Mary Todd Lincoln's Time Machine

We had a house-guest here at Chez Drysdale for a few weeks this past July. Mary Todd Lincoln. Apparently her husband Abe was a reknowned time-traveller as documented in various recent graphic novels and Joe Flaherty's 'Abe Lincoln's Time Machine' on Saturday Night Live a couple of decades ago.

Here is sampling of some of my diary entries for that month -

Just had a lovely lunch with Mary Todd Lincoln. Abe's widow.

Was talking to Mary Todd Lincoln today. She seemed a little down - until I suggested, "Let's go shopping!"

Dinner out with Mary Todd Lincoln yesterday. As usual, she insisted on ordering in French. "A Royale avec fromage, s'ils vous plate. And one to go - Abe ain't et nuttin' all day. What with the Civil War and all."

Brunch with Mary Todd Lincoln. Still dressing in black after all these years. The crowd at Cora's seemed a bit uncomfortable with it all.

Worst brunch ever! I suspect this might be one of Mary Todd Lincoln's manic days. Julia Grant (General Ulysses S's widow,) walks in wearing the same black jump-suit as Mary and Mare goes ballistic. Never saw the cops called to Cora's before.

In Mary Todd Lincoln's day, slavery was the norm. Tonight, when told that a black man was President of the United States, she did a spit-take and coffee came out her nose. On hearing he was the first one, she thought a moment and declared, "S'about fukkin' time."

Spent the morning teaching Mary Todd Lincoln how to drive. Hit so many pot-holes she jumped out at City Hall and gave Mayor Joe a tongue-lashing he will not soon likely forget.

Won tickets to see 'Camelot' at Stratford on the radio today. Box seats! Invited Mary Todd Lincoln to join us but she declined. I suspect she thought it was about the White House during the Kennedy years.

Mary Todd Lincoln found out tonight about who's been invited to sleepovers in the Lincoln Bedroom at the White House in recent years. Movie stars during the Clinton administration and wealthy Republicans during the George W. Bush era. She was NOT impressed.

Big line-up for the opening of the Home County Folk Festival today. Mary Todd Lincoln decided to jump the cue by going to the front of the line, flash an American five-dollar bill at the security guard, wink and ask, "Does the name 'Abraham Lincoln' mean anything to you?

After spending a small fortune at Home County Folk Festival on elephant ears and over-priced knick-knacks for the White House, Mary Todd Lincoln visibly bristled and bared her teeth when a festival-volunteer asked if she'd like to make a five-dollar donation for entry into the park.

Took Mary Todd Lincoln to the Hyland to see 'The Conspirator' to cheer her up. Probably not the best choice. She shouted at the screen for the entire movie.

Mary Todd Lincoln noticed a CBC-listing for 'My American Cousin' the 1985 Canadian movie. She started yelling at the screen, "OUR American Cousin?!? I hate that play! I hate that play!" ... I fear that today may be another of her dark days.

Mary Todd Lincoln just offered to type up my blog notes. "Where's your Remington, Sonny? And I don't mean your pistol."

Mary Todd Lincoln had a lovely cyber-conversation last night with fellow spiritualist Bess Houdini. Both agreed that seances were an ineffective tool in getting murdered husbands to call home. Or at least check in and say 'Howdy.'

Took Mary Todd Lincoln for Pad Thai at Ben Thanh last night. She'd never had Vietnamese before. Walking home down York Street, she stopped at the corner of Thames Street looked west to where the Negro shanty-town once stood during the Underground Railroad days. "Free at last! Free at last!" she whispered reverentially.
"Because of Abe's Emancipation Proclamation?" I ask.
"No, you idiot. Because they're dead."

A bad day for Mary Todd Lincoln, mourning for son Willie's young death at the age of 11 during the Civil War years. She wanted to deal with grief in her usual manner so we went on a shopping spree at Kingsmills where she cleaned out the entire white glove department. 300 pairs. Even though she only wears black these days. Then she wanted to buy drapes for the Oval Office but we couldn't find any at Blinds R' Us.

Came home to find Mary Todd Lincoln standing at the bookcase, my 1969 edition of 'Best of Sick Jokes' in her hand. She looks me in the eye and reads aloud - "Other than *that* Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?" And with a look of complete disgust for our jaded modern age and civilization, she hopped into Abe's machine and returned to her own time.