Duff Rebuffed; Yeltsin Struts
Massa Honey--but of course your role in life is to cheer me up. And
it has taken only four days to convince you. Perhaps I should run for
something.
Couldn't agree more that the four guys looking the strongest wouldn't be
disasters ... well, maybe three. Not sure about Bush making his bones as the
education president, either. As for ESPN transmitted directly to the brain, if
you think that's a good idea, then you need reeducating. As for
considering Lasik, the laser eye surgery, I think it works only for one of the
-sighted difficulties: near- or far-. But it is effective. However ... I love
the way glasses look. If glasses are your trademark, you may want to think
twice before ditching them. I mean, without them, you might be just one more
nondescript handsome guy.
Just before I push away from the Breakfast Table, you should know that the
latest, online, is that the old drunk, I mean the Russian president, "reminded"
Clinton that Moscow has a nuclear potential. Yeltsin is also cozying up to the
Chinese head of state, Jiang Zemin. They and their wives met for a "family
dinner" in Beijing. Think the women had a lot to say to each other? Think there
was alcohol served? Also on the wires--if you can believe it--is that Ms. Duff
was rebuffed (shall we now call that being "reduffed"?) by a New York State
Supreme Court judge in her bid to be awarded more than $100,000 A MONTH in
child support from Ron Perelman. It seems that their child, Caleigh (what kind
of name is that, anyway), will not get her mother's requested $130,000
playroom. The way I washed that taste out of my mouth was to follow some
coverage of the thousands of mourners for the six Worcester firefighters. It
makes the world seem a more admirable place when you consider that there are
good and selfless people with values and heart. And I found it enormously
touching that firefighters came from all over the country. It is, indeed, a
brotherhood of bravery.
Alas, I do not know of your Charles Barkley. Alben I do remember. When it
comes to sports, I am, shall we say, not present. Some might say non compos. I
have asked Sam Snead and Bob Cousy what they did for a living, and at my
first Blackhawks game it took me 40 minutes to realize they players were on
skates. Which is why our leader, M. Kinsley by name, no doubt asked me to be
the advice columnist for
Slate
, as opposed to the sportswriter.
And it is to my more serious Dear Prudence persona that I now return. I shall
miss the opportunity to be flip about the day's happenings, and I shall
particularly miss being joined at the modem to you, Massa Honey. I'll be
rooting for you in your yearlong quest for the perfect political story.
xxM.
