The Presidency
It has been a crackerjack of a funeral, to borrow a term and an attitude from Hubert Humphrey's own exuberant life. How he would have loved it. Airplanes and military honors, the President and the pages, good old hymns badly but enthusiastically sung, organs booming and preachers praying mightily all across the country.
What a grand spectacle. Newspaper headlines and network specials, editors hammering their typewriters to new heights of deadline eloquence: everything being gloriously overdone at least a little. Friends from far and near in their dark suits standing around telling stories solemnly at first about...
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