Hillary's Underwear and Other Matters of State
            

            Massa Honey--

            Your plane ride sounds amazing. Were I you, I would've looked at it this
way: Nothing will happen to this plane, because the news value of a crash would
be too astounding. Are you old enough to remember Bishop Sheen? We were once on
the same aircraft--with several nuns--and I took that to be the same kind of
indemnity ... not the religious factor, the fame. This thinking is flawed, I
know, but that's the way my mind works. Or doesn't.

            I'm holding off reading the Times today, a mini-boycott--because
yesterday they made Nelson Rockefeller vice president in someone's obituary. He
wasn't, was he? If he was, I think I need to go back and read the Dean Acheson
book ...

            I love the Hillary and Chappaqua carryings on. Well, make that Hillary and
Chappaqua and Tina Brown. Seems that the editrix declared Hill a loser in her
intended race. Bet Hill's sorry, now, that she gave Tina her innermost
psychobabble for the premiere issue of Talk . As if being declared a
loser by a former sycophant weren't bad enough, the first lady was just
selected 1999's "Most Boring Celebrity" by the Boring Institute in Maplewood,
NJ. Not that they're a heavy-hitter group, but still ...

            My concerns about Chappaqua, however, are not political. They are concerns
any woman would have about moving into a new home. Will she be able to find her
underwear with all those boxes piled up? I know she intends to find it,
but you never know. And will she be given a good phone number--and will the
phone even work on the first day? I hate to say this, because it's politically
incorrect--at least in my circles--but you gotta love Lucianne. She (and a few
other reporters) implied that the White House equivalent of the store dick
ought to keep an eye on Hill so she doesn't try to furnish her house with
things from 1600 and Camp David.

            But just to show that I am not totally down on Hill, I hope that, like some
of the royals, she'll have a fling-a-ling with one of the bodyguards. God knows
the girl could use some, uh, well, whatever. What I really want is for the
Clintons to just go away. Far away. And quietly. Fat chance.

            xxM.