Beginnings As A Liberal

*************************************************

Well I can seen that he definitely WAS
putting out a quality product.
I mean,

he wasn't just shreiking
and screaming offensive nonsense like a women's libber,

nor yet bellowing and yelling angry hollow threats
like the big fat idiots
of today's Right Wing Noise Machine.

Our graduate student's writings were throught provoking,
yet entertaining...

hard hitting,
yet soft and gentle..

sublime,
yet ridicul...
spare me...please !
I fancy myself
to be a bit the writer, myself, you know !
No ? Really ?

Oh, Yes !
As a matter of fact, I...
Isn't this supposed to be
about our graduate student
and his 1982 Newsletters ?
Isn't it finally HIS TURN now ?

oh, yes. Yes! Of Course It Is !
Of Course It Is !
Please Continue !
You know, I'd like to know more
about our graduate student's background,
his upbringing...
his formative experiences,
his thoughts and feelings,
his political and intellectual development.
You say he was brought up as a liberal,
and then you say he became an original neocon !?

That Excerpt from Diane Ravitch's Book
Is Quite Compelling,
"On many of the most troubled campuses,
lifelong friendhips among faculty members were destroyed.
The disorders, the broken friendships,
and the disputes between radicals and liberals
shattered the broad liberal consensus
that had prevailed on most campuses.
At one end of the spectrum,
a small but conspicuous number of disillusioned liberals
began to shape a critique of the liberal tradition
that came to be known as neoconservatism."
 
Our graduate student was an ORIGINAL NEOCON !
(The Troubled Crusade, p.224)"

Is That It Right There?
Does That Sum Up Our Graduate Student
And Answer The Question I Just Asked ?
Does That Summarize How He Went
From Being A Liberal To Being An Original Neocon ?
Tell Me A Little More About That.
Yes, it does, I think.
You know, it's quite a chore
to answer a question like that.
On the one hand,
one can get bogged down
presenting too much detail,
and on the other hand,
one can omit much important informaion,
in the interest of brevity.

Well, here goes.
I'll try to get it just right.
I think it's important, of course,
to at least briefly describe
his family background
(with consideration of the historical times, of course !
no "Presentism" here, like the shallow campus liberals do !).
But, his OWN intellectual, political, and social views
really didn't develop until later in high school
and through the "college years".
So, I'll emphasize those  5 years after high school.
They were formative years in his life,
but they were also very dramatic years of upheavel
(1968 - 1973)
in American political, social, and intellectual life.

All Right.
That sounds like a reasonable plan.
Please tell me about his childhood.
All right.
The main point is that his parents
were liberals and well-educated.
And, especially, to the point of addressing
two main topics
of Our Graduate Student's 1982 Newsletters,
his parents were liberals
regarding racial issues and feminism.

It's important to make that main point,
because categorizing people
as liberals or conservatives or whatever
is usually a debatable thing,
and I'm just trying to present
an accurate and concise description
of our graduate student's background,
not start a lengthy debate.

His parents were Catholics
and many people will argue
that the Catholic religion is fascistic.
Well, sure, anything in the extreme
can be fascistic.
We often use the phrase "extreme fascist",
but that's kind of a redundancy.
People who are extreme in anything
tend to have fascistic tendencies,
even the soup nazi.

Yes, That's An Excellent Observation!
Yes, well the point here is that
his parents were Irish Catholic Democrats
from the Northeast
in the tradition of The Kennedys -
JFK, RFK, and Edward Kennedy -
all of them.
It doesn't get more "Liberal" than that.

That's Certainly True.
And That Point's Not Even Debatable !
OK, good.
Well, as a matter of fact,
Our Graduate Student's grandfather (maternal)
was an elected liberal politician.
He was a New Jersey State Assemblyman (Democrat).
He was part of "Boss" Hague's political machine
in Jersey City (think of the Mayors Dailey in Chicago).

His father was also on the
Jersey City Board of Education, I think.
It might have been
the New Jersey State Board of Education.
I'm not sure.
Our graduate student's mother
was often a little drunk
when she pontificated on
the greatness of her father
and of the background from which she came.

The main point there is that
education was very important
in his mother's family.
She was actually an elementary schoolteacher
for two or three years
before she got a job in the investment dept of a bank,
and she made her children do their homework every night.
She was determined that they would have
the best education possible
and, to her,
as an Irish Catholic from downtown Jersey City,
that meant a Jesuit education.

