Entry 6:

Dear J,

Just occurred to me that I have a platform here and, though a bit late, can espouse my fave interpretation of Clinton's sex life, first proposed to me by a novelist who used to be a nurse.

Let us follow through for a moment, just for argument, Paula Jones' contention that the Presidential Peter is a bit bent. If true, that would be a symptom of Peyronie's Disease, a fairly common condition of middle-aged men that (I quote from the Merck Manual here) "usually results in deviation of the erect penis to the involved side, occasionally causes painful erections, and may prevent intromission." In other words, no long, langorous sessions of lovemaking for the afflicted. In fact, what often works best for the Peyronie's sufferer, as means of achieving orgasm, is fellatio.

So, what if Clinton is haunted by sexual dysfunction? What if he is disinclined to consummate the act not because the Bible forbids him to but because he can't? What if, flirting with his old sexual competency with a bright young staff member--but only flirting, because the door is open, and anyhow he has no plans for sex--he hopes to sneak up on, surprise his own desire, not watch the kettle boil? What if Hillary knows about this--as surely she would--and loves him but is tired, as any longstanding wife would be, no less one as busy as the first lady? But understands, because she knows how her husband's passionate people-person-ness has always had a physical component (he is always touching, touching), and she's empathetic with his frustration.

The irony! A man haunted by impotence being condemned as a devil-may-care swaggerer, no better than Hugh Grant and his whore!

We need to hear from some physicians, but I suspect that Viagra's fabled vaso-flooding, or whatever-it's-called, would be contraindicated for the Peyronie's sufferer.

This is, mind you, just a theory.

I would like to register my dismay with the many intelligent people I know who, during the whole endless travail, claimed they "could tell" what the Clinton's marriage was like. Back to your distinction between public and private: No one can tell what their marriage is like. As one witty chum of mine put it, "I can't even tell what my own marriage is like, and I've been living in it for a quarter of a century."

That is, after all, precisely why we need fiction.

Love,
Lisa