I'm not going to weigh into the AnnCoulter thing...

no way. But I noticed a funny thing about widows, or rather, my 85-year-old aunt noticed this and called it to my attention.

My aunt is, of course, a widow, like most women her age. And she hangs around with a lot of other widows, playing golf, wintering in Florida, playing cards, or going out for meals.

"A lot of widows never stop talking about their husbands. How they miss them. How hard life is without their beloved spouses," according to my aunt. In a discreet whisper, she added, "I knew a lot of the husbands when they were alive, and confidentially they weren't that great. Neither were the marriages."

I've found this to be true, generally. My grandmother lobbed grenades of sarcasm at my grandfather, the sweetest, gentlest man in the world, on a daily basis. According to her, he couldn't get anything right. But when he was gone, he was posthumously transformed into a saint. She never remembered one negative thing about him. If she did, she didn't mention it.

Can I just wonder whether these widows who parade their grief are entirely sincere? I know one or two widows who had great marriages, and they seem to have the grace to go on with life. It must be tough, but if they feel sad or lonely they put on a cheerful face, and do any mourning they must feel in private.