A lot of people are talking about Andrew Breitbart today, trying to sum up what he meant to us, to the other side, and to American politics in general. And many of them will get it right. That's the thing about Andrew: he was such a wonderful and dazzling bundle of energy and contradiction, that even his (many) detractors knew a lot about him. Andrew didn't hide anything.
But tomorrow or the next day, the political caravan will move on. New fights will emerge. Someone -- probably a few people -- will try to fill Andrew's giant shoes. I can't imagine anyone's succeeding, but I hope for our side someone does.
But here's what I want you to know about Andrew: when he laughed, he laughed loudly. And he laughed a lot. I remember hearing a particularly hilarious, and filthy, joke and thinking, "This is a joke for Andrew." And when I saw him at a party a few days later, I didn't even hesitate. Didn't wait for the pleasantries. "Andrew," I said, "I've got a joke for you." And I told him, and he laughed his crazy loud laugh, and followed it up with one of his own, and then quickly started filling me in on his latest scheme to win back the country, peppered with asides and casual profanities and blazing fury and sudden guffaws.
He was that way: funny and serious at the same time.
But here's what I really want you to know about Andrew: in the only three things that matter in a man's life, he was a hero. He was a doting and deeply smitten husband to wife Susie. A rambunctious and tireless dad to four spirited, generous children. A loyal and thoughtful friend. His house was always noisy and filled with children and friends and political allies.
I used to think, when I saw them out together -- Andrew mobbed by admirers, Andrew relating the latest nasty dust-up -- or at home with the ringing phones and the computers beeping, "Poor Susie."
Look, it's a loss for our side. But someone will come along to take care of the politics. Someone always does.
But it's the loss of that husband, and father, and friend, that is irreplaceable. If you're a praying kind of person, please pray for Susie and the children. And if, like me, you're not, then today is a perfect day to learn how.