You said she was a feminist ?
A "psychotic women's libber" would be more accurate.
Our graduate student's older sister
has diagnosed their mother
with a "Borderline Personality Disorder" diagnosis.
Though our graduate student
is pretty contemptuous of the nonsense
spouted by the psychology industry,
he thinks his sister is on to something there,
and he agrees with his sister's diagnosis
of their mother as severely "Borderline".
Some of the most vivid and frightening memories
from his childhood and adolescence
are those of his mother
throwing violent tantrums
that lasted for hours.
She would scream and yell for hours
about the greatness of her father and of her family
and of Jersey City
and of the horribleness of her husband's family
and of Newark.
She would often throw and break plates
during these tirades.
She was quite the drama queen !

I'm Stunned !
Yeah, our graduate student often
describes his mother as having
the personality of General Patton.

That's Horrible ! How Sad !
Yeah, I guess it is.
But, then again,
that colorful comparison
is just our graduate student being dramatic himself.
After all, he is his mother's son !

How Interesting!
This attempt to describe our graduate student's background
is turning into
quite the intriguing psychological adventure !
I warned you that it would be
quite the slippery slope.
But our graduate student's mother
had quite a strong and dominating personality
and was a dominating influence in his childhood
and adolescence.
It's important to point out
her strengths and weaknesses
and what that brought to his upbringing.

Is His Sister A Psychologist ?
No. Just a professional patient.

I Can See Why !
Yes, it's sad.
All her life,
she's been obsessed
with the psychological analysis of her mother.
The two HATED each other.

How much older was she than our graduate student ?
Nine years,
almost half a generation.
The oldest brother was ten years older,
and the next brother five and a half years older,
so our graduate student
was the youngest by far.
Of course,
to his parents and siblings,
he was "the baby brother" all his life.
His sister says he was "an accident",
an unintentional pregnancy.

She says he was the only one of them
who grew up normal and healthy.
His mother always wanted to get out of the house
and enjoy the stimulation of the work world.
He remembers having a nanny as a toddler.
When he was kindergarten age,
she brought him along
to the school where she taught
and enrolled him in the first grade,
in the classroom right across the hallway from her.
By the time he was in the second grade,
he was already a latchkey kid.

Second grade a latchkey kid !
That's incredibly abusive !
Oh, now YOU'RE being dramatic !
You're just applying the crazy liberal ideas
of today
where any little swat on the butt by a parent
is a considered a capital crime !

The school was practically across the street
from his house.
He doesn't really remember
how he got to and from school
in the second and third grades.
Maybe his sister or brother or neighbors took him.
Maybe his mother dropped him off
before she went to her school
and hurried home afterwards.
He does remember that,
in the fourth grade,
he used to walk home alone at lunch time
to eat lunch with the Italian lady upstairs.
She was their tenant in the "flat" upstairs.
His parents owned a two-family house
and rented out the second floor.
So, from fourth grade on
he was a real latchkey kid.

All right, finish the picture.
You've Already Given So Much Info About His Childhood.
This Is Getting To Be A Really Long Story.
Yeah, I know.
Let's wrap it up
and then do high school quickly
and then the following five years.

Well, as I said,
his mother, for her convenience,
put him in the first grade
when he was kindergarten age.
She let him go through
elementary school and high school
a year younger than his classmates.
That was a mistake, for social reasons.
By eighth grade,
when many of the other boys
were well into their growth spurt,
he was the shortest by far.
He was often teased about it.
You know how stupid boys are.

He was great at sports, though,
and could beat up most of the boys in the class,
except the ones who were twice as big as him.
Here's a little anecdote.
One of the boys in the class,
who was a year older,
and quite a bit bigger and stronger,
had a grudge or something towards
our young graduate student.
Who knows why for sure ?
It was probably partly jealousy,
or maybe adolescent issues,
or maybe a family thing
(like his parents not liking
our graduate student's parents).
Anyway, he couldn't pick a fight
with our graduate student,
because it was a clear mismatch,
and he would have been socially condemned if he did.
So he arranged for a big kid from another school
to pick a fight with our young graduate student
one day in the park.
Well, our young graduate student
thought it was all kind of stupid
because he didn't even know this kid
and didn't have any bad blood with him
so he saw no reason to fight him.
But when his friends told him
that he was chickening out
he stepped up to the challenge and to the kid and said,
"all right ! you wanna fight !"
and shoved this big kid so hard
that he went flying backward
onto the grass on his back.
Our young gradute student
got on top of him
and pressed his head and face into the ground.
He saw that some adult was walking toward them
across the park from the baseball diamond,
so he waited til the adult go there,
and then got off the big kid and let him go.

