Good-bye, Dame Thatcher

“Ronnie!  JPII!”

“Maggie! You finally joined us.”

“May I have a jelly bean?”

“Leave the red ones for me.”

“Speaking of red, any commies ’round these parts, or did you clean the place up before I arrived?”

“No need.  They all went straight down there.”


I don’t remember much of Margaret Thatcher’s time as Prime Minister; I was nine when she left office.  (The fall of communism and the starvation in Russia were about the extent of my knowledge of world affairs.) But I was bemused to find out that her academic track was very similar to mine – her, a chemist, then a barrister; me, a chemical engineer, then an attorney.  Now, every birthday of mine is her birthday in the next world.  Have a good one, Iron Lady, and enjoy some well-deserved rest.


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