Clinton & Me

by Michael Graham

  There was plenty of comedy, too, including the banner reading WHEN IT COMES TO GUN SAFETY, MY HUSBAND’S AN IDIOT (what? He can’t work a trigger lock?) and a speech by one of the Kennedy clan in praise of Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

  As they say at Chappaquiddick: Oops!

  What was missing, alas, was math. Maybe the original talking Barbie was on to something with her observation “Math class is hard!” Maybe years of women practicing “whole math” on their ages and weights has taken its numerical toll. Whatever the case, the marching moms had real problems getting the numbers right.

  First, not only were there not a million moms, but the organizer’s reported figure of 750,000 marchers was greeted with audible snickers from every media outlet this side of Mother Jones. These exaggerations (what? Are you calling your mother a liar?) undermine the cause by raising questions about honesty and confirming the suspicion that the entire event was a Clinton-sponsored Hillary for Senate rally.

  Second, the gun violence statistics spoon-fed us by the earnest, if uninformed, moms ranged from poorly interpreted to wildly incorrect.

  For example, there’s the oft-repeated statement that “four thousand children are shot to death every year in America.” This is true, so long as you include nineteen-year-old gun-toting, gang-banging criminals as “children.” In fact, in 1997, the number of kids under fifteen who died from guns was less than six hundred, about half of which were accidents and suicides.

  Now, every death is a tragedy, and every death of a child is a newsworthy tragedy. But it is simply not the case that six hundred deaths among 270 million people is reason enough to gut the Bill of Rights, no matter how much Mom cries.

  Finally, there is one question that no one has yet been able to answer for me: How does refusing to defend your children from harm make you a better mom? These strident Rosie wanna-bes refuse to arm themselves and want to deny their neighbors that right, too. They are abdicating any responsibility for protecting their children from violence or threat of violence, and they are leaving their family’s fate, should the worst happen, solely in the hands of the police.

  Now, I understand that guns are nasty, as one marching mom’s banner announced, and many women are uncomfortable around firearms. But is the bravest, most dedicated mom the one who orders her husband to get rid of Grandpa’s old shotgun while she sends catty e-mails to Charlton Heston? Or is the best, bravest mom the one who overcomes her distaste for firearms and learns how to protect her family by unloading a fifteen-round clip in under ten seconds?

  Women seeking powerlessness, those co-dependent Clintonistas of the weekend rally, insist that owning guns merely makes things worse. “Guns in your home don’t protect you. More often than not, they hurt or kill a loved one,” Rosie insisted on a pre–Million Mom March Internet posting.

  Only one problem: It’s not true. According to Florida State University research, people who use a firearm to resist crime are half as likely to be injured as those who offer no resistance. Criminologist Gary Kleck estimates that guns are used more than two million times a year to deter or prevent crime.

  To me, the moms who learn to use guns, whether they are ever forced to use them or not, are heroes. They are defending both the Constitution and the more basic principle that parents must be responsible for the safety and well-being of their children.

  As for that other bunch of mothers at Gunstock, take a little advice from my mom: Just because everyone is doing it, that doesn’t make it right.

  Rudy, Rudy, Rudy

  * * *

  May 2000

  But Giuliani deserves credit for the kind of affairs he’s evidently had. Unlike the predatory Bill Clinton, who riffled through vulnerable women like playing cards and demanded mechanical servicing from them like nameless plumbers, Giuliani has conducted authentic, long-term relationships with mature, intelligent, feisty career women.

  —Camille Paglia, Salon

  But as a woman and a wife, I can say that long-standing affairs with women who become constant companions are clearly more threatening to a marital partnership than cheap and transitory sex.

  —Anna Quindlen, Newsweek, the same day

  Ladies, ladies, please: Make up your minds.

  Here I am, your typical married man with small children. In other words, a eunuch.

  Sure, I’d like to have sex. I’d love to have sex. I would pay to have sex, which is why the Warden (my wife) never lets me out of the house with more than $5 and a Captain D’s coupon.

  However, I have also taken a vow of chastity in the presence of a clergyman. It began, as I recall, with the question “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

  It is as a typical American married dad that I have been watching closely as typical American women debate the private naughtiness of their favorite public men. And I will confess: I am very, very confused.

