Karl Klockars

You may have known Ted Kennedy.  You may have served with him, you may have been his friend, and you know Ted Kennedy.  And I, sir, am no Ted Kennedy.  Nor will the following hunk of text be about Ted Kennedy, per se.  Oh, sure, everyone else is talking about Ted today, as well they should.  My brain works differently.

It started working that way when CNN (who have some of the happiest producers on earth when they get to write captions like the one I saw earlier this week referencing “Skank-Gate”) asked a very simple question.  It wasn’t one that I thought necessarily needed asking while the man’s body was still cooling.  It wasn’t one that probably needed asking at all.

They queried:  Which Kennedy is going to fill Ted’s shoes?  Who is going to step up in the Kennedy clan?  Who is going to move up in the ranks?  My first question was (and not unfairly, I think):  Are there any more Kennedys?  Didn’t fate intervene like a Final Destination movie and take them all out?

My second question was:  Am I reading this right?  They’re not just asking who in the Senate is going to step up, are they?  Aaaaaand, no, I’m pretty sure they’re not.  They do indeed seem to be specifying that they’re looking right down that family tree at this point.  (If I’m wrong, apologies to CNN.  However, the responsibility for message falls upon the transmitter, so maybe a seminar in “word choice” could be in some staffer’s future.)

My third and final question was:  Who gives a shit?

I’ll answer that final one myself – probably far too many people give a shit.  Which gives me pause.  When did we get so concerned with dynasty?  Why is there so much invested in the concept of familial power, or linear passing of position, on down the line?  Who the hell gets off on saying that solely because someone is related to someone else, they have a lock on something that should be available to all?

Maybe this style of American Dynasty rubs me the wrong way because it’s omnipresent.  During the primary season, Hillary Clinton could have cured cancer while recording a modern-day Sgt. Pepper, and I still wouldn’t have voted for her solely because I don’t want that power situated in just two American families.

The current Chicago mayor is sitting where he is today based on the arrangement of the 5 letters in his last name (and a tremendous amount of Machinery arranged behind it.)  And you could say the same thing about the Cook County Board Presidency dynasty, and we know how that’s working out.

Same goes for the Bush eras in our life.  I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive this plane of reality for making me spend my 20s under the GWB regime.  And so on down the line.  And I can guaran-damn-tee you that no matter how long I live in the Chicago area, I will never cast a vote for either a Sasha or Malia Obama candidacy.  Just based on principle.

The question of what Kennedy needs to step up is currently writhing around underneath my skin because the question really should be what human being – what American citizen – should be doing just that.  Self-limiting is so frustratingly stupid that I can’t believe we’re doing it based on our history.  Shouldn’t we know better?

Mostly, I think I don’t want to even honor that question at all any further because its premise is just depressing.  I want to live in a world where the promise of “anyone can” still exists, and not “anyone can, but it helps if your dad knows someone.”  I prefer a country where I’m not judged on the basis of a parent’s political or social or economic knowhow, but my own.

Michael Jordan’s kid, who quit the basketball team recently, has larger balls than anyone else I’ve heard of recently.  I hope he becomes a really good accountant and can leave the shadow of his father in his past.  Why are people led down the path of nepotistic least resistance?  At the very least, I want nothing to do with them because they’ve done what’s so unbelievably easy.  No one respects that.

I want the next Ted Kennedy to not be named Kennedy.  I want him to earn everything he’s got (which is something you can’t even entirely level at Teddy) and I want him to want it for the right reasons.  I want their parents to be loving but uninvolved in their professional careers.  I want to think that if they can do it, I can do it.  Because we can do it.  Sometimes we’re just not allowed, and it’s because that kid over there with the rich and powerful dad bought their way in first.  And that ain’t fair.