Love in the Time of Smallpox

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John & Abigail's inoculation letters, and my own modern love.

Smallpox ravaged the world from 10,000 BC up until 1979. In the 20th century alone, it killed between 300 – 500 million people. I have trouble putting numbers that big in perspective, so I created this helpful chart.

That should clear things up.

250 years ago, smallpox was also responsible for the first of many separations between John and Abigail Adams. An epidemic in April 1764 forced them to postpone their wedding while John got inoculated. Their letters during this time provide fascinating insights into both the inoculation process and their unique relationship. In their intimate lines I found glimpses of myself and my own spirited wife, Jess, and the foundations of our relationship.

Inoculation back then meant at least three weeks of quarantine while suffering through a mild version of the virus to build a lifelong immunity. One percent of patients didn’t survive the process. For weeks leading up to the inoculation John was put on a strict diet – no meat, milk, or butter. He ignored this advice. Right before the procedure he drank an ipecac to cleanse his system. I’m guessing “ipecac” is an onomatopoeia named for the sound you make when your guts violently evacuate through your throat. 

Compared to the prep, the inoculation procedure itself was fairly painless and about as sophisticated as growing a flower. A deadly flower. The doctor cut a small slice in John’s left arm, deposited an infected thread in the wound, and put a bandage on it. They basically planted smallpox in John Adams and waited for the pustules to sprout. 

That waiting period produced more correspondence between John and Abigail than ever before, which is impressive since it wasn’t easy getting letters through his quarantine. To protect her from the virus, John had to “smoke” each letter before sending and Abigail’s family’s slave, Tom did the same on her end. She described her excitement when receiving a letter from John by asking him:

“Did you never rob a Birds nest? Do you remember how the poor Bird would fly round and round, fearful to come nigh, yet not know how to leave the place – just so they say I hover round for Tom whilst he is smokeing my Letters.”

This speaks to her love, impatience, and penchant for bird torture.

Smoking your mail was the 18th century version of Norton Antivirus.

Their letters almost came to a stop when John’s doctors forbade him from writing, encouraging him instead to stick to amusements like checkers and cards. That didn’t make sense to Abigail any more than it would to my wife, who has anxiety dreams about exactly this sort of scenario where some authoritarian force is keeping us apart – usually at a shopping mall. My love sleeps with furrowed brow. If, God forbid, a real-life doctor told me I couldn’t communicate with her, she’d probably sneak herself into the sick house and take her chances. 

Instead of infiltrating his quarantine, Abigail fought this injustice with humor. She supposed “it may be those who forbid you cannot conceive that writing to a Lady is any amusement, perhaps they rank it under the Head of drudgery, and hard Labour.” She followed with a subtle trap: “However all I insist upon is that you follow that amusement which is most agreeable to you whether it be Cards, Chequers, Musick, Writing, or Romping.” So he should only write to her if he enjoys it. In 250 years, not much about the female language has changed. It still must be decoded.

John kept writing. And, I can only hope, romping.

They teased each other often, which led to John sending Abigail a helpful list of all her faults. Most were playful and actually compliments – she doesn’t play enough cards and has bad habits of reading, writing, and thinking – but he took the opportunity to let loose with real problem areas too. 

“You could never yet be prevail’d on to learn to sing… you very often hang your Head like a Bulrush, you do not sit erected as you ought…another Fault, which seems to have been obstinately persisted in, after frequent Remonstrances, Advices and Admonitions of your Friends, is that of sitting with the Leggs across.” 

So she can’t sing and she’s an utter failure at sitting. What about walking? 

“A sixth Imperfection is that of Walking,” he told her, “with the Toes bending inward. This Imperfection is commonly called Parrot-toed, I think, I know not for what Reason.” One of John’s imperfections is commonly called being a dick, I think, I know not for what reason. 

Regarding her scandalous leg-crossing, Abigail shut him down with, “I think a gentleman has no business to concern himself about the Leggs of a lady." She also said he shouldn't complain about her lack of singing because she had “a voice harsh as the screech of a peacock.” An interesting choice for a comparison since peacocks are known for their outstanding beauty and not their voice. Well played, Abby.

Everything comes back to birds for her – she hovers like them, screeches like them, and does a shit job walking like them.

She leveled her own criticism on Adams too, telling him he was intimidating and it was “impossible for a Stranger to be tranquil in your presence.” She felt at greater ease expressing her feelings in letters than she did in person.

