You may not remember a man by the name of Tip O’Neill. History does. So do annoyingly precocious homeschool students forced to learn history and listen to radio news before pretending we had anything interesting to bloviate about at the dinner table. Thanks, mom and dad. A world of parents could use a heaping dose of that kind of common sense before sending their 8th graders off to Congress via bartending school. But, back to lesson.

As Speaker of the House in the era of Ronald Reagan, Tip O’Neill was a Democrat giant of a man who would have eaten Alexandria Ocasio Cortez and Nancy Pelosi lengthwise double decker on a hoagie bun, wiped the mustard from his alligator smile with Ilhan Omar’s hijab and sent Rashida Tlaib to the Congressional cloakroom for an Ivory Soap snack break until she could learn to watch her drunken, stupid, foul mouth.

Tip O’Neill was headmaster in a room of adults. At a time when men were still men, Speaker Tip O’Neill made a generation raised on the Rat Pack hold their peace until he finished speaking. He commanded the attention of four star generals and attorney generals. He didn’t brook fools nor break protocol and he certainly didn’t tear up State of the Union speeches like a crazed banshee or call the Commander in Chief a “Motherfucker,” in public for lack of intelligent argument.

In other words, he was an adult.

Tip O’Neill had as much time for amateur politicians as Ronald Reagan had for Communists. Seeing Communists elected to Congress would have sent both American men of Irish heritage into red faced apoplectic meltdown. No hyphens required. They were Americans first at a time when both parties still fought for the same flag, regardless of policy.

History leaves little doubt what a cartoonishly outsized personality like O’Neill would have done to the likes of the not-ready-for-Prime time and embarrassingly undereducated mouthlings that are now mucking up the public stage with their toddler life skills and diarrhea musings. Along with a growing list of generational mismatches in stature, I’d pay particularly good money to see this donnybrook actually happen. Think Muhammad Ali vs. Floyd Mayweather, John Wayne vs. Justin Bieber, or Bruce vs. Caitlyn Jenner. It would be a bloodletting that might spare the final destruction of the word “Democrat” in American life. And that’s the far broader point.

Tip O’Neill …didn’t brook fools nor break protocol and he certainly didn’t tear up State of the Union speeches like a crazed banshee or call the Commander in Chief a “Motherfucker,” in public for lack of intelligent argument. In other words, he was an adult. –Shad Olson

Because Tip O’Neill knew better than to stand in the way when an opponent’s policies were winning spectacularly for the nation. Even if it meant putting Democrat will to power to bed for a decade or more. Because he knew when Ronald Reagan had won the mandate to lead. And that opposing clear success of a political demigod would mean suicide for the Democrat brand.

As the Carter malaise of the 1970’s gave way to Ronald Reagan’s ascendancy, America was on an unsteady footing of shaken trust in the institutions of power inflicted by Watergate combined with the economic fragility of an expensive losing war that had many wondering if the Republic’s bicentennial year had been the closing down of American preeminence.

Enter one, Ronald Wilson Reagan, 40th President of the United States.

Facing a seemingly unstoppable Soviet behemoth abroad and an internal crisis of confidence, Reagan set about enacting pro-growth domestic policies and a military rebuilding that in two years time led to the most explosive era of economic recovery the nation had ever seen. After creating six million new jobs in his first term (10-million more in his second) and sending American space shuttles and military prowess into orbit, literally, Ronald Reagan delivered the most crushing reelection landslide of the modern era, winning 525 electoral votes and 49 states. Losing only Minnesota (his opponent’s home state) and the District of Columbia and winning a clear ruling mandate for his policies, his platform and his swaggering charm.

Mostly lost to the sands of time is the lesson taught graciously by the man chosen by history to stand in front of Reagan’s asphalt steamroller waving the token flag of Democrat opposition. Tip O’Neill was that man. Tip O’Neill, who liked a stream of scotch whiskey every bit as tasty as the succession of young female talent that inhabited his private life and whose W.C. Fields alcoholic nose and outsized wit made him fodder for both columnists and cartoonists of the day.

Tip O’Neill, who awakened every day in a political world that belonged lock, stock and barrel to the persona and policies of his nemesis, Ronald Reagan. The Gipper. The political strongman of the age.

And Tip O’Neill knew it.

Tip O’Neill, who awakened every day in a political world that belonged lock, stock and barrel to the persona and policies of his nemesis, Ronald Reagan. The Gipper. The political strongman of the age. And Tip O’Neill knew it.

What’s more, he admitted it regularly, graciously and in public. Over and over again.

Tip O’Neill gave credit where credit was due. Because he knew it was the only thing that wouldn’t look like complete insanity. He knew it was the only course of action that wouldn’t amount to political suicide. Hint, hint.

Because deep down, Tip O’Neill loved America even more than he loved his gilded perch of political power brokerage in Washington. Hint, hint.

Truth is, Democrats in 2020 would be very fortunate to research the historical example of Tip O’Neill in 1983-1985 and prepare to recite and repeat it line for line. Rip pages if you need to. You’re clearly good at that. Find coloring books if you can.

Political winds are predicting that history is about to repeat itself, again. Or at least rhyme in ways that will leave that same wisely chosen, gracious acquiescence to Trump train momentum as the the only choice that doesn’t involve getting squashed by a steamroller at high speed.

Solomon’s wisdom says that even dishonestly feigned humility and deference to greatness are more attractive than the perpetual vindictiveness of sour grapes. Much less, open attempts at coup d’tat. Hope you enjoy hard bunks and hardtack.

It’s political common sense.

Then again, dear, stupid, white suited ladies of the Communist left, borrowing the words of another Democrat adult in the room, Lloyd Bentsen:

“We knew Tip O’Neill. Tip O’Neill was a friend of ours. And let me tell you, you nonsensical, America-hating, blithering brats.”

“You’re no Tip O’Neill.”

Next.