The American Spectator

I love Greenville.

The plane flight was fine. I slept the entire way. But we got out at the A gates at Dulles. Those are far, far away from baggage claim. Alex and I had to walk for a long time, take seven elevators, and get tired as heck to collect our bags.

Dulles is a nightmare from which I am trying to escape.

My dwellings at the Watergate were fine, though. My cable TV is not working, but what else is new? I love it here. Well, actually, there are a number of maintenance problems here. But I love it here anyway. Being here reminds me of my parents. My mother used to follow me down the hall and then down the elevator, staring at me the whole time. Now, I do that to Alex and she does that to me. When we are gone, will Kitty do that to Tommy? Kitty is Tom’s wife and very devoted, but will she follow him down the hall? I hope so.

Saturday

THE DAY FOR A HAIRCUT. Excellent at the Watergate Barber Shop, world’s best barber shop. I read an editorial in the Washington Post pooh-poohing the Benghazi cover-up, saying that looking into it was pointless. After all, the event already happened. Who cares about a cover-up?

WHAT????? The Washington Post is saying a presidential cover-up is pointless? Quick, tell Ben Bradlee. Tell the Pulitzer Prize committee. Tell Sam Ervin’s ghost. Tell that Judge Sirica.… Hey! We at the Post made a mistake. White House cover-up investigations are pointless. We apologize to Richard Nixon and B.B. Haldeman and John Ehrlichman and Chuck Colson. We made a boo-boo.

What a bunch of crap. What sad, sad people those scoundrels are. Well, politics. It all comes back to legal realism. People just have their own prejudices and then cloak them with righteous, seemingly righteous, righteous-sounding “neutral principles” (phrase learned from Robert Bork), but they are really just prejudices. Then they call it logic and precedent. But it’s just prejudices. There is political and economic realism, too.

Well, onward and upwad.

Alex and I went to the fabulous Lichtenstein exhibit at the National Gallery of Art. Glorious. Beyond belief glorious. We saw it in Chicago a few months ago, but here it is just as wonderful. See it if you possibly can. Lichtenstein speaks to me. I cannot stand abstract art, but photorealism and comic book art work well for me. “I would rather see a painting of a dog I know than all of the abstract art in the world,” said Samuel Johnson. Brilliant as always. (That is a paraphrase.)

Afterward we went for Vietnamese food in Georgetown. We sat by the window. I watched the people go by. So many beautiful Irish girls, from Georgetown University, I assumed. So cute and sweet-looking. They remind me of my sweet colleen, Pat, from long, long ago. Also, many Asians. There seem to be more Asians everywhere every day. I love it. They are a spectacular people. All people at their best are spectacular. At their worst, when they are calling murder “choice,” they are not so good. But Asians—wow, can they cook, in every way. Academics, food, looks. Impressive people. Look at what China and Korea have been through and look at them now. Look at what Indochina has been through and still it is booming. These are astonishing people.

Wednesday

WOW. I stayed up way too late last night watching the Obama and Romney speeches. Mr. Romney’s was the best I ever saw him give. I feel so bad for him. He is suffering so terribly that he must be in agony. Tonight, he was gracious and even a bit emotional. I am sorry he made so many mistakes during the campaign. But a man near the top of the Romney campaign told me very recently that there just were not many experienced, talented, smart people to choose from for a GOP presidential campaign. It showed in many different ways. Mr. Romney really has to blame himself, though. He could have won this election in the third debate, but he backed off. I knew he would for sure lose after that. Well, agree with your opponent in a debate in haste, repent at leisure.

As for Mr. Obama, he gave a fine speech. It was way too long and included too much kowtowing to various special interests, but that’s how politics works. I liked it when he praised his daughters but told them they could not have more than one dog. But why? The Nixons had three dogs: King Timahoe, Pasha, and Vicki. I remember them all well. I used to walk them when Julie was out of town.

Of course, Obama’s promises about healing the sick and raising the dead are all nonsense, too, because the government is simply not going to be able to solve everyone’s problems. That’s up to us people. We have to solve our problems. I guess Obama hinted at that and good for him.