That struck a nerve in me, as I too have been called intimidating. I'm not sure why. It could be that my default facial expression lacks humanity and seems to say "Get out of my way, I gotta crap." I can't help it, and it's less creepy than my forced smile which suggests I'm relieving myself right then. I also have trouble judging the distance between things, namely my body and people in the way of where I'm going. It's best to keep me away from children and the elderly at airports and supermarkets.

Also, I have a tendency to lace my strong opinions with condescending humor aimed at whoever dares to disagree with me, and I do it loudly so they can't hear their own wrong thoughts. These are things I'm working on – as I plod through the presidents, so too do I plod through self-improvement. But that could be why Jess, like Abigail, felt it was easier to be open with me in writing...especially when it came to one of the most important things she ever asked me.

Late on the night of June 8, 2010, after two years of platonic friendship, she used our favorite form of written communication, instant message, to ask me out.

If she had seen my face then, she wouldn’t have been intimidated. I was on a giddy high, trying to play it cool while being absolutely certain I understood her feelings before putting my own on the line. The tricky thing about writing, as John Adams knows, is that it can forever preserve the moments when you're kind of an ass.

I'm sure it's crossed my mind?! It's a miracle she stuck with me through this conversation, let alone matrimony.

I promise I was a better human being in the rest of our chat. Eventually. It's bizarre for me to look back at those words and not see the affection so ingrained in our relationship now.

John and Abigail's affection for each other was always evident, despite their teasing. He called her “Miss Adorable” and “Diana” after the goddess of the moon and she called him “Lysander” after the Spartan war hero. Their early letters show a playful tenderness that set the foundation for a lifelong love.

Miss Adorable wasn’t shy about letting her intimidating Spartan know how to behave, but she was crafty. As his quarantine drew to a close, she wrote about an unemotional reunion she just witnessed between a couple who barely said “how do ye” and smiled at each other. “I was affected with it,” she said, “and thought whether Lysander, under like circumstances could thus coldly meet his Diana, and whether Diana could with no more Emotion receive Lysander. What think you?”

In other words, she was hoping for a passionate display of emotion after their separation. Can’t wait to see you soon, babe! Don’t fuck it up. 

Nearly two years after our fateful online chat, Jess had similar fears about our wedding kiss. I guess because I didn’t usually kiss her passionately in front of other people like some kind of depraved exhibitionist, she feared our nuptials would be sealed with a peck on the cheek and a high five. Looking back, it's possible my coy coldness in our relationship-initiating chat caused this complex of hers, but her fears turned out to be unfounded. Our actual wedding kiss was perfect, and the practice runs she required were pleasurable too. 

Sometimes I wish we wrote long expressive letters like the Adamses did, but then I realize they only wrote so much because of their long frequent separations. I couldn't imagine any prolonged separation from the passionate force of nature that is my own Miss Adorable. And we do actually write to each other often in our own modern correspondence:

John survived his inoculation with flying colors. The worst parts for him were “a long and total Abstinence from every Thing in Nature that has any Taste, Two heavy Vomits, one heavy Cathartick, four and twenty Mercurial and Antimonial Pills, and Three Weeks close Confinement to an House.” 

He was much luckier than those who got the disease in the “natural way” like a man he described to Abigail. “They say he is no more like a Man than he is like an Hog or an Horse – swelled to three time his size, black as bacon, blind as a stone.” It makes me feel very fortunate to be born into a world where this disease is eradicated and bacon is not burned beyond recognition. 

Smallpox may be gone, but many potentially life-threatening diseases are not, and John Adams would have no kind words for modern parents who choose not to vaccinate their children. Even with the risks back then, he was upset with Abigail’s parents for not letting her get inoculated, saying, “Parents must be lost in Avarice or Blindness, who restraint their Children” from inoculation. 

Today there is no chance of a smallpox resurgence as the disease exists in only two of the most peaceful places on Earth – a federal facility in Atlanta and a research facility in Russia. So we’re totally safe.

Just in case, it couldn’t hurt to drop a line to those you love while you have the chance. Don't wait for a quarantine to tell them how you feel – even if they’re overcritical asses or graceless birds who think too much and suck at sitting.

Rare photo of the Jess-Bird in flight, 2013.

Sources: John Adams by David McCullough, Abigail Adams by Woody Holton, masshist.org 
Top Images: Abigail Adams and John Adams by Benjamin Blyth

 

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John Adams vs. George Washington: The Beer Test

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Who would make a better drinking buddy?

George Washington could have kept on presidentin' forever if he wanted – he was extremely popular and there were no term limits yet to stop him. Instead he chose to bow out after two terms, leaving Americans with a very different character at the helm. I think I know how they felt.

