A Brief Extemporaneous Exposition on The Life Of Washington Irving
Out of a pinch. There’s Washington Irving (named for POTUS Numero Uno: Georgie Boy The Wash, as he was born the same week that the British gave up fighting those upstart revolutionary colonies and America became its own boss) trying to make the scene with the former Mrs. P.B. Shelley. A way in or out. Who knows? He’s got his hands in a lot of cookie jars. He was the first American Man of Letters, and predicted Van Burn’s presidency, for Christ’s sake, you know? That’s a lot of a load on a guy, especially a hoaxer like old Wash. He made up a guy who wrote a yet-to-be-published book to make his own book more successful when it was published. Oh, and did I mention he also created our modern idea of Christmas? Well, he did, and way before any of that Charles Dickens crap. The Irvster was of the sort who’d say stuff like, “When I cannot get a dinner to suit my taste, I endeavor to get a taste to suit my dinner.”
Anyhow.
As a six-year-old Manhattanite, his nanny took The Irvster to met his namesake, the grand white-haired G.W., who’d just been inaugurated the nation’s first President, and who was staying in New York in 1789. That Father Of The Country promptly blessed the kid and sent him on his way. It was a good show all around.
