The Further Adventures of Peggy Noonan
Anatomy of a Column
eggy Noonan was cocooned in the warm and welcoming arms of her Town Car on her way back from Park Avenue Liquor (where she had just bought the makings for her traditional Thanksgiving old-time Mailbu Baked Apple — coconut rum, cranberry juice, apple juice, and dried apple rings as a garnish). Noonan’s driver lurched the car forward in the terrible afternoon traffic. Noonan took a swig from her dainty flask that she affectionately called her First Aid Kit. “You never know when you might have an emergency,” she giggled to herself.
Last Thanksgiving, it looked as if a hard year was coming, and it was and it did. The holiday was shadowed by a sense of economic foreboding—Wall Street failing, companies falling and layoffs coming. It isn’t over—no one thinks it’s over. But the mood of this Thanksgiving looks to be different. “Kinder, gentler,” mused Noonan.
It had been like this once before, after the transformative presidency of Ronald Wilson Reagan, the greatest president of the last half of the last century, maybe the greatest president ever, and the tragic and inept presidency of the first Bush had started and nearly destroyed Ronnie’s legacy. It was like all the magic had been used up, the oxygen left the room, and the great plodding had begun.
George Bush #43 was another transformative presidency and so Noonan was not surprised that there seemed to be no magic, no oxygen in this new presidency of that man, that likable man, that man now sitting at Ronnie’s desk. One of Noonan’s friends had said he was thankful to see a person of color sworn into the office of the President.
Most of Noonan’s friends were grateful that he had not wrecked the economy as predicted. “Give him time, time, time…” Most of her friends said that they were grateful that the economy had not cratered as predicted. “At least not for us, not for our class” thought Noonan as she looked at all the shuttered and empty store fronts. Noonan was grateful to have been raised in America that taught well the rules of survival—perseverance, discipline. She took another delicate swig from her First Aid kit.
Some of Noonan’s friends were grateful for good health, or for having health insurance, “That will stop soon,” Noonan declared to the empty back seat, “if the Democrats get their way.”
The car inched its way through rush hour, and at every lurch and stop, it seemed someone came running over to either wash the windows or to smudge them. Noonan rolled down her window to ask one of them what he was grateful for.
“My kid learned to fish, so maybe we’ll eat better this year. What are you grateful for, lady?”
“I’m grateful for Bergdorf’s Christmas windows, and television,” she murmured. “We’re in another golden age of TV, you know.”
Noonan tapped the glass that separated her from the driver. “What are you grateful for,” she asked breathlessly.
“The glass partition,” he said as he rolled it back up.
Still Here After a Rough Year
We’re serving up a new gratitude this Thanksgiving. — By Peggy Noonan
Illustration courtesy of the amazing DCap
I like to see a electronized page from an illustrated coffee table such as this, but goddamn this dcap for his continued usage of Babs’ image. Shudder n’ vomit.
If tengrain didn’t stick in lines at the end where he goes from the first person musings to 3rd person reflections like this:
Noonan tapped the glass that separated her from the driver. “What are you grateful for,” she asked breathlessly.
“The glass partition,” he said as he rolled it back up.
I might not be able to tell which is the 10G snark, and what’s Noonaneese…
I’m beginning to worry about ten, he’s perfectly channeling Peggy, and to my mind this can be dangerous! Once he drowns in that turgid mind, he may never come back!
Ole Pego needs a new Holiday cocktail recipe. She would enjoy a few Bowel Banger shooters, combination vodka and prune juice. Instant diarrhea… a kinder, gentler colon cleansing.
I love these! The punch line always makes me LOL.
i cant wait till peggy has an xmas dinner
Killer punch line!
The window display is Noonderful.
Moeman – That illustration is the genius of Dcap’s work. I contacted him last night and demanded (I really did, I was very rude and not genteel à la Dame Peggington Noonington of the Bergdorf Nooningtons) and demanded a collage of Nooner at Bergdorf’s. And the rest is something for me to be grateful for. Well, that and teevee.
BananaPhish – That is a real drink, The Malibu Baked Apple, and yes, my short stint as a bartender in college, I actually made one (or something like it) for the holidaze.
WagonJak – I try to cite Noonan, chapter and verse, and roll my own with her.
PsychoBroad – thanks; my creative writing teacher would probably slit his wrists if he knew how much he influenced me. Actually, the bastard didn’t give me an A…
DCap – I am forever in your debt.
Pissed – If you knew the hangover I get by proxie just writing one of these things, that should be what you worry about…
Regards,
Tengrain
Pitch perfect. As always. but I agree with wagonjak. Brilliant, but spooky.
Based on her earlier adventures at Park Avenue Liquor, she had to pay cash, right?