No Rose-Colored Remembrance Here
I am not one of the apparently millions of Americans who is in mourning over the death of Ronald Reagan.
I became politically aware during his tenure as president. I don’t remember thinking he was one of the good guys, I don’t remember thinking he was leading this country in the right direction, and I don’t remember thinking he even knew what the hell he was doing.
I remember James Watts crusading against the environment and Edwin Meese crusading against pornography. I remember Reagan nominating Robert Bork for Supreme Court Justice. I remember the Reagan administration trying to classify ketchup as vegetable in order to avoid paying for enough actual food in school lunches. I remember Reagan joking about bombing the Soviet Union.
I remember the inanity of Nancy Reagan urging us to Just Say No, and the absurdity of her reliance on the advice of an astrologer. I remember Iran-Contra, Oliver North, and the sinking feeling I got in my stomach when I realized they were going to get away with it.
I remember Reagan’s union-busting. I remember Reagan’s desire to deregulate and put even more power in corporate hands.
I remember Reagan’s silence on AIDS, his refusal to care about a disease that he thought only the “wrong people” die from.
As a politician, he was the epitome of style over substance. He looked good on television. He knew how to deliver a speech. He knew how to lie.
No, I don’t mourn his death. If I am going to mourn anything related to Reagan, it will be the legacy he has left us: unchecked corporate greed, mind-boggling debt, and the telling of incredible lies.

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