A week in Washington — ending up in Century City.
On American Flight 144 to Dulles. I have many errands in D.C. and the area. I’ll tell you about them soon.
The man next to me in row 6 was a middle-aged fellow with thick glasses. He reminded me of a younger version of Dr. Eldon Tyrell, inventor of the replicants and their brains in Blade Runner. Not quite normal, and a bit off base in his comments to me. Like many annoying people, he started off his interaction with me by saying, “I know I’ve seen you before but I can’t think where.”
“TV,” I said. “I am on all of the time.”
“I don’t watch TV,” said this man, like many another annoying people before him.
He told me his story. His father was a Czech Jewish man who was an ardent Zionist and emigrated to “Palestine” before World War II. He lived on a commune, a kibbutz, but the kibbutz foundered when its engine — a single cow — died.
So, my neighbor’s father joined an Israeli rebel brigade similar to the Irgun. Then, after Independence and fighting in all of Israel’s wars, the dad came to New York and lived in a Hasidic, ultra-orthodox neighborhood in Brooklyn. My neighbor went to an ultra-orthodox Jewish day school, then went off to college to study to be an engineer. He said he was the first in his school to go to college. The others went into their parents’ business or else started their own businesses. “They made more money than I did until I became a partner at Blank, a huge consulting firm.”
I wondered how he knew how much money they made but I just said, “I am about my father’s business.”
“Really?” he asked me. “What was your father’s business?”
“Just a line from the New Testament,” I said. “My father was not in business.”
I went to sleep for a very long time. My neighbor does not eat airplane food because he is strictly Kosher and for other reasons he did not divulge. He offered me his meal. I declined but thanked him. The meal was not worth eating. A pitifully dry, tasteless chicken.
When I awoke, we were nearing Dulles. The man asked me, “Are you Jewish?”
“Of course,” I answered. “Don’t I look Jewish?”
”You quoted the New Testament,” he said.
“I don’t know what to say. There is a lot of wisdom in it.”
He man smiled cleverly and said, “I looked you up when you were sleeping. You’re quite a controversial guy.”
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?