Moniker Lewinsky is veeery funny. Mind if I borrow that? Whoops, sore subject. On to the next…
I hope you’ll take me with you if you go on any talk shows to trash all this dead Princess carrying on. (I was happy to see you’re a Charles man. He’s the good-looking version of my first husband.) If those show offers do come, we can take Christopher Hitchens with us. He is wickedly funny, mean, and brittle as hell. And I love him. He’s singing our tune this very minute in Salon.
Now there is a word, you should know, to refer to Diana-lovers. It’s Dianaianists. I would have just said Dianistas, but no one asked. Anyway, the Lucia Flecha de Lima whose name you were ho ho ho’ing about, is the wife of a South American Ambassador. (Brazil?) Maybe we should introduce them to the Swetts…
Did you know that a musical, tentatively called “Queen of Hearts,” is Broadway bound? Some of the lyrics are floating around. Example: Diana, on her wedding day, looks at Camilla and sings, “What if he still loves her? What if it’s all a sham?”
(I would have struck the word “all” for meter, but again, nobody asked.) Camilla responds, in song, “I’ll show him I can wait, steadfast and true. I’ll be mistress of his heart, though my blood isn’t blue.”
OK, let’s talk about people who are alive–though maybe just barely. The Washington Post quotes an analyst as referring to the Clinton/Yeltsin meeting as “two corpses getting together.” Jeez, what is going on? Can’t those spin-yokels in the White House make anything come out right? Clinton needs to be there like a donkey needs lipstick.
And one more bummer: a social psychology professor named Kraut (don’t go there, Beam) has announced that many hours on the ‘Net make people depressed, stressed, and lonely. Uh-oh. Talk to you tomorrow after I’ve gone to a square dance, audited a class, taken a pottery class, and just generally mingled with some folks so I don’t get depressed.