Thank God for CBS News!!! CNN has flushed itself so far down the toilet, poor Martin Savage is now in a submersible trying to find his bosses!!!
>>> AND WHAT A GREAT WAY IT WAS TO START TODAY:
1.
David Baldacci released a new novel today -- THE TARGET, but not only is he a hunk (and straight), but he said some important things about writing (like he starts with CHARACTERS, not plot), and then I found this about his MOST WORTHY philanthropy with his wife, Michelle:
Click it to clear any interference from the right. (Note, too, that he says HALF the population of the United States is ILLITERATE -- does he mean Republicans or Democrats???)
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2.
White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations Alyssa Mastromonaco is resigning, after working for Barack Obama for eight years.
GOD, I would love to be in her head . . . and her LOYALTY, especially, reminded me of ME when I worked for Tennessee Williams.
It is no secret that I have little trust for President Obama -- most of the problem being his being blackmailed over his homosexual past (and present -- if you include Reggie Love), to protect the Republican Party and CIA/NSA's massive drug importation business.
All news reports I have seen claim that George W. Bush handed off the "Opium Football" to Obama at his first Inauguration -- a SURPRISE to The Bammer -- as well as that Bush told him THEN they had the proof of his gay life and BLACK Christians, especially, would SKIN HIM ALIVE if they ever found out.
Obama doesn't actually have to COME OUT GAY, he could just tell his blackmailers to TAKE A FLYING LEAP -- and then be prepared for the worst (disclosures about his sexual past). Michelle has known about it for a long time, and the girls are old enough to have, or gain, perspective now.
Besides, Republicans are FOREVER getting caught in gay scandals -- and I've SEEN scans of the Police Citations of Newt Gingrich for soliciting sex with men in Atlanta parks right after he graduated college -- SOMEONE has some originals, no???
Deep down, I have always suspected Obama will find a way to right all this, but the jury is still out . . .
* * *
>>> BUT LEAVING POLITICS ASIDE . . .
Ms. Mastromonaco spoke of the privilege of having met the Pope, so many Heads of State, and Nelson Mandela, and I had a similar experience while working for Tennessee Williams, so I thought it would be fun to paste in part of that time surrounding the 1981 Kennedy Center Honors. We begin, with sharing a cab from the Watergate Hotel to the State Department Dinner with Senor Who's-Afraid-of-Virginia-Woolf, himself, Mr. Edward Albee -- you might think of him and Tennessee as being two heads of state. Albee looked about like this, then:
From my memoir: (In red is added by me, now -- and YES, this was as intimate as the conversation got.)
At the taxi stand, we chanced on Edward Albee and decided to share a cab. Tennessee took the front seat as Albee and I climbed into the rear. My head pressed against the ceiling, and my knees angled over the hump at the center. The conjunction of friendliness and competition produced a halting cross-talk between the playwrights. Tennessee repeatedly pivoted, facing forward and then turning back to speak. Each time he faced forward, Albee looked at me as if he were sizing up prey.
“I insist they book me on Eastern,” Tennessee said, turning toward us again, “The food is better.”
“Hmmm . . . “ said Albee.
As Tennessee turned back in his seat, Albee‘s knee brushed mine. I drew in a breath. He did not know that the best friend of my first lover in college had dated him for several months— and had lived to tell. (Sjell was the name of Albee’s Scandinavian lover – and he had told my friend Jeff Work ALL ABOUT Albee as a lover.)
I returned a thin smile—Mona Lisa, the boss‘s boy.
Tennessee turned to the back again, and then he turned further and stared at me.
* * *
>>> BUT FEAR NOT!!! I have a more salacious story to tell from that State Department Dinner for the Kennedy Center Honors, Tennessee and I sitting opposite at the round Head Table for ten -- with a huge bouquet of lilies and mums creating a massive blockage in the center. And our table also included Audrey Hepburn as Mistress of Ceremonies (next to Tennessee), and I was flanked on the left by Juanita Kreps (who had been the Commencement Speaker when I graduated Denison University in 1973), on right, by the wife of the CEO of ARCO (Atlantic Richfield Company, the primary financial sponsor -- which as a major block of the former Standard Oil was then controlled by my wealthy Kenan relatives, ENTIRELY unbeknownst to me then), her husband sat on the other side of Audrey, whose up-swept hair had a sort of crown of gilded leaves flying from thin wire standards.
Audrey Hepburn that night -- with Rob Wolders.
During the interval between the meal and the presentation of awards, I got up from the table and stretched discreetly, feeling the relief in my legs. Tennessee rushed over.
“She must have been drinking!” he said.
“Who, Audrey?”
“Maureen!” He rocked on his feet like a child.
“Maureen? I haven‘t seen. . . . Stapleton?”
“Shh!” His finger up, he pulled me further from the table.
“Maureen,” he said, “She came right up to the table—to Audrey.”
“When?”
“Just now—a minute ago. She barged right in.” He could barely get it out. “She says— right there—right to Audrey . . . ‘You‘re the most goddamn elegant cunt in the place . . . so relax!‘”
“No!”
“She did—I swear it.”
“Well . . . did she?”
“What?”
“Did it relax her?”
“Oooo!” he howled. “I‘ll have to go back and see. She couldn‘t be more nervous. Those wires in her head are conducting something—very Bride of Frankenstein.”
“OK,” I said, “Keep an eye on her—and rescue her from that ARCO guy. I‘m headed for the loo.”
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Now, don't eat or drink too much, tonight.
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