The Breakfast Table

Christians for the Cloning of Christ

So Margo–how was dinner? I had a girlfriend whose mother warned her about accepting dinners from men; “They’ll try to squeeze it out of you afterwards.” Sound advice.

What did you miss? I really don’t know. We had to pack three children off to three different schools for the first time this morning. (I begged my wife not to have that third child. I even wrote an op-ed column opposing the idea. I practiced Clintonian abstinence … well, he’s a delight, but three schools are too many. Since you and I toddled off to the nuns they’ve invented something called middle school, essentially a sump for rebellious adolescents. But I digress.)

I get two papers at home, the Globe and the Wall Street Journal, so I’ll try to brief you. The market’s back; you knew that. Did your broker call? I don’t have a broker, but I gather a quick condolence message would have been appropriate on Monday. God knows what Clinton and Yeltsin are up to.

Two (well, three) quick gems: The Federal Election Commission “is suing Steve Forbes for the value of magazine columns he wrote while campaigning for President.” This is great. I’m fascinated by valuations; rather macabrely, I’ve written two columns called “The Price of a Lifetime” about how lawyers and airlines dicker over the costs of lives lost in crashes. So I must find out what price the FEC assigns to Forbes’ columns. I value mine at about $1000 per column; what’s a Steve Forbes column (inane as they are) worth? $10,000? $40,000? I want to know.

And are they going after Pat Buchanan? What about Dave Barry, who ran for president, unsuccessfully, twice?

Also, great Dick Morris letter to the editors of the Wall Street Journal. “I never called Hillary a lesbian”–I could see that headline in the Star or the supermarket Globe, our evil twin.

And in the real Globe? I can shamelessly hype my own column, which for the first–and I suspect, the last–time mentions Christians for the Cloning of Christ. They have their own web site; they must be real. More on this subject later, perhaps.

Miss you, Alex