When Shelley Long left Cheers after five incredible years, I was devastated. I felt betrayed, confused, and worried for my future. I was heartbroken at six years old.

This picture is to analogies as Cheers is to television shows.

I eventually warmed to Kirstie Alley, but Rebecca Howe was no Diane Chambers. And according to every historical ranking ever, John Adams was no George Washington. I'm no historical ranker (though I hold no historical rancor for those who are) so when I compare America's first two executives, it's on my own terms. 

I'm pitting Washington and Adams against each other in eight wildly different categories. I'm less interested in objective evaluations of who was the "better president" and more interested in answering one highly subjective question - who would I rather have beers with at Cheers?

Category #1: Brute Strength

I've never been to Boston, but every non-Cheers depiction of it tells me there's a 100% chance my peaceful drinks would be interrupted by a wicked awesome bar brawl, probably with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. If that's the case, I want to be with someone who can hold their own.

Washington was a majestic 6'2" tall. Adjusting for inflation, that's like nine feet today. Nine feet of stoic elegance demanding respect. Adams was about 5'7" and portly, with a round Charlie Brown head.

Winner: I love Charlie Brown and I personally identify more with Adams's body type, but I have to give this one to Washington. He could take on Affleck, Damon, and the entire Boston Red Sox with his sheer Washingtonian might. 

Category #2: Past Experience

The best stories shared over drinks are the ones you lived firsthand. Which man would have not only the best stories, but ones I'd want to hear? That all depends on their experiences.

Before becoming president, Washington was a surveyor and a planter who moonlighted as a super famous legendary war hero. Adams wished for the glory of a soldier. When he watched Washington go off to lead the Continental Army, he wrote, “I, poor creature, worn out with scribbling for my bread and my liberty, low in spirits and weak in health, must leave others to wear the laurels.”

But let's be clear. Adams's "scribbling" was nothing to scoff at. He helped write the Declaration of Independence and most of the Massachusetts Constitution that served as a model for the national one. As a foreign diplomat he was dining at Versailles while Washington was embroiled in battle, but both efforts were essential to winning the war.

On my honeymoon, my wife and I had a great time visiting Versailles, touring the palace and renting a golf cart that automatically shut down when we went beyond the designated area. But when John Adams visited Versailles, he got to dine with Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. He called her "an object too sublime and beautiful for my dull pen to describe." That makes me want to be there. I bet I could be really good at eating at the Court of Versailles if I practiced.

Sadly, John Adams never got to take golf cart rear view selfies at Versailles.

Adams would have fascinating stories to tell about his time in Europe, but the truth is those stories would just make me jealous. Washington, on the other hand, would have firsthand accounts of bloody battles, the ravages of war, and unforgiving wilderness filled with danger. 

Winner: I would love to hear Washington's tales for the same reason I enjoy Law & Order: Special Victims Unit but don't want to live it. For enthralling me without making me jealous, Washington takes this round.

Category #3: Conversational Skills

Having fascinating experiences doesn't matter much if you can't put them into words. I want to drink beers and break bread(ed jalapeno poppers) with someone who can keep up their end of the conversation.

Adams was such a gifted speaker that it’s almost unfair to compare these two on their ability to talk. It’s like on Jeopardy when a contestant is introduced with “Tim is a marine biologist from Miami” and one of the categories is “Manatees in Florida.” Or “Janelle is a dried flower expert from Peoria” and somehow there's a category of “Potpourri."

I'll take "Unfair Advantage" for 800, Alex.

According to David McCullough, “Once, to give a client time to retrieve a necessary record, Adams spoke for five hours, through which the court and jury sat with perfect patience. At the end he was roundly applauded because, as he related the story, he had spoken ‘in favor of justice.’” More likely they applauded because he was finally done talking. Five hours?! If justice takes that long, I might lean toward the side in favor of corruption if they kept their soliloquies under twenty minutes.

The point is, Adams had a gift for rousing people with his words. He was extremely well-read and could speak extemporaneously ad nauseam. Washington was the opposite, famous for being a man of few words. McCullough wrote that Adams himself “wished he talked less, and he had a particular regard for those, like General Washington, who somehow managed great reserve under almost any circumstance.”

Winner: For captivating captive audiences – and having the self-awareness to realize he talked too much – I'm going with Adams.

Category #4: Popularity

Popularity doesn't matter. That's what unpopular kids are told to make them feel better. In politics, popularity is everything. It's also a factor in deciding who I'd rather have drinks with. If someone is well-regarded, they might be better company. If someone is universally hated, they could make any beer taste bitter.

