Monday, March 28, 2011


Elizabeth Taylor passed away last week at the age of 79, and the American film industry surely lost one of its icons.

What I found a little disturbing is that Fox News referred to Ms. Taylor's marriages to Richurd Burton as one of the "greatest love stories of all time."

It saddens me that the expectations for the sacrament of marriage in America have sunk so low that this would be celebrated.

Elizabeth Taylor was married eight times to seven different husbands. She was married to Burton twice, for a combined period of ten years.

I understand that marriages fail for many reasons, and I am not writing this to condemn divorced couples. We should at least try to remember that marriage is a sacrament and is supposed to last until "death do us part," not until you have an affair with the next person who catches your eye.

The greatest love story of all time? Really?

If we use Elizabeth Taylor's love life as a criteria, isn't the greatest love story of all time Bill and Hilary?

He certainly had more sex with different partners during his administration than any other president, not to mention providing ideas for all sorts of new uses for cigars. And they're still together today.

My parents have been married for what is closing in on sixty years.

Which makes my oldest brother close to sixty, a fact I want to point out because if he reads this I get an extra dig in.

Their marriage has endured eleven presidential administrations (well, ten and the Clinton brothel), a plethora of miliatry actions, a handful of recessions, financial struggles, and most importantly fifty years of having to put up with ME!

Isn't a story like that a better candidate for the greatest love story of all time?


    I'm casting my vote for "Greatest Love Story Of All Time" to your love affair with Pop music.

    That one's tough to beat.

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  2. Keep in mind, Stephen that my parents actually had to put up with me IN THEIR HOUSE for twenty years. And for another fifteen, I was within "pop-in" range.

    I know you don't believe in saints, but if you did, I think you'd be nominating them both after enduring that...

  3. I DO believe in saints (and angels too!). But think of all the bad Pop albums YOU have had to endure during your love affair with Pop music.

    Sorry, Bro, but my vote still goes to YOU.

    Heck, I'm not even sure my second vote would go to your parents - although they are no doubt high in the running. Consider, dude, that MY parents also stayed together until death did them part... and THEY had to put up with my brother Nappy! Trust me, Bro, you must have seemed like a saint compared to my brother Nappy! (I was always "the good son", and I've always thought that my parents should have drowned Nappy when he was a puppy!)

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  4. I'm thinking you're underestimating my propensity to cause trouble and be a pain in the ass.

    Based on stories we've swapped, I think Mrs. Cavanaugh would consider Nappy a cakewalk.

    Heck, I totalled my first truck in kindergerten (that was a real truck, not a Tonka), and it was all downhill from there...

    But it would have been funny to hear our mothers swapping stories...

  5. >>.....Based on stories we've swapped, I think Mrs. Cavanaugh would consider Nappy a cakewalk.

    Unless Mrs. Cavanaugh ever attempted to beat you to death with YOUR OWN CRUTCH while your leg was in a cast... FUHGEDDABOUDIT!

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  6. Nappy may have been a bad seed but I was a bad tree...

    Do me a favor, though-stop using "fuhgeddaboudit." Without any Italian in ya, youze just don't say it right, and it make my ears hurt.

    In fact when ya types it, it makes my eyes hurt.


  7. I didn't know "fuhgeddaboudit" had anything to do with Italians. I was under the impression that it was mostly "a Brooklyn thang". Whether Italian-Brooklyn, or Jewish-Brooklyn, British-Brooklyn, or just plain ol' Brooklyn-Brooklyn.

    And by the way... about me ceasing to use it?

    ~ D-FensDogg
    'Loyal American Underground'

  8. Well, your impression is wrong. It's definitely an Italian word...and you don't know how to say.

    And by da way...Mrs C. says (from her wheelchair) and I quote, "Bring it, Nappy!"

    Never mess with an Italian mother...