Dear Bill:

Yeah, I suppose it has been a long time. Then again, we've both been pretty busy lately, and besides you're getting ready to move, which definitely takes a lot out of a person. I still haven't unpacked some stuff from 1996 yet.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I can appreciate this wanting to leave something for the next generations to remember you by and all that, but there's really a practical limit to how much you can get done. That Middle Eastern stuff? Forget about it. You'd have better luck trying to sell a merger between Coke and Pepsi. If you really wanted some semblance of peace, you'd send them Kathie Lee Gifford for a week and tell them if they didn't shape up, you were going to advise Dubya to make it two weeks. And anyway, "legacy", in these days of ever-higher tech, mostly means "something too old to support anymore". If you don't believe me, ask Larry Ellison at Oracle, if you can catch him between dates.

Oh, and speaking of dating, I know you're anxious to get back into the scene and all, but I shouldn't have to remind you what happened last time, so I won't. Besides, Babs is married, and don't even think about Anna Nicole Smith unless you've gotten your Visa limit raised. (Then again, you shouldn't have a problem with that, now that the missus finally got herself a day job.)

But I want you to know, I'm serious about this history thing, Bill. I mean, it's you and Andrew Jackson from now until eternity, and everyone knows it. Not that you should give a crap at this late date. I mean, nobody expects you to toss out an Eric Cartmanesque "Screw you guys, I'm going home," but there are Democrats who are never going to forgive you for playing to the center, and for all I know, there are Republicans who haven't forgiven Mussolini for dying too soon, so your name is going to be a four-letter word for some time to come. Truthfully, I'm still a little miffed, but it could be just envy; hell, I never get to see anything in a blue dress anymore.

Anyway, I know you're kind of pressed for time, so I won't keep you. Just remember to keep your chin up and your quotes out of Rolling Stone, and everything will work out just fine. And do keep in touch; the vast right-wing conspiracy would just die without you, and there'd be no reason to watch cable news except for the babes.

See ya in the funny pages,

The Vent

17 January 2001

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 Copyright © 2001 by Charles G. Hill