When it comes to popularity, it’s hard to compete with a demigod. Washington was the only president unanimously elected by electors, and perhaps the only man popular enough to convince America to ratify The Constitution. Even today, he's an essential part of our daily tasks. It's hard to do laundry, park your car, or poorly compensate a stripper without sticking George Washington's face in something.

Adams was a more divisive figure, entrenched in a time when political parties first took their foothold in American politics. In America’s first fifty years, only two presidents served a single term – John Adams, and his son.

Their nicknames were another good indicator of their popularity. George Washington was called “the father of his country,” and “His Excellency.” Adams was derisively called “His Rotundity.” Even his honorable nickname “The Colossus of Independence” sounds like a fat joke.

Winner: Washington's enormous popularity had to go to his head, right? It's not like he was only honored after his death. His nation's capital was named after him while he was still president. How does your ego even handle that?

I think I'd prefer John Adams's quasi-popularity. He had no shortage of ego himself, but enough detractors to keep it in check.

Category #5: Family

Family matters. Wow. I literally just now realized the title of that 90s sitcom could be read as a phrase and a complete sentence. "We have to discuss these family matters, Harriet, because family matters." I...I need a minute.

Family does matter, except when it comes to ratings. Then neighbors matter way more.
You know what I'm talking about, Judy.

Okay I'm back. When it comes to choosing your friends and drinking buddies, their families can be a factor. For one, because they may come up in conversation and you'd hope they'd be interesting. But also because people are shaped by their families. So whose family most appeals to me? 

Martha Washington may have been a fine woman, but she destroyed her letters with George after his death, in effect destroying most evidence of her personality and their affection. We have hundreds of letters from Abigail Adams to prove what a remarkable, brilliant, forward-thinking woman she was and how devoted and in love she was with John. She kept him grounded, emotionally and financially. Thomas Jefferson said Adams was lucky to be “under the direction of Mrs. Adams, one of the most estimable characters on earth, and the most attentive and honorable economists.”  

Washington had no children of his own, and his one surviving stepson was a disappointment. John Adams had four children who survived into adulthood. Though his son Charles died of acute alcoholism, his son John Quincy went on to become the sixth president of the United States.

John Quincy Adams, 1843. The earliest surviving photograph of a president who looks like he stole Christmas.
Wikipedia Commons, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Upon becoming president, one of the greatest honors Adams ever received from Washington was a letter where Washington said, "If my wishes would be of any avail they should go to you in a strong hope that you will not withhold merited promotion for Mr. John [Quincy] Adams because he is your son.”

Winner: The Adams family takes this prize.

Category #6: Religiosity

Someone's religion wouldn't stop me from having a beer with them, unless it actually forbade the consumption of alcohol. That could put a damper on things. What could sway me is someone's beliefs on the role of religion in government.

Like the only boy who could ever reach Dusty Springfield, John Adams was the son of a preacher man. He didn’t subscribe to church beliefs about Jesus’s divinity and other miracles, but he lived a righteous life. Writing about his youth, Adams said that though he was "very fond of the society of females...they were all modest and virtuous girls and always maintained their character through life... My children may be assured that no illegitimate brother or sister exists or ever existed." Washington, as a young man, didn’t let his beliefs get in the way of gambling and wenching.

What troubles me is that unlike Washington, Adams wasn't sold on the separation of church and state. If that came up in conversation I'd have to steer us to a more agreeable topic, like what a jerk Alexander Hamilton was.

At Washington's inauguration, it is said he added the words "so help me God" at the end of his oath and kissed The Bible. Detailed firsthand accounts of his inauguration never mentioned that and it wasn't reported until nearly a hundred years later, so it probably never happened. Washington's actual religious beliefs were a personal mix of deism and Protestantism, and he didn't believe government should be involved in the matter.

Winner: Adams was religious enough that he preferred not to travel on the Sabbath. Washington would cross an icy river on Christmas to murder you. Washington takes the crown for his unpredictability.

Category #7: Views on Slavery

John Adams was vehemently against slavery, and well aware of the irony of fighting for freedom when hundreds of thousands of Americans were anything but free. 

George Washington used his slaves’ teeth to make his dentures. (And some hippo ivory, but still...)

Let's tell kids they're made of wood.

Winner: I think I'm gonna go with Adams on this one.

Category #8: Sense of Humor

This is my top factor in the beer test. After a certain number of beers, I give up on learning and 100% of my intelligence is directed toward making people laugh and laughing in return. I get along best with people on the same page.

