Goodbye to Molly Ivins
for release 02-01-07
Washington DC
The Poet's Eye has a tear in it this morning. It's partly a tear of sadness because Molly Ivins is gone and partly it's a tear of joy that we had her while we did. Not a week has gone by in years without me reading her column. I will miss her sorely, I guess this tear is mainly for myself. When we cry at funerals, we cry for the living, not the dead.
Molly had a knack for taking the pomposity out of politics. With her plain language and colorful colloquialisms, and her salty charm, she could deflate even the most gargantuan windbags.
I never met Molly, though we both lived in the same town at times and had common friends. But like her many fans and readers, I felt like I knew her well. She was one of those rare journalists who made you feel like she was talking to you friend-to-friend.
I always thought of Molly as one of those great and saucy ladies of the Old West, like Belle Star or Annie Oakley or Calamity Jane. She was tough as any outlaw and her aim was deadly.
The Poet's Eye owes a lot to Molly Ivins. By example she taught me that it is possible to talk about tired subjects in a fresh way, that simple language was best to explain complex things and that poise means being able to hit the spittoon and still look like a lady no matter how drunk you are. These are important lessons for a columnist.
This morning I have read six eulogies to Molly Ivins. You will probably see many others. (including this one) This is because, while her readers loved her, other writers loved her even more and I know I'm not the only one who studied her style and enjoyed her inspiration.
Yes, there is a tear in The Poet's Eye this morning and yes, it is a tear for myself. I know Molly will be fine. She's probably already sitting at the Devil's dinner table and regaling him with tales of Texas folklore. Keep a chair warm for me Molly.
