Entry 2:

Hi Sweetie,

(Note my use of "Sweetie" rather than your bogus "Honey." "Honey" is an endearment you've never directed toward me in real life. Please don't start now.)

I love your idea for It's a Wonderful Death, though I am a bit worried about what comes after the closing credits. When the has-been recovers the will to live, he surely will launch a revival tour, to remind all his old fans that England's Most Famous Choirboy has still got the pipes. Frankly, that is the last thing we need: another has-been who thinks he still is. Wouldn't the world be a better place if The Who never reunited? Or if Rick Springfield had remained in VH1's "Where are they now?" file, rather than taking "Jesse's Girl" on a nationwide tour of county fairs. I say, let the has-beens jump.

The not-so-Manic Monday story that caught my eye--the picture that caught my eye, actually--was the shot of Al Gore on the front page of the New York Times. According to the caption, he was singing "The Tennessee Waltz," accompanied by an accordionist and some sort of barbershop quartet. This picture highlights one of my pet peeves about the phony populism of modern campaigns: American presidential candidates prove their fitness for office by doing all the things they would never do in office. The campaign is an exercise in anti-governance. Hence, we have the spectacles of Gore harmonizing and George W. Bush flipping pancakes at a diner, sledding (?), and bowling. Candidates eat at regular folks' restaurants, shake regular folks' hands, and spend lots of time reading to elementary school kids. Presidents never do any of this, and for good reason. It's a waste of time. The mundane activities supposedly prove that the candidate is just a regular guy. But you know what? I don't want a regular guy for president. George W. shouldn't be wasting his morning flipping pancakes: He should be learning the difference between IBM and an ICBM. Give them back their dignity!

I seem to be less outraged by this Wyly fellow than my colleagues. Or rather, I am not terribly outraged that some Friend of Dubya is spending zillions of dollars on nasty anti-McCain ads. The only thing that bothers me is that Wyly and the Bush campaign tried to keep it all secret. I belong to the Fresh Air School of campaign-finance reform: I have no objections to a candidate being owned by his rich friends: I just want to know who is paying and how much.

William Safire made all the Wyly Coyote jokes you can imagine in his column this morning. (As for your question: I identify with the coyote. And you?) As he worked himself up into a fret about Wyly, Safire predicted that McCain would take the popular vote in California. Our friend Ben has a theory that Safire's predictions are an infallible guide to American politics: Safire is always wrong. Hence, let us congratulate Bush on his California victory. 

Happy Birthday, incidentally. As you and all other stock-owning Americans surely know, Alan Greenspan turns 74 today. Now if we can only keep him going to age 109, our retirement will be secure!

Love,
Sweetie

P.S. Are those very prominent Catholics still with us?