Skip to main content

Three Cents' Worth

I do not know what brings this to mind.

President Harry Truman's daughter, Margaret, apparently thought of herself as a singer.  Perhaps because she was the President's daughter, she was accorded a chance to sing at Constitution Hall.

Paul Hume was the music critic for The Washington Post, and he wrote that the concert did not go well.  Her voice, he said, was pleasant, but of little size and fair quality, and that she could not sing very well; that she sang flat a good deal of the time, as she had been doing for years; that she could not sing with anything approaching professional quality.

Mr. Truman, a mean piano player himself, sat down at his desk and wrote to Mr. Hume.

Dec. 6, 1950
Mr. Hume:
I've just read your lousy review of Margaret's concert. I've come to the conclusion that you are an "eight ulcer man on four ulcer pay."
It seems to me that you are a frustrated old man who wishes he could have been successful. When you write such poppy-cock as was in the back section of the paper you work for it shows conclusively that you're off the beam and at least four of your ulcers are at work.
Some day I hope to meet you. When that happens you'll need a new nose, a lot of beefsteak for black eyes, and perhaps a supporter below!
Pegler, a gutter snipe, is a gentleman alongside you. I hope you'll accept that statement as a worse insult than a reflection on your ancestry.
H.S.T.

Then--and this is what first came to my mind about what happened in 1950-- President Truman addressed the envelope, and took a stamp from his wallet to send the letter.  He did not want the government to pay for his personal business.  As I recall from 1950, Harry Truman, himself, walked his letter to a mail box.

President Truman also wrote to the veterinarian who had treated their dog, scolding him for not having sent a bill.  So the vet sent a bill.  It is reported that when the subsequent president then received a bill from the same chastised vet, that president scolded the vet for having sent a bill.

As I said, initially, I do not know what brings this to mind, unless it could be that our present Leader of the Free World recently scolded Nordstroms for having dropped Ivanka Trump's fashion line.


But I don't suppose it is the same thing, is it?  

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard
1 comment
Read more

Caliche Busters and Government Work

When I was young and both stronger and smarter than I am now, I put my might and brain to work doing nothing useful, unless it might be thought that hand/foot/eye coordination might come in handy.  Those were skills to be learned and practiced.   I found an iron bar our grandfather had shaped in his blacksmith shop.  He took old car, truck, or wagon axles, and made tools from them for digging post holes.  He sharpened one end to a tip, and the other to a blade.  Washington State, like many places, had a hard layer of soil, probably created by water and limestone, or some such materials, that made digging holes a miserable chore.  The bar chipped through the natural concrete so that a shovel could take it up.   I found Grandpa's iron bar, and since I was young and dumb and strong--or so I thought--decided to punch a hole down to hardpan and ultimate truth.  I knew how to do that.  Raise the bar vertically with both hands, and then slam in straight down.  On the second try, aimi
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them.  Even when all they wanted to do w
Post a Comment
Read more