George Washington may not have been on that page. During the Constitutional Convention, Alexander Hamilton bet Gouvenor Morris a dinner that he didn’t have the nerve to approach Washington, slap him on the back, and say, “My dear general, how happy I am to see you look so well!” Morris went through with it and won the dinner, but according to author Kenneth C. Davis, “Morris would later confess that the withering look he received made this the worst moment of his life.”

George Washington made Lilith look like Patch Adams.

Whether or not that’s true, it speaks to Washington’s reputation for being too formal and having no sense of humor. Adams could come off as pompous, but in close quarters he usually won people over quickly. He could talk with anybody about anything, and he loved a good joke. When opponents spread a lie that he sent Charles Pinckney to England to get three mistresses – two for Adams and one for Pinckney – Adams responded, “If this be true, General Pinckney has kept them all for himself and cheated me out of my two.”

Winner: Maybe Washington's formality was put on, a show of what he thought the dignified ruler of America should act like. Even so, I wouldn't want to take the chance that he wouldn't let his hair down for me.

John Adams had the intelligence of Frasier Crane, the obnoxiousness of Cliff Claven, the charm of Sam Malone, the humor of Norm Peterson, and the occasional out-of-touchness of bartenders Coach and Woody. Washington was a hero and a legend, but Adams would make a much better drinking buddy.

Final Tally

Washington gets points for beating up Ben Affleck, having a wealth of grisly experiences to relate, and not imposing his personal feelings about religion onto the government. That's 3 points to Washington.

Adams takes the cake in never letting there be a lull in conversation, not being too popular, having an impressive family, hating on slavery, and being able to take a joke. That's 5 points Adams. Let's just give views on slavery double points and make that an even 6 points to Adams!

John Adams wins this arbitrary match-up 6-3! Once we figure out the logistics behind time travel and entering a sitcom, he is entitled to meet me where everybody knows your name so we can enjoy some beers named after his cousin Sam.

Sources: John Adams by David McCullough, Don't Know Much About the American Presidents by Kenneth C. Davis, Washington: The Indispensable Man by James Thomas Flexner, Recarving Rushmore by Ivan Eland.

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10 Things George Washington Loved

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Today is George Washington's birthday, but it feels like my birthday because I just got the greatest present ever - a supercool George Washington G.I. Joe action figure.

Li'l George and I celebrated his birthday by illustrating ten things he loved.

#1

Part of what made George such a great leader was his ability to learn from his mistakes, like the time he accidentally started the French and Indian War. He reflected for years on his failures and never again started the French and Indian War.

#2

George Washington was the Michael Jordan of retiring, except he retired even more than Jordan. You just couldn’t keep Ol’ Wash away for long.

Washington very publicly "retired" from the public scene to spend the rest of his days as a planter. He did this after the French and Indian War...and the Revolutionary War...and then again after his presidency. But when President John Adams called on him to once again command the US forces against a brewing war with France, the 67-year-old Washington unretired again. He was waiting for the fancy new uniform he designed to arrive when he died.

#3

George was a man of few words. Maybe because he only had one remaining tooth when he became president and a mouthful of ill-fitting (but not wooden) dentures. It often hurt him to talk, so he put thought into everything he deemed worthy of saying. Lucky for him, he pulled off the strong silent type.

#4

During his frequent retirements, George loved living the life of a planter. He grew tobacco and wheat and experimented with different fertilizers like manure. He farmed over 3000 acres and ran the largest whiskey distillery in America, with the help of over 300 slaves. 

Unlike Adams and Jefferson, Washington never expressed a wish to abolish slavery. Unlike Jefferson, however, Washington freed his slaves after his death. He couldn’t legally free the ones Martha owned, but he stipulated their freedom upon her death. Not wanting to give them any ideas about speeding up her demise, she freed them herself.

#5

Washington loved the theatre, whether attending it in person or reading Shakespeare in his library. Congress banned the performance of plays during the Revolutionary War, but that didn't stop Washington. After a famously harsh winter at Valley Forge, he had his men put on a performance of his favorite play, Joseph Addison’s “Cato” about a Roman soldier going up against the tyrant OJ Simpson Julius Caesar.  

#6

Washington lost more battles than he won, but he was a ninja when it came to stealthy escapes. That's what made him famous in the deadly Battle of the Monongahela in the French and Indian War, and that's what saved his ass time and again in the Revolutionary War. In the fog, in the middle of the night, over hills…George Washington knew how to get out of a sticky situation.

