I served in Vietnam as a tactical sushi chef. I delivered hand rolls and mounds of sea urchin on rice to front line troops and, accompanied by a Motown karoake tape, serenaded them with Japanese love songs. Once, while I was slicing fatty tuna during a mortar attack, a shell struck my Marine-issued boombox, throwing off my rhythm and causing me severe emotional and musical distress.
Shouldn’t that qualify me for burial in Arlington National Cemetery?
This week’s coveted Pinocchio award for political prevarication goes to late Ambassador to Switzerland M. Larry Lawrence, whose nose may still be growing posthumously. Official Washington has its knickers in a Virginia twist because it appears he lied to the government.
A search of military files shows the late ambassador did not, as he claimed, serve in the merchant marines during World War II. He will therefore be hauled from his Arlington grave and flown to California for reburial just in time to be swept into the sea by the floods of El Nino.
Janet Reno investigated the reburial and found no reason to appoint a special gravedigger. She said the Justice Department could handle the matter itself because it became expert at burial as it investigated White House fundraising.
Lying to the government is, of course, a hoary and honorable tradition, except most of us save our fibs for the IRS. Senators, congressmen and even some actual humans in the government are shocked that Lawrence lied about his accomplishments. It seems to me that a politician complaining about lying is like a bird railing against air.
Lying is a natural human instinct — just ask anyone who has been asked to comment on the attractiveness of a newborn baby or a bride.
I not only don’t mind lying, under many circumstances I prefer it. At the conclusion of an intimate encounter, truth is not what I desire; give me ritual adulation or give me death.
Ex-congressman Mel Reynolds testified in court that he made sexually explicit phone calls to a teenage girl because he thought that would help solve her psychological problems. Couldn’t he come up with a better one than that? Something like, “I was just helping her with her homework for Talkin’ Dirty 101.” To be acceptable to me, a lie need not be credible, merely entertaining.
If I want truth, I’ll call Dr. Laura.
Even if Lawrence did not serve in the merchant marines, it remains unclear to me that he lied about his record. He might have been mistaken. Lawrence might have taken a boat cruise on the lovely Lake Geneve, and after a night of chocolate, liquor and Swatch watches might have mistaken the cruise boat for a merchant marine ship struck by German fire. He’s a rich guy — maybe he belly-flopped into a pool and the shock reminded him of being thrown overboard in the north Atlantic … It could happen!
Nonetheless, Mr. Lawrence is now heading back to California where he will finally rest in peace having served his country — not only his president but his president’s opponents.
