OK, Beam, summer is now officially over. (Though to be honest, I am still in the New Hampshire woods–just me, the Doc, and the loons.) In the spirit of the day I offer you some oddments as we ease our way into a businesslike, grown-up’s Fall and try to get serious.
The current American Bar Association Journal takes a gratuitous swipe at Larry Tribe–because he “insisted on a $10,500 charter flight to bring him in to argue part of the State’s case.” The case being Florida’s anti-tobacco law, argued in their Supreme Court. Well, surely they didn’t expect him to hop a Delta with God knows who in the next seat.
On a lighter note (or maybe not) the Globe and Mail talks about the trial of a dominatrix charged with operating a “bawdy house.” (Those Brits have such jolly appellations.) The defendant’s defense is that spanking and humiliation do not constitute sex. Also, the only time her girls are allowed to even touch testicles is to tie them up for a bondage ritual. This, of course, makes me think of the saying, “No sex, please, we’re British.”
I’m into Steal This Dream, Larry Sloman’s book about Abbie Hoffman. I don’t know that I would have been interested had I not gone to Brandeis with Abbie. (He was two or three years ahead of me.) I saw quite a bit of him during the Conspiracy 7 (or 8) Trial in Chicago, when I had a newly minted press pass and was annexed to Tony Lukas, who was covering for the Times.
But my first memories of Abbie are wildly divergent from the man who inhabits most of this book. He often wore tennis whites, drove a Corvette, sold submarine sandwiches in the girls’ dorms, and played gin rummy with me for money. (I usually lost; he made me pay up.) It was truly amazing to watch him develop and/or unravel.
Speaking of which, the drama du jour is unquestionably what’s gonna happen with “That” President, Mr. Clinton. (The kid with Walter Winchell’s hat, Drudge, has a reader poll that shows the option of resignation waaay out in front.) And now, to coin a phrase, I think I’ll hit the road and head for Boston and the Fall. All in all, not a bad combination. And if you’re in touch, thank that nice Mike Kinsley for brunch.