It’s an old-fashioned summer on Cape Cod: sharks on the prowl, beaches closed and “glassy-eyed” Kennedys brawling with cops, under arrest and in protective custody.
This time it was Max Kennedy, age 52, and his pouty 22-year-old daughter, Caroline Rose.
You’ve heard of Bring Your Daughter to Work Day? For the Kennedys last weekend, it was Bring Your Daughter to Jail Night.
Greater love hath no daughter than to try to pull open the door of a Barnstable police cruiser to spring dear old dad out of the back seat after he’s been lugged for, well, acting like a Kennedy.
Let’s go straight to her booking. This is from the report of the watch commander, Sgt. Jason Laber.
“I observed the female to slur her words and had glassy bloodshot eyes.”
It’s a family tradition.
“She was unsteady on her feet and was dirty (dirt on knees and feet). During the process, I asked her if she would like to have a breathalyzer. She refused and said, No. I’m drunk … I know that.’”
By the way, those are the italics of the Barnstable PD. I guess Camelot really is over.
The watch commander shrugs and tells Miss Kennedy she’s going into a cell if she doesn’t cooperate. Drunk and dirty as she is, as Kennedy as she is, Caroline Rose suddenly decides to come clean. Cue the italics, please.
“She responded by telling me her name was ‘Caroline Rose Kennedy.’ She continued, ‘I went to Brown and I’m a teacher — sweetheart!’ She stuck her tongue out and repeatedly told me to ‘bleep off’ during booking. She cried and now asked if this would affect her job.”
By the way, she also told the watch commander that “she did not know it was against the law to open a police car’s door.”
You really learned a lot at that la-de-da Ivy League school, didn’t you, sweetheart?
Now, I suppose this latest “traditional Kennedy weekend” could have been worse. The rented house at 172 Irving Ave. was trashed — loud partying, beer cans in the yard, throwing firecrackers off the pier, etc.
But look on the bright side of this Kennedy keg party. No women were raped, drowned, crippled or beaten to death with a golf club. There were no Skakels lurking in a tree outside, and no waitress sandwiches. No small Kennedy children were set on fire and not a single member of the family overdosed.
Then there was Caroline’s father, Max. He ran for Congress once, in 2001, for Joe Moakley’s seat. He made bizarre speeches, giggled at inappropriate moments and talked as if Whizzer White were still on the Supreme Court.
Here’s the thing about Max Kennedy last weekend. Down at the station house, he volunteered to take the breath test, and blew a .00. In other words, he hadn’t had a drink. But here’s how the Barnstable cops described him:
“I observed Kennedy to have noticeably blood-shot and glassy eyes and he was sweating profusely during our conversation. … He appeared to be very unsteady on his feet and his movements were erratic …”
But he hadn’t had any alcohol. Hmmmmm. Back to the report, as Max attempts to stop the cops from coming into the party house.
“Kennedy responded by now screaming incoherently and throwing himself at the wall. When he hit the wall, he grabbed a wall cabinet (filled with glass valuables) and threw it smashing the contents.”
Is it possible Max was looking for his eclipse glasses … or his shot glasses?
“During our struggle with Kennedy, I observed that we were surrounded by everyone in the room. They were yelling, ‘You don’t know who you’re messing with.’ ”
Which is just another way of saying, “Do you know who I am?”
Buy Howie’s new book, “Kennedy Babylon,” at howiecarrshow.com.
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