Sen. Lindsey Graham’s sudden death on Saturday stirred up a mess of feelings. Analysts pondered his transformation from bipartisan negotiator to Donald Trump toady. A few people pulled muscles while straining to label him a “lion of the Senate.” But my first concern was, “What’s gonna happen to Mee-Maw?”
If you’re unfamiliar with the reference, Mee-Maw is the chicken-fried Greek chorus that “Late Night with Seth Meyers” concocted to hound Graham whenever he excused Trump’s corruption. Initially introduced as an invisible scene partner for Meyers to scream-drawl at during his cornpone impersonations of the Republican gentleman from South Carolina, Mee-Maw evolved into a Southern gothic performance piece.
She could be infantilizing (“Mee-Maw! I’m a grown man! I don’t take baths with you anymore, Mee-Maw!”) or humbling (“My Mee-Maw keeps telling me no one’s ever going to come to my parties. Maybe they’d come if you’d stay in your room instead of traipsing around the dinner table with your nightgown half-open!”). She baked biscuits worth defending, yet pooh-poohed her grandson’s Broadway dreams.
Despite all the power Graham amassed, Mee-Maw was always hovering nearby to remind lil’ Lindsey that he was never too good to clean her hemorrhoid donut.
I had my fingers crossed that “Late Night” would haul out Mee-Maw for one last jig when it returned on Monday. Alas, the old girl couldn’t compete with the assortment of crises that transpired during the show’s three-week hiatus, including the once-in-a-lifetime comedy opportunity presented by explosive headlines about explosive diarrhea. “I don’t want to keep talking about it,” Meyers admitted during Monday’s “A Closer Look” segment, “but as the host of a late-night comedy show, I am contractually obligated!”
Just as well. Now that Graham’s gone, it’s only fitting that his imaginary grandma rest her bewigged skeleton in that great rocking chair in the sky. ‘Night, Mee-Maw. Regardless of how you showed up, you were a brilliant antagonist for a morally flexible opportunist.
