And I thought my family Thanksgivings were rough.
My sister, who loved W. and worked on his 2000 convention, made it clear that I was not welcome in her guest room when I was writing about the phony run-up to the Iraq War. And my brother once scolded me at a holiday dinner, "If there was a hurricane, you'd blame Bush for it."
Then the Katrina catastrophe unfolded, as W. blithely mountain biked in Crawford, and I did.
But my conservative siblings never would have quarreled with me in public. And, besides, as my sister once said, she knew I'd be the one holding her hand at the end, not W.
So it's painful to watch the Cheney clan tear itself apart over politics — one of three titanically screwed-up political sibling relationships playing out now.
As The Wall Street Journal pointed out in a piece last year, "Sibling discord has been around since the Bible. Cain killed Abel. Leah stole Rachel's intended husband, Jacob. Joseph fought bitterly with his 10 older half brothers. Parents often have a hand in fostering it."
The paper noted that research shows that "our sibling relationships are often the longest of our lives, lasting 80 years or more" and that up to 45 percent of adults have "a rivalrous or distant relationship with a sibling," even though such estrangement often causes regret later in life.
Being estranged is not the issue for the Ford brothers. Enabling is.
For Doug, a member of Toronto's City Council, family loyalty should be about ushering the deranged mayor of Toronto off the stage, not pushing a narrative that his brother is the "white Obama" while Rob is doing his embarrassing Chris Farley skit.
(Farley's brother says the comedian would have "crushed" the impression.) The brothers call each other "Jones" for some reason and call their political stronghold of suburban Toronto wards "Ford Nation." They started their own talk show Monday night — canceled after one episode — and appeared in tandem on the "Today" show.