just an ordinary goddess…

…has been silenced.

Last night, Senator Edward “Ted” Kennedy died at the age of 77, after a year long battle with brain cancer.

I found out when CuteFilmNerd called me last night just as I was starting to drift into sleep. I fired up Twitter on my cell phone to see what others had tweeted and found only one news report, then realized it was much later Points East of Los Angeles. This morning I listened to President Obama’s words on Kennedy as I readied myself for work.

There will be much written about him today. No matter how much is written, it could never do justice to the Lion of the Senate. Some have said that, while he was never their senator, they felt that he was America’s Senator. This is a sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with.

My heart goes out to his family and friends in their grieving. But I also find that I’m grieving for myself and for the United States. Being human, he wasn’t a perfect man, but he was one of the best and brightest of us and his loss will be felt keenly. Especially at a time when he is needed most. May someone of his strength, courage and convictions stand up to take his torch. Let the roar of the lion be heard again.

Requiescat in pace, Senator Kennedy.
You will sorely be missed.

RIP, Walter Cronkite. They don’t make journalists like you any longer – more’s the pity.

Your integrity and humor will be sorely missed.

I came to Kurt Vonnegut’s work late. My first sit-down was Slaughterhouse Five, picked up from a Bookcrossing meeting in 2004. Much like my first experience with John Irving that same year, I wondered what had taken me so long to immerse myself in his worlds. I later found that I enjoyed Hocus Pocus better than his seminal work, but I still have so much Vonnegut to read.

RIP, Mr. Vonnegut. Writers – indeed, people – like you are few and far between. Your wit and brilliance will be sorely missed.

So it goes.

As many of you may know by now, yesterday Molly Ivins passed away, after a long struggle with breast cancer. She was 62.

It’s sobering to look at her age, to realize that when she died, Ms. Ivins was younger than my mother is now.

My commitment to this walk is even keener. Not only am I doing this in honor of my mother – a wonderful woman who’s had too much of life’s darker side kick her in the head – but now in memory of a keenly sharp woman who’s life work was to skewer the pomposity and over-weening arrogance of those who purported to be in service of the American people. She called ‘em like she saw ‘em, and she saw ‘em as clear-eyed as anyone did, and clearer-eyed than most.

RIP, Ms. Ivins. You’re already missed.

Peter Boyle has died.

In my thoughts, you’ll always be wearing a white tie and tails, dancing a little soft shoe and sending Madeline Kahn into song.