#7

George was a voracious reader with an extensive library of more than 1200 books. Unlike other founding fathers, he didn’t have any formal secondary education. Books were his university and they provided him guidance on his military, political, and agricultural pursuits. It was particularly devastating to him when his stepson’s teacher reported that the boy “does not much like books.”

#8 

George loved dogs. Foxes, not so much. To create a superior dog for his beloved fox hunts, he imported French hounds to breed with Virginia hounds, in time creating the American foxhound. It’s easy to think of Washington as formal and stuffy (because he often was), but how dignified could he be when he gave his dogs awesome names like Venus, Truelove, Drunkard, and Sweet Lips?

#9

George loved assembly balls and could dance for hours without stopping. Ladies loved to dance with him, if only so they could “get a touch of him.”

#10

This well-read, dancing farmer was no pacifist. In case there was any doubt, Washington's G.I. Joe figure came equipped with a pistol and a sword. And a telescope, so he could look ahead at all the ass he was about to kick.

After his first battle at 21 years old Washington was hooked, saying there was “something charming in the sound” of bullets whistling. When the British military wouldn’t accept him during the French and Indian War, he volunteered just to get back into the action. Years later, he showed up to the Continental Congress in his old (too-tight) war uniform, ready to kick some Redcoat butt. He was either an adrenaline junkie or he just liked shooting people. 

You might think he had to step back from the action as president, but he disagreed. It had been 13 years since he got to shoot anybody, so when farmers in western Pennsylvania were unwilling to pay a new whiskey tax, the 62-year-old President jumped on his horse and personally led 13,000 troops to suppress the Whiskey Rebellion. Fortunately for the country, his heavy-handed response established the strength and sovereignty of the federal government and probably prevented (or postponed) a civil war. 

Unfortunately for his bloodlust, the Whiskey Rebellion ended peacefully.  

This post is bittersweet for me, as it's my last focused on the first president. I'll miss you, George... you'll always be my first. But now it's time for me to plod through to John Adams, who might be cool but definitely does not have his own G.I. Joe.

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For more presidential passions, check out:
8 Things John Adams Loved
10 Things Thomas Jefferson Loved 
8 Things James Madison Loved 
10 Things James Monroe Loved

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Sources: Washington: The Indispensable Man by James Thomas Flexner, mountvernon.org 

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Washington's Mortifying Mother (and My Own)

George Washington's first great battle was with his own mother.

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After reading about George Washington and the rocky relationship he had with his mother, I realized how lucky I was to have a mother whose maddening guilt trips were at least the normal kind of batshit crazy. 

When it came to humiliating and tormenting her son, Mary Ball Washington was in a class by herself.

I don’t mean embarrassing in normal mom ways like showing naked baby paintings of him to his girlfriends or (like my mother) acting bewildered and insulted if a waiter offered her Diet Coke instead of Diet Pepsi like they were out to bamboozle her. 

No, Mary Ball’s embarrassments were epic, growing greater in excess as her son rose higher in success.

Do Me a Favor

No matter how old you are, you’ll always be your parents’ child. That’s just how the English language works, impressing on offspring a sense of hierarchy and duty inherent in its monarchical culture. This was even truer in Washington’s time when being a dutiful son was compulsory, even if those duties were stupid.

In the wilderness of the Ohio Country at war with the French and Indians, Washington received a letter from his dear old mum. Did she write to express her love and concern, or to tell him how proud she was of his bravery? No. She wanted him to pick up some butter. 

He was off in the middle of nowhere where roads didn't even exist, and she asked if he could please send her butter. Oh, and a Dutchman, too – she wondered if he could find her a literal human being from Holland to be her indentured servant.

When he read her letter, presumably with muskets firing and tomahawks flying all around him, it was the first time in history someone said “Are you fucking kidding me?” [citation needed]

I’m tempted to cut her some slack because butter is awesome, but there had to be an easier way for her to get her hands on some. Or maybe there wasn’t – this was 1755 and she should've been happy it was even discovered. The worst part is that her request was not only selfish, but it totally trivialized his war efforts. “You’re obviously not doing anything important, George, so can you stop by the Piggly-Wiggly for some butter and a slave?”

Many of my requests from my mom came in the form of voicemails listing which Janet Evanovich or Jonathan Kellerman books to order her from Amazon, since her experiences with computers and the internet only ended in screaming and tears (usually mine). That was probably for the best, since it shielded her from reams of emails in her inbox claiming Obama wanted to use her railroad retirement to fund Michelle’s lavish vacations. I say "reams" because that’s what old people do with emails, they print them out. Most conversations with my mother when she had the internet went like this:

     MOM: I can’t get this email to print.  
     ME: Why? Why do you need this to happen?
     MOM: Oh, just forget it.

