CLINTON WEEKEND: SHOULD AULD RELEVANCE BE FORGOT ...

Byline: Joseph Honig

IT'S nice to know that while most of us celebrated New Year's with friends, colleagues and neighbors of negligible wealth or influence, Bill Clinton and 1,500 members of his American meritocracy - sharpshooters in government, media, finance and industry - were afoot in an exclusive South Carolina resort for their annual, invitation-only, Renaissance Weekend.

And because of friendship and coincidence, and maybe because his wife runs one of our nation's largest ad agencies, it happened that my pal Joe walked among those fortunate revelers at Hilton Head.

``A long way for a kid from northeast Philadelphia,'' I remarked upon learning his holiday destination. ``Maybe there's an ash tray or golf tee or commemorative umbrella in it for me when you get back.''

``We'll see,'' my friend said. ``We'll see.''

Most of all, I was hungry for news of our esteemed opinion leaders at leisure and play. Did tennis courts crackle with postmodern solutions to welfare, homelessness, drug abuse? Were soaring notions passed alongside the hors d'oeuvres? Did these reportedly leftward leaders break down, in private, over contemporary liberalism's failures to set national passions aflame?

``Really can't tell you,'' my friend advised upon his return. ``Can't really say.

``You'll maybe write something and the wife and I won't be invited back.''

Renaissance Weekend, it turns out, is strictly off the record. Highly confidential. A cloistered, hush-hush, new-wave Bohemian Grove retreat for the Volvo and Explorer set.

And I didn't get my ash tray.

(I also didn't get to rub elbows with an omnibus of popular icons as diverse as Judge Joseph Wapner, sexuality doyenne Ruth Westheimer or former Olympic gold medalist Edwin Moses. But who's complaining?)

Accordingly, because my own New Year's was so much less than intellectually awakening - a game of pool, a movie, some pasta and Chianti - I have resolved this day to invite a better class of achiever - maybe a hundred or so of those who joined the Clintons - to meet my humble set next December for an eye-opening series of programs and seminars never before experienced by the cultural elite.

Nondisclosure agreements won't be necessary.

Because maybe those wrestling with our global economy possess revolutionary thoughts on refinancing one's credit cards.

Because Renaissance Weekend co-founder, Small Business Administration head Philip Lader, might hold the key to my neighbor Lou's vision of mass marketing his wife's potato pancakes (proposed brand name - Thanks a Latkes)?

And because so many forward thinkers, men and women obsessed with the changing American workplace, might, once and for all, help officials of my daughter's soccer league decide on compensation packages for part-time referees.

What could we, you ask, a clutch of ordinary, medium and nonachievers, offer our high-profile guests in return?

You mean besides learning labs on those notorious supermarket scanners? Philosophies for tipping at the car wash? Reasons why the Internet still pales in entertainment value when compared to ``Roseanne'' and ``Seinfeld''?

Maybe not one hell of a lot?

But then again, it might do those who would sell us soap and substance a world of good to see, first-hand, a living example of the American middle class outside the confines of a focus group.

Before it vanishes.

Before this great, radical, experiment of a society becomes, indeed, a house divided - the very rich, the very poor - and many of those Hilton Head celebrants come to view their own modest beginnings with nostalgia instead of reverence.