Henrietta Hay's Column

"Molly Ivins can't say that, can she?" She sure can. That's the title of her book and she said that and a whole lot more recently in Denver. I actually pulled myself away from my computer and my easy chair and went to hear my favorite columnist speak. Last year I wrote that my ambition was to have dinner with Molly Ivins. Finally, along with a friend from Grand Junction and a couple of hundred other people I did it.

In case there is anyone within the range of my voice who does not know who Molly Ivins is, I think she is the funniest, sharpest political columnist writing today. She is six feet tall, runs her hands through her red hair and paces as she talks. She is a Texan and you have to speak a little Teksus to understand exactly what she is saying. She hates hypocrites and stuffed shirts and self-righteous people who threaten free speech. Right on, Molly.

We live in a fairly conservative part of Colorado. That's a little like saying that bears sleep in the winter. There are a quite a few liberals floating around, but we don't dare talk about it a lot. So it is a rare treat to be in an audience of 200 or so, all of whom laugh at the same jokes, cheer at the same wise cracks, dislike the same Presidents and believe that the First Amendment is too good to mess around with. I haven't been in a crowd like that since I went to hear Gloria Steinem.

The American Civil Liberties Union of Colorado brought Molly to Denver for their summer picnic.

It is obviously an influential organization since the picnic was held on the only night all week that did not feature rain, wind, lightning and Thunder on the Right.

Most of the stories Molly told cannot be repeated in a family newspaper, but they all had very sharp points. Her main concern is the growing threat to free speech by the people who are convinced that they are the only ones with any answers.

This is a time of great social change, and people are scared by it. In fact, anybody who isn't scared today is lacking a marble or two. But the real danger is that fear will cause us to hurt ourselves by giving up some of our freedoms. Her self-proclaimed mission in life is to fight for freedom and have fun. She says you have to have fun, because you don't always win, and it hurts too much if you can't laugh.

And funny she is. She tells about Texas governor, Ann Richards, who sort of got elected by default. Her opponent, Claytie Williams, talked himself out of a job. She says, "If they'd just shut him up in a box, he'd be governor today." Fortunately, they didn't. He is, according to Ivins, a perfect representative of a vanishing Texas. "He's white, he's macho, he's rich. He really does wear cowboy boots and a cowboy hat all the time." And he is the guy who, when it rained on a picnic once, commented that, "Bad weather's like rape: as long as it's inevitable you might as well lie back and enjoy it.

She started her career writing about the Texas legislature, but now she spreads her wise cracks around. Of course she saves the best ones for the "other guys." At the dinner, a stand up, life size poster of George Bush, which Molly autographed with her famous comment, "Calling George Bush shallow is like calling a dwarf short," was auctioned off for $100. I wimped out at $35. After all, where could I have put it in Grand Junction?

She considers H. Ross Pee'roh to be the San Diego chicken of American politics. That's the San Diego Padres chicken, if you are not a sports fan. She has a kind word for the Democrats, too. "Trying to organize Democrats is like trying to herd ducks."

My Texas son reads Molly Ivins with some trepidation. He agrees with her, and laughs with her, but he says "My gosh, that's my legislature."

I'm going to follow the advice she gave me when she autographed my book. "Hang in, keep raisin' hell, and don't forget to keep laughin."