For her, the internet was a big scary box where for every exciting new pot roast recipe there was a frightening secret threatening to destroy the country.

If I were away at war like Washington was, my mom would probably have wanted a magnet shaped like the country I was in and a mug with the name of the war on it. She was convinced the best way to show off your son's devotion is with souvenirs you can put on the fridge and drink tea from. Not having these tchotchkes would only vindicate her fears that she was utterly unloved.

On one hand I would have moved mountains for my mother. On the other, I could barely muster lifting a finger. I was endowed upon birth with an extremely low tolerance for her lesser needs. My brain was hard-wired to find nothing more annoying and less of a priority than the random tasks she assigned me.

It's a coping mechanism to be annoyed at the drop of a hat by your mother. I believe nature ensured a balance to counteract a child's overwhelming love and indebtedness, because otherwise there would just be an unhealthy amount of hugging and crying and no one would ever leave home.

I imagine it’s the same way for new parents with babies. I would dote myself silly over my kid and live in a state of constant paralyzing fear for its safety…but nature will make sure I’m far too tired keeping the little shit alive for any of that. See? Balance.

Leaving Home

Mary raised George alone after his father died when he was 11. My dad died when I was 7, so I get what it’s like to grow up with an anxious, protective mother. I never went off to lead any dangerous wars or become president of a fledgling republic, but I did something almost as daunting for a kid from the Midwest – I moved to California. 

Living clear across the country meant I could only afford to visit once a year. She struggled with depression anyway, and having her youngest son so far away didn't make it any easier. Even though she couldn't help making me feel guilty for not writing or visiting enough, she never made me feel guilty for moving to The Golden State. She always supported me. One thing she was truly excited about was how close I would be to where they made Days of Our Lives and Wheel of Fortune.

There was no maternal support from Mary Ball Washington when George wanted to leave home and join the military. On the day he was to meet with General Braddock about joining the French and Indian War, she showed up at his door warning him it would be dangerous and (more importantly) that she would be neglected if he left. He dutifully listened to every word until she wore herself out, and he missed his appointment with the General. Her concerns for his safety may have been valid, but that wouldn't stop him from pursuing his dreams. In his career as a military hero, she was his first battle.

Only one letter from Mary to her son still exists. It’s a little burned around the edges and some words are missing, but enough remains to remind me of the complicated feelings my mom could bring out in me with only a few words:

“I was truly un[ea]sy my not being at [home] when you went throu Fredericksburg. It was an unlucky thing for me now I am afraid I never shall have that pleasure agin[.] I am soe very unwell & this trip over the mountins has almost kill’d me[.] I got the 20 five ginnes you was soe kind to send me & am greatly abliged to you for it…”

Washington saw his mother even less than once a year, and the thought that she missed his visit kills me. The thought of any lonely older woman's sadness...I can't take it. Just imagining a random lady dropping her groceries or not knowing how to restart her cable box in time to watch her "stories" is enough to make my eyes swell with tears like a Budweiser Clydesdale commercial on the Super Bowl. Somehow Mary's spelling makes it even sadder.

That letter reminds me of my own visits home, arguing with my mom about how she thought nobody cared enough to visit her. My very presence in her kitchen wasn't enough to convince her otherwise, and she insisted I was only there because I had to be. I yelled about how stupid that was and how I was there because I loved her. Why couldn't she understand that obligation and love co-exist?

She'd inevitably calm down after her daily cry and a Xanax nap and she'd bring me a ham sandwich and we would watch Game Show Network together. In those moments I saw she was so happy to have me home with her, but already dreading being alone again when I left.

But like a mother, Mary Ball had to ruin a perfectly heartfelt moment with a reminder that she has unrealistic needs. Later in that same letter, right after saying how much she loves George, misses him, and appreciates the money he sent, she passive-aggressively mentions how nice it would be to have a house on the other side of the mountains, if he could arrange that, “some little hous of my one if it is only twelve foot squar.” 

Even if it were only 12 square feet? Like…the exact size of a coffin? Yikes. I thought only my mother could mix love with not-so-subtle sides of guilt and fatalistic woe.

Political Combatants

I learned long ago that families are supposed to fight about politics. Family Ties taught me that it's normal for hippie parents to beget a Reagan-loving Alex P. Keaton.

