Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

After we landed and were getting our coats, I thought I'd take one last stab at jollying
her up. Knowing that Mrs. Bush had always been a champion of literacy programs, I decided
to brag on my daughter.
"Here's another thing you'll like about me," I said, reaching into the overhead bin
above her.
"I told you. I'm through with you." Somehow, we had regressed.
"I know, I know. But my daughter teaches kids to read." "We can't take credit for our
children," she scolded.
"We can't? Sure we can. Look at you. You've got two governors."
"I have five children," she said with a stern look. "And I'm proud of every one of
them."
"Even Neil?" I thought of saying. (He's the one who got mixed up in a sleazy S&L
deal in the eighties.) But I didn't. Instead, I said, "Well, if you're proud of them, that's kind of
like taking credit for them, isn't it?"
She just scowled at me one last time and said, "I'm through with you." Then she
turned and walked off the plane.
I had flown to Washington, instead of home to New York, to attend the Bat Mitzvah
of my friends' daughter. The dad is an extremely well-regarded political journalist who had
written about the Bushes for years, sometimes in glowing terms. Many of the guests would be
other Washington insiders, Democrats and Republicans alike. They would know whether
Mrs. Bush had just been kidding.
I must have told the story twenty times at the Bat Mitzvah (not during the service).
Huge laughs each time. Every "I'm through with you"-big laugh. But what everyone who
knew Barbara Bush thought was funniest-by far-was that I had kept thinking that she had
been kidding.
I kept hearing things like: "On no, she's a horrible bitch." "Omigod, she's the worst
bitch on earth." "She can be very charming, but Barbara Bush is the Queen Bitch."
Understand. This was absolutely universal. And not always said in an unadmiring
way. "She's the enforcer." "Barbara's the tough one." "She's mean, but she keeps everyone in
line."