The next day, in class (it was eighth grade),
the Sister (it was a Catholic elementary school,
Sisters of Charity)
called him up to sit at her desk
and conduct the Spelling lesson
while she stepped out for a moment.

These nuns were usually surprisingly well-informed
regarding what was going on with their students
outside of the classroom.
Maybe the gossip went from the kids to their parents
and then from the parents to the Sisters.
She returned to the classroom
after a few minutes,
and when she opened the door to enter,
she exclaimed something like,
"Oh my ! Look at the little king in the big chair !"
He sort of sensed that it was an honor
that she had put him in charge of the class for a while,
but he blushed with embarassment
because she had to go and point out how small he was.
I mean, half the class was girls !
And a lot of them were, like, Total Babes !

It wasn't always victories, though.
One time (again same grade, same class)
he was walking to school in the morning
with his friend who was
the biggest and strongest kid in the eighth grade.
They were horsing around
and his friend went to grab his ankle
and caught the cuff of his pants
which ripped all the way up the seam to the crotch.
He was pissed and had to walk right home
and change his pants.
As soon as he got home,
his mother called from work.
He wondered how his mother knew
that he was home.
He explained what had happened
and that he was changing his pants.
His mother was furious
and insisted that he tell the Sister what had happened.
He said that it wasn't a big deal,
wasn't a fight, just an accident,
and he pleaded with her not to have to tell the Sister.
She insisted. It was a command, an order.
He didn't want to tell on his friend.
When he got to class late
the Sister asked what happened.
He didn't want to tell
but he was afraid to disobey his mother,
so he blurted out, "so and so did it",
and started to cry.
He cried because he was afraid of his mother,
not that he was afraid of his friend.
But he was totally humiliated that he cried.

Sounds Like His Mother Was Horrible !
Well, maybe she was in ways,
but that had little to do with this situation.

What Do You Mean ?
Well, we're not going to bash
our graduate student's mother unfairly.
This is all about The 1982 Newsletters
and liberal fascism
and what's happened to our graduate student's life and career
as a result of it all.
We're going into his background
to disarm all that unfair criticism
that he was just a backward racist redneck
or from an Archie Bunker family or something.
The real issue here is that maybe
women should stop raising boys
when they get to a certain age
and let them be raised by men.
If it was our graduate student's father
or some other man who was notified
that he was returning home with ripped pants,
when he found out that it was
the result of horseplay,
he would have said,
"Oh ok, hurry and change and get to school. It's late."
If the boy were then asked by the Sister
why he was late,
he would have responded,
"nothin. just ripped my pants and had to change."

Yes, But Still,
You Did Say Our Graduate Student's Mother
Killed His Father, Didn't You ?
Yes, that's right.

Well, Duh, That's Kind Of Significant.
Spill It. Let's Hear It.
All Right. It All Went Down Like This.
Our graduate student's a few months
from graduating from UC Davis
when his sister comes up from Berkeley where she lived,
"Daddy's in the hospital."
It sounded serious.
"Here's the number. Call and find out."
He did. Their father was dead.
He flew back to the funeral
(She didn't. She was ostracized).
Everyone was sooooooo amazed.
It was sooooooo sudden.

"Never was sick a day in his life."

"It was sooooooo sudden.
He just got up from dinner
and drove himself to the hospital
and was dead a day or two later."

"He seemed fine."

"My! My! Isn't that something !"

"Yeah, he seemed perfectly healthy.
Didn't say anything to Rose (his wife).
Just got up from dinner
and drove himself to the hospital
without saying anything,
and was dead in a day or two."

"My! My! Isn't that something !"

In retrospect, it sounds like dialogue
right out of "Desperate Housewive's" Wisteria Lane.

Well, our graduate student was just
a distraught young man of 28 years.
He had loved his father,
a kind and gentle man
who never raised a hand to them, never even raised his voice to them,
played baseball with him,
took him to a Yankees game.
Did his duty as a parent.
An accountant at AT&T for 48 years.
Accepted that his wife was his "cross to bear" in life.
His sister loved their father, too,
but the others didn't.
He knelt before his father's coffin in the church,
eyes wet,
said a tender, loving, and respectful goodbye.
But nobody else did.
Regretted that they hadn't been closer.
Always thought he'd always be there.
Met one of his father's two brothers for the first time,
even though they had lived only a few blocks away.
His mother had kept them out of his life completely.
Thought he was a nice man,
not the awful person his mother ranted about repeatedly
in her tirades and tantrums.