My first political disagreement with my mom was purely generational. I was 12 and she was somehow involved in Iowa senator Tom Harkin’s 1992 presidential campaign. I think she made buttons or sewed stuff – let's just assume she was his personal Betsy Ross. Her heart belonged to Harkin but I was casting my (mock election) vote for Bill Clinton because he could play the saxophone and was just plain cool. I won that round.

I'll never forget how my mother revealed her own Washingtonian isolationist policies to me in high school. I told her I was writing a paper on euthanasia and she responded, “Why can't you write about youth in America?” I explained the definition and she nodded knowingly, like she'd had to mercy kill a lot of people in her day.

In later years, she became susceptible to fear campaigns and I realized that sometimes you just have to accept that your Thanksgiving turkey comes with a side of Obama being a Muslim.

But those differences were nothing compared to Washington and his mother. How opposed were their beliefs? Even though her own son was commanding the American forces in The Revolutionary War, she rooted for the British. The great American leader’s mother was a straight-up Loyalist who must have thought George and his buddies were traitors. Her Tory beliefs would have gotten her run out of the country or imprisoned if her son wasn’t so damn beloved.

It’s not hard to imagine why he visited her so rarely.

The Ultimate Embarrassment

Even though George bought his mother a house and did everything he could to make sure she was provided for – without actually having to see her much – she still felt destitute. He was busy commanding the American forces, so she decided to take her case to the public. 

She petitioned the Virginia legislature to make it a law that the mother of the commander in chief of the armed forces be provided for financially. She might as well have announced to the world, “Your fearless leader is a heartless scoundrel who won’t take care of his own mother!”

Washington’s friend in the Virginia House of Delegates, Benjamin Harrison, let him know about his mother’s actions. George responded by saying, “Thank ye, Ben, for bringing this distressing news to my attention! Rest assured I shall make sure your son serves as president someday...shortly.” [citation needed]

Washington put a stop to his mother’s extortion attempts right away, either by paying her more guineas, reminding her she was only avoiding jail or deportation because of him, or – God forbid – by visiting her.

My mom never called my boss to complain about how I was treating her. She would never. Except maybe if I went on a business trip and came back without any mugs or magnets.

Endings

At 80 years old, Mary Ball Washington died just a few months after her son was inaugurated the first president of the United States of America. Washington said there was consolation in knowing she lived to “an age beyond which few attain.” My mom only made it to 70 after a painful six month descent the doctors never figured out. Her diagnosis would have been perfect for Mary Ball’s perpetual feelings of neglect – broken heart syndrome. A heart problem that’s usually treatable, it can be brought on by great feelings of depression or trauma.

I flew home to visit her in the hospital a week before she passed, and even in her fragile state she was able to trigger all those complicated feelings. I felt guilt for not living nearby. I felt outpourings of love as we watched Wheel of Fortune and she told me how much it meant when I took her to a taping of the show. And I felt angry and worthless when she kept taking off her oxygen mask because it was uncomfortable or refused to eat because it hurt – I couldn't understand why she wasn't doing everything she could to live for us. No one knew exactly what was happening or how far it would go. It's a shame, really. One of her tiny pleasures was dishing out guilt and pity, and she never got to do that with the extra oomph of knowing she was dying. 

Following Mary Ball's death, Washington said, “When I was last at Fredericksburg, I took a final leave of my Mother, never expecting to see her more” indicating he knew it was the last time he would ever see her. That must have been heartbreaking for him, even if she did root for his defeat and publicly accuse him of being a terrible son. She still had an untold effect on him becoming the man he did and he knew it, referring to her as "my reverend mother, by whose maternal hand, early deprived of a father, I was led to manhood." 

Maybe the maternal instinct isn’t just about birthing and nurturing. Maybe there's also an element of being a pain in the ass that’s necessary to propel a child into adulthood, or at least teach them survival instincts like coping and avoidance. And Mary Ball was such an epic pain in the ass that the British army was child's play compared to her.

I’m glad I visited my mother a week before she died, and I’m glad I didn’t know it was the last time I would see her. It would have been too painful to say goodbye, and I probably would have made promises I could never keep about cleaning my boxes out of the garage. 

My mom at Santa Monica Beach, 2009

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Sources: Washington: The Indispensable Man by James Thomas Flexner, Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow, The George Washington Papers at the Library of Congress, american-presidents.org 

Painting at the top: "Mary Ball Washington at the age of about Four Score" attributed to Robert Edge Pine, circa 1786

 

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