A moment ago, I was watching a cable news discussion of the current political mess with the lawyer who represented Spiro Agnew during his troubles as sitting Vice-President. The discussion called to mind one of the loveliest moments of my life.
My first wife and I had not too long before relocated from a wretched New York semi-slum apartment that Columbia grandly allocated to me as a full professor in the Philosophy Department to a glorious Federal style three story home in Northampton, Massachusetts where we moved when my wife and I took up positions in the English and Philosophy Departments at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. I was still a rabid Mets fan, even though we were now in Red Sox territory.
My pine-paneled book lined third floor study looked out both on a back patio and also on Barrett Place, a lovely dead end street in the Smith College area of Northampton. I had a tiny portable TV set with rabbit ears that I brought up to my study so that I could keep track of the Mets’ battle for the National League championship.
It was there that I sat on October 10th, the sun streaming in the windows on a crisp fall day, working on my next lecture, watching the Mets win the final game of the National League playoffs against the Cincinnati Reds and listening to the spot announcements of Spiro Agnew’s resignation.
Life does not get much better than that.