So, Ronald Reagan has died...

...and we're about to be hit with a overly generous eulogies from a lot of people who should know better. The thing is, while the same phenomenon infuriated me a the time of Richard Nixon's death, I just can't gin up the same level of animus over the inevitable historical revisions that will follow Reagan to his grave.

Part of it, I suppose, is that he's lived so long silenced by illness, an unhappy fate for the man once known as the "Great Communicator," a man who so clearly relished an audience. Part of it is that whatever regrets I have regarding his Presidency, I always imagined him to be a nice enough fellow if separated from his politics. I used to reflect that while a day with Reagan in the White House was a national tragedy, an afternoon spent with him on the ranch, basking in the close attention of Nancy (who would doubtless have been close enough to his elbow to insure that every whim of Ronnie and his guest would be satisfied unspoken) and listening to him spin tales of the golden age of Hollywood might well have been an undiluted joy.

I didn't know Ronald Reagan, so I don't have any particular grounds to mourn him, but I hope his passing provides some relief to his survivors, and if whitewashing his political flaws over the next few days offers them some solace as well, I can't bring myself to begrudge them that.