Following up a comment from a previous post: Memory and Politics

[womzilla]

In my post on Decency, max_bialystock quotes Woody Allen from Radio Days:

I never forget that New Year's Eve when Aunt Bea awakened me to watch 1944 come in. I've never forgotten any of those people or any of the voices we would hear on the radio. Though the truth is, with the passing of each New Year's Eve, those voices do seem to grow dimmer and dimmer.

and added:

I think the problem lies in the passage of time. For those of us close enough to remember the events of the "McCarthy Era" and the Viet Nam "Police Action" the past grows dimmer and dimmer.

There are a lot of things this brings to mind. Two of them are fighting for foremost.

One is this recent statement from Grover Norquist. Grover is probably the leading intellectual force behind the current "conservative movement"; he delights in repugnant statements like "My goal is to cut government in half in twenty-five years, to get it down to the size where we can drown it in the bathtub" and "Bipartisanship is another term for date rape". This week, in an interview with the Spanish newspaper El Mundo, he said that he thought the Democratic Party was coming to an end because: 

their demographic base is shrinking. Each year, 2 million people who fought in the Second World War and lived through the Great Depression die. This generation has been an exeception in American history, because it has defended anti-American policies. They voted for the creation of the welfare state and obligatory military service. They are the base of the Democratic Party. And they are dying.

In case you were wondering, yes, the Republicans really do want you dead. When you're dead, you won't remember.

The other is this, the one brilliant line from Barry Levinson's Avalon:

If I'd known everything was going to be gone, I would have remembered harder.

Don't forget.

Comments

[kalimac.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, Grover. That generation may be dying, but with your policies you'll quickly manufacture another one just like it.

Two memories of my own about memory, both dating from about 20 years ago:

1) Trying to explain, to a Grover-esque conservative born about 1945 who was complaining about Social Security tax, about this Great Depression thing and this FDR guy. Reaction: "oh, I never realized that." Much later reaction: "I know you explained that to me once, but I don't remember what you said."

2) Trying to explain, to a person who did remember the Depression, and who was accordingly terrified of putting her money in the bank, about this FDIC thing that FDR had done.

[wizwom.livejournal.com]

Well, actually, from what I've seen, the Democratic base is minorties and the poor.
The democratic leadership, meanwhile, is the cynical politico who calculates that he can have more power in the democratic organization playing to heartstrings rather than the republican organization, playing to pocketbooks.

[shelleybear.livejournal.com]

"Avalon" is probably one of my ten favorite movies.
For me, it's not just about memories, but also about the immigrant experience.
Yes, I am Jewish, and yes, while Levinson chose not to really accentuate the Kerchinisky's religion, it is a very strong component of their (and his)lives so I do ten to identify with many aspects of the film.
Now, if you will forgive me, I'll paste then entire quote.

"Sam: I came to America in 1914--by way of Philadelphia. That's where I got off the boat. And then I came to Baltimore. It was the most beautiful place you ever seen in your life. There were lights everywhere! What lights they had! It was a celebration of lights! I thought they were for me, Sam, who was in America. Sam was in America! I know what holiday it was, but there were lights. And I walked under them. The sky exploded, people cheered, there were fireworks! What welcome it was, what a welcome!
I didn't know where my brothers were. I had an address on a letter, but when I went thre, they'd moved. But I found a man who knew the name Krichinsky. He was a little man with big shoes. I'll never forget him! He had such big shoes! They were brand new beautiful shoes! He told me this was how he made his living! He would break in shoes for the wealthy. Stuff them with newspaper and walk in them. I said, 'what a country is this, what a country.' Wealthy didn't even have to break in their own shoes. Ahh. So this man with the shoes took me down one street after another. We walked and walked and the skies would light up and explode in a celebration!
And then we came to Avalon. And the man with the shoes yelled 'Krichinsky! Krichinsky!' And my four brothers looked down and saw me! Sam!
(The flashback ends here and we find ourself looking at a much older Sam, the storyteller, sitting in a chair, smoking a cigar)
And that's when I came to America, it was the Fourth of July. Boy, did they use to celebrate! Big celebrations! And they'd close the streets and would celebrate through the night!
(hums to the children he's telling the story to, chuckling to himself)"

My late father (may he rest in peace) and his departed brothers also came to this country, with their father, on or about that time.
There was a wealth of stories.
Things like stuffing Nazis into garbagbe can them down the hills of Park Slope in Brooklyn.