Now John was much more delicate about such things â€“ he got the CIA to get rid of his girlfriends. A strong sense of entitlement will tend to warp oneâ€™s brain. (Oh god, if you could see how loose the bubbles are in my cappuccinoâ€™s froth. You canâ€™t get a good Barista these days.)
Anyhoo, all that nasty business aside, Ted Kennedy was an extraordinary man. His passing makes me feel like I have to grow up. Face facts. Accept a new reality — and I donâ€™t want to! I want Pan Am to fly. I want flight attendants to be stewardesses. And I want commissions. There, Iâ€™ve said it. I liked things just the way they were. And I will keep saying that becauseâ€¦ I like to repeat things.