So, then, our graduate student,
brilliant, society changing, history making
genius that he is,
knew right away
that his mother
murdered his father ?
OH, FUCK YOU !

sorry, my bad.
You're God Damned Right It's Your Bad,
You  Fucking Asshole !
You Think I Ain't Fed Fucking Up
With Shitheads, Punks and Morons Like You
Makin' A Joke Of Me And The Truth I Have To Say !?
If You Don't Wanna Hear The Truth,
Then Go Tell Yourself A Fuckin' Story
Up Your Motherfuckin' Asshole, Shithead !
I Have God As My Witness To The Truth I Tell.
I Don't Need You
And The Rest Of The Fucking Morons Like You !
And Believe Me,
There's Way Too Many Like You !

I'm Sorry. Please Continue.
All Right.
Even though the dialogue
he heard at the funeral
was right out of Wisteria Lane
or a paperback murder novel,
the thought never even occurred to our graduate student
that his mother might have murdered his father.
It was unthinkable,
and he just didn't think it.

It wasn't until about two decades later
when it all fell into place in his mind.
All the things his mother had said,
the way his oldest brother had acted,
how the doctor had treated him
so rudely and curtly on the phone
that day his sister asked him to call,
everything -
it all made sense
when you conclude that she poisoned him.
It didn't make sense any other way.

The next time he talked to his sister
on the phone, he let her babble on manically
as she always did.
Then he interrupted and abruptly changed the subject,
"Do you think mother killed Daddy ?" he asked.

"YES !"

was her instant, unhesitant, emphatic reply.
What a relief it must have been to her, finally,
to know that she was not all alone
in her understanding of the truth.
She had known right away.

What Were Some Of These Comments
That His Mother Had Made
And These Other Things You Talk About ?
Well, our graduate student
was quite surprised
that the doctor was so very rude to him
when he called to inquire
about his father's condition
that day his sister gave him the number
and asked him to call.
There seemed to be no explanation for it at the time.
"Why would he be so rude to me ?"
wondered our graduate student,
"That kind of behavior would be contra-indicated
when dealing with a bereaved child."

Then there was one particular thing
that his mother had said
and the way she had said it,
that always stuck in his memory.
It seemed unnecessary, unnatural, odd.
It didn't seem to fit.
It sounded like he was covering her ass, legally.

What Was That ?
Well, it wasn't just what she said.
It was also how she said it.
It just seemed odd,
and so he always remembered it.
Call it intuition, if you will,
or Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink" theory,
or blame it on our graduate student's
active and curious mind
that just isn't satisfied when things don't sound right.

After the funeral,
in her apartment,
when the topic was the suddenness of his father's death,
she declared
in her regal manner of speaking
(which meant that what she was saying
was not to be questioned),

"Awhen I aspoke ato the adoctor
in the ahospital
he alooked at ame and asaid,
'aYou aknow and ahI aknow
athat he adrank atoo amuchuh !'"

What Was The Purported Cause Of Death ?
hepatitis

And Why Do You Doubt That ?
I'm not a medical expert,
and I don't play one on tv, either,
but I never heard of anyone
dying overnight,
suddenly,
immediately,
from hepatitis,
without any symptoms whatsoever,
when they appeared to everyone
to be quite healthy and fine
up to the point of eating dinner
and checking themself into the hospital.

I See Your Point.
And why do you think
he got up from the table
and drove himself to the hospital
without saying anything to his wife
who had just fed him, like,
"I don't feel well, Rose,
I'm going to the hospital" ?

Why ?
Because he knew she poisoned him,
you fucking moron !
And he knew that she knew,
obviously,
because she's the one who did it !

Oh
Yeah, "Oh"
Sorry.
That's all right.
I know how you feel.
It's much more comfortable
to believe that no murder was committed,
that he died of natural causes.
That's probably why it took me so long
to put all the pieces together.

