This is about the dance
That’s what Peggy says. She thinks that FDR and Reagan had more fun than their successors do.
FDR, of course, could dance. He gets caught breaking a vow he’d made in Philadelphia when first running for president. What to do? He and his aides agree. “First thing, deny we were in Philadelphia!” FDR on the stump, chanting the names of his congressional foes, rolling their names in his marbly tones. “Martin, Barton and Fish!” And announcing, gravely, that he is not offended by charges he used government transport to ferry his pets, but his little dog Fala is very upset.
Or this: It’s the 1960s and California’s new governor, warring with the public university system, goes to meet with the chancellors. Students mass to protest his arrival by standing shoulder to shoulder and staring at him in complete and jarring silence. He arrives, walks past, turns at the doorway and puts his finger to his lips. Ssshhhh, he says, and winks. They start to laugh. Or the time he was heckled at a rally in 1984, and said, “You know, I may let Mr. Mondale raise his taxes.” Ronald Reagan could dance.
Or: Jack Kennedy waving with his short modest chop as the nuns jumped as the cavalcade passed and the crowds went mad. The sweet, knowing smile that said “I don’t deserve it”, and “But don’t let that stop you.” He had the dance too.
It’s hard to find the dance this year.
