Subway Tutors for Hillary.
* Find a secure four-bedroom apartment with two and a half baths, parking, a fireplace, and a view of Central Park for around $1,500. Maybe on the East Side near Bloomies. FedEx Chelsea a key, but not him.
* Get sixteen courtside seats for the Knicks. Find out who they play and what the deal is. Hint: Get Mandy to debrief Spike Lee. What else is going on? Football, or that thing on ice with sticks?
* Find someone we can trust who can decipher what the hell Sharpton is talking about. See about fast-tracking him a temporary ambassadorship to some small nation far, far away.
* Double-check to make sure security detail includes no off-duty New York City cops. Call our buddies at the Arkansas Highway Patrol.
* Need two subway tutors, and a couple of off-island translators.
* Opposition research. Where's Rudy's soft spot? Besides the top of his head, that is.
* Get Woody Allen to do a fundraiser, but keep him the hell away from Chelsea.
* The five boroughs are Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Richmond. What the hell is Richmond? Throw me a bone, people.
I guess since the Knicks made it to the NBA finals on the shoulders of Latrell Sprewell, and that means coach Jeff Van Gundy keeps his job, you could say Sprewell saved his coach's neck.
Recently on Air Force One, William Jefferson Clinton idly mentioned to the press corps assembled nearby, "If I could run again, I would." Well, he can't. It's not that we don't want him to. No, no. Would that he could run again and again and again until he's as old and wrinkled as a sarcophagus, or looks like Bob Dole, whichever comes first. It's that goshdarned Twenty-Second Amendment preventing it. But lovable old Brillo Head will only be fifty-five years old when he retires. And there are plenty of ways he could cash in after eight years of what some marketers consider a high-profile position:
* A series of guest appearances on Veronica's Closet.
* Check out Playboy's party school issue and gang apply to be president of every institution in the top ten.
* Write a book revealing all the stuff he thought was right was wrong, and all the stuff we thought was wrong was.
* Enroll in a Pavlovian training course to learn how to curtsy every time he hears himself referred to as "the Senator's husband."
* As a fallback position, have his successor appoint him Ambassador to Sweden. Or have his good friend, the president of show business Steven Spielberg, grease the skids to have him take over as costume designer on Baywatch.
New York City mayor Rudolph Giuliani refused a permit for Talk magazine's big party because they were going to honor cover girl Hillary Clinton. The New York Post headline said it all: Party Pooper.
We're destined to hear about this artificial altercation for the next sixteen months, but I beg you to forgive me for getting the jump on the respectable media rabble by sugaring the gas tank of the bandwagon before it leaves Union Station. Of course, I am referring to the fight between "compassionate conservatism" being flakked by George W., and the "pragmatic idealism" of Prince Albert. Each clings to his pale attempt at a colorizing lifeline theme. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't both of these cute, poll-tested soundbite maxims more chock-full of internal logic glitches than a sunblock sponsorship of the Carslbad Caverns by Pokey the Petrified Mule?
Our next Presidential election promises to feature these electoral Mobius machinations. The oxymoron daily double. Like me, you must be wondering what other two-word, self-canceling campaign keynotes are available for the marginal flotsam candidates to scrounge for.
I'm glad you asked. Here's Will Durst's 2000 election strategies for the guys and gals who have a better chance of catching a cab in the rain at 5:00 P.M. on Times Square dressed as a homeless person with running sores than of raising any significant money, but won't quit until they've dragged their personal national recognition factor kicking and screaming over the indistinct Vice Presidential consideration status line. No need to thank me, I'm here to help:
Rational bureaucrat. Libertarian enforcer. Benevolent sniper. Hippie hawk. Responsive legislator. Principled attorney. Egoless comedian ...
Will Durst may have told you more than you need to know. Again.
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|Title Annotation:||a New York to-do list for Hillary Clinton|
|Article Type:||Brief Article|
|Date:||Aug 1, 1999|
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