So do you think the doctor
actually said that to her
or do you think she made it up ?
It doesn't really matter.
He probably said it.
Put the picture together.
This man drives to the hospital
and says that he thinks
his wife poisoned him.
They bungle it and let him die.
Or, maybe they don't bungle it.
Maybe she killed him real good
and they couldn't save him.
Then this nice little
65 year old woman
comes to the hospital,
well dressed, well spoken,
good looking for her age,
shaking like a leaf in the wind.
She's terrified.
She always wanted to kill him.
Now she actually did it.
She can't believe it.
"What have I done ?
I've killed my husband !
That's a mortal sin !
I'm going to burn in Hell for Eternity !
I've committed murder !
I'll be in prison for the rest of my life !
God help me !"
The doctor knows what's up.
The man told him his wife poisoned him.
Then he dies.
Then she comes in shaking and terrified.
She's not weeping and wailing,
mourning at the deathbed of her husband of 45 years.
She's shaking from terror.
She just committed murder
and she's gonna get caught, she thinks.
The doctor sees it all as plain as day.
"Oh Shit !
I got a fucking murder on my hands !
And I let him die !"
He looks at the little old lady
and sizes up the situation.
She's smart and strong.
She had mentioned his drinking,
tossing out an excuse.
He'll run with it, he decides.
Who the fuck needs a murder case?
He's already dead anyway.
Maybe I should have saved him.
By this time,
maybe the oldest son, Bobby,
has been called in.
He's always on her side,
smart and tough too,
and didn't care a hoot for his father.
Or maybe not.
Maybe it all went down before he got there.
It doesn't matter.
Doctor doesn't wanna have no murder inquisition
when maybe he should have saved the guy.
Fuck no !
Looks at the nice little old lady
who's shaking in terror,
"Hepatitis. He died of hepatitis."
Locks eyes with her,
"You know as well as I know,
that HE DRANK TOO MUCH."
He did, actually.
Drank a lot of beer.
Who wouldn't drink if they were married to her ?
Their eyes lock hard.
"That's it then. Got it ?
Drank too much. Hepatitis.
Got it ? You with me on that ??
Solid !",
the message silently spoken through their eyes.

So, who knows whether he said it or not ?
Knowing her, my intuition tells me he probably did.
Now she's in her apartment
and the funeral's over.
Nobody's accused her of anything
or even hinted about it.
Looks like she's getting away with it.
What a relief !
"Let's lock it in and prevent speculation,"
she thinks.
So she makes her regal pronunciation,

"Awhen I aspoke ato the adoctor
in the hospital
he alooked at me and asaid,
'aYou aknow and ahI aknow
athat he adrank atoo amuchuh !"

Husband's in the ground.
Doctor's coverin' for her.
Oldest son's got her back
(He sure doesn't want any damn
murder inquisition either.
And what the hell does he care,
if the old man's dead ?
good riddance !).
Startin' to look like clear sailing !
Thirty years of AT&T pension coming up !

She later told our graduate student
how she had convinced his father
to put her name on his pension.
"I told him, 'If you don't put my name
on your pension, I won't put your name on mine.'"

It was lots of little stuff like that
that played deep in the mind
of our graduate student
until it all fell into place.

Like the way she went
from being so upset
to being so relieved.
She was happy and living it up real soon.
Her emotional states
were much more consistent
with her being a murderer
who realized she was getting away with it
than with those of a bereaved and mourning widow.

Our Graduate Student got there a couple of days after the death
and he heard the excuse that had been concocted
for why his mother was so worried.
"She was very, very worried because she was afraid
that daddy had left everything to Bernadette (the daughter),"
Bobby said.  Barely two days after his death
they had already found and read the will and the pension?

Our Graduate Student had insights into
his mother's thoughts and attitudes as well.
Several years earlier she'd commented on
a friend of her cousin's husband.  Eddie.
"He'd kill ya just to show you who's boss," she said.
But it seemed like she was projecting her way of thinking.
Sounded like the way she thought.
Tough.  Took one to know one.
She'd show ya who was boss.

On that later visit a few months later that summer,
she was already back to berating her dead husband.
"He never WAS a fighter," she complained.
She was criticizing him for dying,
instead of fighting to live.
She murdered him.
Then she blamed him for dying.
How's that for chutzpah?
(So now you can see why it was so easy for Our Graduate Student
to see right through
the bullshit and chutzpah of the FAKE liberals
over the past 40 years.)

These are all just the little details
that only make sense
when we conclude that it was murder.