  When Monica Mania swept American womanhood in 1998, I could almost feel the ideological plates shifting beneath our continent. Women such as Patricia Ireland, who demanded Clarence Thomas’ head for allegedly talking dirty to an employee, launched a foaming-at-the-mouth defense of President Clinton’s career as a sexual predator. It took less than a year for these hypocritical harpies to transform the National Organization for Women from a civil rights organization into the National Organization for Whores, working the talk show street corners for the Democratic Party.

  But it wasn’t just the NOW gang. More-sensible women joined in the defense of President Corona and his policy regarding “face time” with nubile White House staffers. They might not agree with Clinton, who recently said that his years at the White House have been “good for my marriage,” but many real-life women I know and usually respect found ways to let the president off the hook.

  During Monicagate, seemingly normal, typical married women began insisting that infidelity was “no big deal,” that “all men do it,” that such behavior was to be expected. However, when I volunteered to join the teeming ranks of my fellow men and start chasing slow-moving receptionists around my office, my wife let me know that she had extremely different expectations for her husband than for the rest of my species.

  Observing this contradictory debate, I learned a lesson about women and politics: Ideology trumps morality, at least when it comes to men.

  We are relearning this lesson with New York mayor Rudy Giuliani. The writer Anna Quindlen, a total Bill Clinton suck-up (pardon the pun), is not content to kick in Rudy’s head regarding his infidelity. She also has to offer a defense of President Clinton’s brand of adultery (high volume, low esteem) as preferred. To Quindlen, Bill Clinton’s habit of using the office help as sex toys is less troubling than Rudy Giuliani’s seemingly long-term emotional involvement with career women.

  It’s Anna Quindlen’s Motel 6 method to a long and happy marriage.

  By the way, Quindlen’s attack on Rudy Giuliani is entitled “When Private Behavior Isn’t” (answer: when it’s under oath before a federal judge and grand jury), which is itself a contradiction to her writings during the impeachment imbroglio.

  On the other end, politically speaking, is Camille Paglia, a tireless opponent of all things Clinton. In her column at the chick-friendly Web site Salonmagazine.com, Paglia weighs in on the Rudy story and finds a way to take yet another kick at the First Philanderer. She argues that Giuliani’s form of deceit is superior because it involves superior women. A roll in the hay at the No-Tell Motel is somehow shabbier than slipping into the coat closet with your executive vice president after a particularly steamy round of annual reports.

  Watching these two fight, we married men are left scratching our heads, if not our seven-year itches.

  It never occurred to us that the relationship between the married man and the sideline squeeze mattered. We—maybe it’s just a naive “I”—assumed that it was the relationship between the husband and wife that was the issue. Violating that trust, whether it was with Monica Lewinsky or with Margaret Thatcher,
would seem to be an inherently bad thing.

  When women articulate these more nuanced debates about which is the less offensive form of adultery, what their men hear is “Go get ’em, boys!” Give us an inch, and we’ll take the entire data entry department.

  There are always excuses for cheating. I just didn’t think there were any that women would actually accept. This is a whole new world. After all, ladies, if you’re looking for mitigating factors for philandering, Bill Clinton has the ultimate excuse for sleeping around—his wife. Being married to that tree-legged, tantrum-throwing, emasculating shrew puts a husband in the Jim Bakker class of cheaters as far as we men are concerned: None of the rest of us would sleep with Mrs. Clinton, either.

  So far, however, it appears that politics is the key. If your guy is naughty, it’s an understandable mistake. If the other team’s guy slips from the straight and narrow, hanging’s too good for him.

  And if the women of America are going to permit extramarital sex based on partisanship, all I’ve got to say is this: How can I get Anna Nicole Smith to join the Republican Party?

  Ouch! Just kidding, honey.

  The Million-Dollar Question

  * * *

  June 2000

  [Cue music. The camera pans as Regis enters stage left.]

  REEGE : Good evening, everyone, and welcome to ABC’s latest addition to America’s game show craze, Who Wants to Be a Limousine Liberal?

  [Applause. Cue lights. Dramatic techno-pop version of “Happy Days Are Here Again” plays as Regis takes his place at the console.]

  REEGE : Our first contestant tonight is a soccer mom from Irmo, South Carolina, Tara Barkwell! Welcome, Tara. Are you nervous?

  TARA : A little, I guess.

  REEGE : Well, don’t be. As many of you know, Tara is our first contestant under the terms of a settlement ABC reached with the National Organization for Women. They filed a formal complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission about the number of women making it to the final rounds of our little game here, and ABC has asked me to announce that we are pleased with the progress of the negotiations. Oh, and for those of you watching at home, next week’s contestant, a deaf mulatto lesbian dwarf, is already here in the audience. Let’s give her a round of applause.

