Trena Eiden columnist.

Courtesy photo

It’s your 248th birthday America! Yikes! That’s a lot of birthday cakes. It’s also a lot of time to raise up quirky presidents, not to mention the rest of the nuts.  

When George Washington was president, his vice president, John Adams, was considered, “strong and tight-made” meaning chubby. Adams got the idea that the president should be referred to as “His Majesty.” Adam’s foes were so irked by the undemocratic-sounding title that they responded, “If you press us on this, we’ll honor you with a name of your own, “His Rotundity.” Amazingly enough, George remained simply, President Washington.  

Another president with an interesting nickname was “Silent Cal” Coolidge. Rarely showing emotion, after learning of his ascendancy to the presidency following the death of Warren Harding, Coolidge was sworn in by his father, a justice of the peace. It was the middle of the night, but unlike others who might have stayed up to mull things over, the new president simply went back to bed. Though he was a somber man, his dour expression masked a dry wit. At a state dinner, a guest told Coolidge she had bet friends that she could get at least three words out of him. Coolidge, cool as a cucumber stoically replied, “You lose.”  

Franklin D. Roosevelt was usually referred to as FDR, which was fine with him because he hated small talk. As president, he was subjected to a lot of it and argued that in most conversations of blathering back and forth, people never actually listened to what others said. Instead, they waited impatiently for their turn to speak. To illustrate his point, FDR would sometimes greet people by saying, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” Invariably, people nodded, smiled and then began speaking about something important to them. Only once did someone actually listen, replying, “I’m sure she had it coming.”  

If you’ve ever tried to cut or even put a nail into hickory, it gives insight into General and later President, Andrew Jackson’s nickname, “Old Hickory.” Given this moniker by his troops for his strength and stubbornness, he also had a sense of humor. He taught his parrot, named Poll, to curse. For whatever reason, someone thought it would be a good idea to have the parrot join the mourners at President Jackson’s funeral. All was well until throngs of people showed up and the slaves began to wail. Poll got nervous and used so much off-color language and for so long, she had to be removed. At Andrew Jackson’s Hermitage Center, there’s a display with a likeness to Poll which does an audio tour. I was a little disappointed to learn it didn’t cuss during its spiel.  

It’s America’s birthday and boy, has she grown. There were 13 colonies and now there are 50 states and 14 territories. The population went from 2.5 million to more than 330 million. People now live, on average, 35 years longer than in 1776, and child mortality has plummeted from 45 percent to 1. We’ve built almost 4 million miles of paved roads and more than 5,000 public airports. There are 2.7 million miles of power lines to bring electricity, with almost 90 percent of the populace having access to the internet. We’ve been busy. We should take a day off and go eat some cake.  

But hang on, there’s more. We attend the church of our choice without repercussion when millions around the world meet in hiding to worship. We are privileged to complain about our government’s elected officials without fear of beheading. We benefit from education and employment, drive a car, have food, and take for granted all the opportunities bestowed upon us by our servicemen and women both living and deceased. I shudder to think what life without those amazing souls would be.  

When we winter in the south, I find a job and upon arrival a couple of years ago, I saw a plain sign with black lettering, “Help Wanted.” I called the number and a young man answered, “Hello.”

I asked what his company was and he said he was an Airforce recruiter. He asked if I had any questions he might answer.

I said, “Well maybe, why is my bladder getting me up at night?”

He stammered, so I laughed, “I’m a Gramma, and saw your sign for employment. I could probably answer more questions for you than you could for me at this point.”

Oddly, he didn’t ask me to come in to exchange ideas. Maybe he’d been talking to my offspring.  

Trena Eiden, trenaid@hotmail.com