The main points are
1.  That no one dies from hepatitis overnight
when they're perfectly healthy,
2.  she always hated him
and always wanted him out of her life,
3.  and she was motivated to
get his comfortable pension.
4.  They had just, only a few months before,
moved from a 4-story home on it's own lot
with 6 bedrooms, a detached garage,
and front and back yards
to a small, 2-bedroom apartment.
Now, they couldn't get away from each other,
24 hours a day,
whereas a couple of months earlier
they had lived on different floors
with plenty of room to roam.
He'd just moved from his childhood neighborhood,
where he'd lived all his life,
and didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do.
5.  She killed him within a couple of days of his return
from a month visit with the middle son in California.
He had been helping him establish a tax business
(he was an accountant, remember)
and she was jealous because their 3 California children
enjoyed his visits but couldn't tolerate hers.
6.  She loved the Jersey Shore and Spring Lake.
It was HER dream to live there, not his.
She envied Reilly, her schoolteacher friend
whose fireman husband died and left her a big pension
so she should live in a luxury high rise apartment
with a view of the New York City skyline.
Our Graduate Student's mother's dream
was to live high on pension in Spring Lake.

I See.
I Must Admit That's Very Convincing.
Our Graduate Student's Mother
Got Away With Murder.
She Murdered His Father !
That's Right.

What Was It About The Behavior
Of The Oldest Brother
That Is Consistent With The Murder Conclusion ?
Oh, nothing conclusive.
It's just that his behavior fits in quite well.
His behavior is consistent with
him knowing that she murdered her husband
and him covering up for her.

Explain A Little,
If You Will,
And Then Let's Move On.
We've Spent A Lot Of Time On This
And We've Hardly Begun.
It IS Very Important Though.
Yes, I Agree about both things.
Well, anyway,
Bobby, the oldest child, ten years
older than our graduate student,
shared a room with our graduate student
that night or two of the funeral and wake.

Bobby and the other brother
had been feuding for over a decade
(maybe we'll get into that later,
and maybe not).
For our graduate student,
like for most people, I suppose,
a funeral, though a sad event,
can also be a time for family reunion,
a time to meet again
with family members
not seen for years.

When our graduate student
tried to chat with his oldest brother
at night as they lay in their separate beds,
he was a little taken aback
by his brother's
seeming hostility and angry mood.

"It's O V E R.
It's FINALLY O V E R,"
he said dramatically,
with great emphasis on the word "over".
(he was his mother's son, too).
What he meant was
that the endless "lockhorns"
battle between mother and father
was FINALLY over
now that the father was six feet under,
and our graduate student understood
that that's what he meant.
"And if SHE dropped dead tomorrow,
I could care less...
and if you tell her I said that,
I'll tell her you lied."

It wasn't that bad between them really.
Our graduate student visited him
at his home near Chicago
a few months later,
and he was quite warm and cordial.

It's just that his mood and behavior
those few days of the funeral
were consistent with those
of an eldest son
covering up his mother's murder of his father.
He was wound up tighter than a clock
and tense as hell, it seemed in retrospect.

He KNEW that his mother poisoned his father
and he hushed it up
for reasons similar to the doctor's reasons.
That is, "Who Needs The Fuckin' Trouble ?
He's Gone. Nothin' We Can Do About It Anyway.
And Who Cares ?
Don't Need To Be Visitin' My Mother In Prison
For The Next Couple Of Decades.
Better To Have Her Livin' Comfy
On Some Nice Pensions And Social Security."

Why Would She Murder Her Husband THEN,
At That Particular Time ?
Talk about the retirements
and the recent move from
a large 5-bedroom, 4-story house
to a small 2-bedroom aparment on one floor.
It was a culture shock of sorts.
Now he was always right there.
In the house, they had floors to separate them.
Also, talk about dad's trips to california
visiting me and mark.

So that's it.
I didn't expect to get so long into that.
I guess it's been botherin' us deep for a long time.
Our graduate student's mother just died
seven months ago.
Maybe our graduate student, too,
was keeping it hushed up
since he figured it all out.
Why cause trouble ?
Wait 'til she dies.
She's dead now.

Let's move on.

All Right

Note. Insert in this piece some more reasons
concern WHY she killed him AT THAT TIME.
She just retired, they just moved
to HER dream, the shore Spring Lake specifically.
Also, daddy had just come from a pleasant visit to mark.
Mother was jealous.
They had just moved from a HUGE house
to a small apartment and she couldn't STAND
living that close to him.

OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.