On Friday afternoon I didn't feel like watching a funeral on TV. I loved Reagan, my first political hero, and knew the day would be of historical significance. But I watched much of the previous week's various ceremonies and wasn't sure the funeral itself was going to be of further benefit to me. Sitting around on a Friday and coming to terms with mortality and history and wearying political battles to come, all narrated by old politicians and tired journalists, it didn't seem enticing. Especially when I had a rare Friday afternoon off from work. But out of a sense of responsibility to something, I decided to give it a chance, and I'm glad I did.
Friday's funeral ceremonies for President Reagan were beautifully conceived and executed. It was a wonderful send off for the great man and I can't imagine it going any better than it did.
First, the martial magnificence of the state funeral at the National Cathedral. It exhibited Western Civilization at its finest. The soaring architecture of the church, the glorious music (both classical hymns and secular standards), the unyielding discipline and flawless organization of the military guard, the respectful gathering of the contentious partisan factions of our government's leadership, the sermons and homilies celebrating our long history of individual liberty. And all of it under the aegis of Christianity, the golden crosses of Our Savior, held high throughout. I have to believe any antagonistic Islamicists viewing this spectacle had to shudder anew at the realization of the nature of the enemies they have chosen.
Then it was off to California, for the family ceremony. From the moment they landed in Simi Valley you could feel the weight of institutional somberness lift. They were back in the land of blue skies, gentle rolling hills, the shimmering Pacific, and people wearing shorts and sunglasses waving from the side of the road. California, the mythical land of American dreams, and freedom, and the future. On this day California played it's part with bewildering beauty.
Ron Reagan Jr's eulogy included this description of what his father's heaven would look like:
Humble as he was, he never would have assumed a free pass to heaven. But in his heart of hearts, I suspect he felt he would be welcome there. And so he is home. He is free.
Those of us who knew him well will have no trouble imagining his paradise. Golden fields will spread beneath a blue dome of a western sky. Live oaks will shadow the rolling hillsides. And someplace, flowing from years long past, a river will wind towards the sea. Across those fields, he will ride a gray mare he calls Nancy D. They will sail over jumps he has built with his own hands. He will at the river carry him over the shining stones. He will rest in the shade of the trees.
Our cares are no longer his. We meet him now only in memory. But we will join him soon enough. All of us. When we are home, when we are free.
Back in storm cloud-darkened nightfall in St. Paul, I watched on my TV as the sun started to set in California, creating what photographers call the golden hour. And I'll be damned if it didn't feel like paradise had descended on Simi Valley, if but for those fleeting moments.
It was all magnificent, I honestly can't imagine it going any better.
However ... there were two somewhat odd moments, both from the Simi Valley ceremony. Both involving dear, old Margaret Thatcher.
The final sermon was given by the presiding cleric (Presbyterian Reverend Robert Wenning--an expatriate Brit, no less). At the beginning of it, he was telling some anecdote involving the Iron Lady and out of the blue he broke into a verbal impression of her voice. Unfortunately, it sounded more like the croaky falsetto members of Monty Python use when aping the voice of a geriatric housewife. I think he was trying to be funny. And it's tough for an amateur to do voice work under any circumstances. But in these circumstances, no one was expecting humor and thus weren't prepared to even think of giving a polite titter. It bombed in a most uncomfortable way, and came off as disrespectful the former British Prime Minister, who just happened to be sitting in the second row. The camera actually cut to Thatcher during his impression and she kept her stiff upper lift throughout, which indicated she was either not paying attention or bloody hacked off at the routine. (She was probably thinking, 'I flew 5,000 miles in declining health to honor a friend and now some half assed, colonial monk is zinging me!?')
Then it got even stranger. As the broadcast was coming to a conclusion, the attendees were lining up for the final viewing of the now flagless casket carrying Reagan. At one point the camera then lingered on the Iron Lady. Margaret Thatcher, a seminal figure of the 20th Century and Reagan's primary ally in the the final, victorious days of the Cold War. It was a dignified, inspiring moment.
Then the network (Fox, I think) smash cut directly to the face of ... Scott Baio. Yes, Chachi, Charles in Charge, that goofy SOB from the movie Zapped. From Margaret Thatcher. To Scott Baio.
At first I didn't believe my visual identification. Too weird, I thought. But the camera stayed long enough on Chachi for me to be quite sure, it was him. Corroboration of this sighting is provided by the Sacramento Bee (the definitive source for all Scott Baio sightings):
From veteran actor Mickey Rooney to "Happy Days" television star Scott Baio, celebrities from [Reagan's] early acting days and from later in his life came to pay their respects.
Did Scott Baio ever act with Ronald Reagan? A cameo on Happy Days perhaps? Was there an undeveloped pilot in the 1970's called "The Gipper Loves Chachi"?
It's hard to believe that Reagan and Baio became friends later in life. I suspect his attendance is a comment on the paucity of Conservatives in Hollywood. They needed some show biz presence and, sadly, he is in the first rank of non liberals. When your most prominent representatives are Tom Selleck, Wayne Newton, and Scott Baio, let's just say you do not have a deep bench.
I'm not even sure Scott Baio has worked anywhere in the past 20 years. Which means, I suppose, he might have been at the Reagan funeral to park cars or sweep up afterwards. They did only show him from the neck up, so he could have been wearing a white jump suit and carrying a broom.
That's not to say Scott Baio has been excluded from the important economic and political debates of the day. Back on September 30, 1998, he showed up in this observation by David Letterman:
Top Ten Things Dumb Guys Say About The Economy
10. "Hey--betcha I can swallow a roll of quarters!"
9. "We need to worry less about our economy and more about the financial state of the country."
8. "Buy low, say hi."
7. "If you've ever wanted to burn money, this is a good time to do it, because there's a lot of it."
6. "Wall Street? So is it a wall or a street?"
5. "I recommend you buy CBS stock."
4. "Don't blame me, I voted for Scott Baio."
3. "Dow Jones--didn't he sing 'What's New, Pussycat?'"
2. "A penny saved is a penny you can use to scratch lottery tickets."
1. "Money good."
I wonder if the copyright has expired on that one yet. It would make a great bumper sticker.
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