  [Cue audience applause as a small brown hand reaches up from behind a seat to sign “Thanks, Regis.”]

  REEGE : You’re welcome! Now, Tara, here’s your first question on Who Wants to Be a Limousine Liberal?

  [Brief applause.]

  A church member is excommunicated for publicly criticizing his faith’s teachings on homosexuality. As a limousine liberal, should you support or oppose this parishioner’s excommunication?

  TARA : Well, I think it’s certainly wrong for Catholics who accept homosexuality to be punished for affirming the gay lifestyle, and I don’t think the church has the right to suppress unpopular opinions, so as a liberal, I oppose the excommunication.

  REEGE : Is that your final answer?

  TARA : Yes, Reege, it is.

  REEGE : I’m so sorry, Tara, but excommunication is the liberal’s answer.

  [Audience groan. Play dirgelike you’re-a-loser music.]

  Yes, Tara, the man kicked out of the very liberal Episcopal Church USA was anti-homosexuality activist Lewis Green of Asheville, North Carolina. He was banned from church property and denied the sacraments because he publicly opposed the church’s pro-homosexuality policies. Therefore, the right answer for a limousine liberal is: Ban the [bleep].

  [Audience laughter; more music.]

  TARA : Does this mean I lose?

  REEGE : Oh, no, Tara. Nobody loses on Who Wants to Be a Limousine Liberal? We believe in building self-esteem. Plus, our legal settlement with NOW gives you five more chances to win!

  TARA : But there are only four more questions. . . .

  REEGE : Wow! Math must really be your subject, Tara! Now let’s go to the next question. Tara, as a liberal, would you support or oppose investigating the personal sexual lives of political figures and using that information to attack their careers?

  TARA : I think what happened to President Clinton was awful! Those mean-spirited Republicans were on a sexual witch hunt that was unfair and unnecessary, and besides, I think Bill Clinton is cute. I’d do him!

  [Giggles, laughter from audience.]

  So digging up dirt on people’s sex lives is not a liberal thing to do. That’s my final answer.

  REEGE : Well, Tara, I’m afraid you’re wrong again! It was Clinton ally Tina Brown who paid $100,000 for a book outing homosexual staff members in Ken Starr’s office and revealing the personal sex lives of anti-Clinton journalists. I guess Kathie Lee’s glad Frank got out of broadcasting!

  [Laughter, more music.]

  Now let’s go to taxes. Tara, is it liberal to support regressive taxes that transfer money from poor black neighborhoods to affluent white suburbs?

  TARA : Oh, that’s a hard one. Can I use a lifeline? I’d like to call Democratic governor Jim Hodges of South Carolina.

  REEGE : Okay. AT&T, connect us to the governor’s mansion in Columbia, South Carolina.

  [Sound of phone picking up.]

  GOVERNOR : Huh? Hello?

  REEGE : Governor Hodges, this is Regis.

  GOVERNOR : Regis! How are ya, buddy? You tell that fine South Carolinian Vanna White I said hi.

  REEGE : Wrong show, Governor. Anyway, Tara is here with a question: Does a good liberal support regressive taxes that take from the urban poor and give to the suburban rich?

  HODGES : They do if they wanna get reelected, Tara. It’s called the lottery!

  TARA : I don’t know. That still doesn’t sound very liberal to me. We’re supposed to help poor people.

  REEGE : Oh, I’m so sorry, Tara. This just doesn’t seem to be your night. Liberals love the lottery because the money goes to help liberals! But don’t worry, we’ve still got the big-money lightning round. I’ll give you the ideological position, and you tell me if it’s conservative or liberal. Set the clock. Okay. Go.

  [Ticking clock begins.]

  Laws that treat people differently based on race.

  TARA : Racist laws? That’s not liberal.

  [Buzzer.]

  REEGE : Sorry, that’s wrong. Have you forgotten affirmative action? Next: Businesses using their advertising clout to keep unpopular opinions off the airwaves.

  TARA : Censorship? I’m against that, right?

  [Buzzer.]

  REEGE : Too bad, Tara. I’ve got two words for you: Dr. Laura.

  Well, Tara, time’s up for tonight. The bad news is, you missed every single question. The good news is that the questions have been deemed inherently sexist by our judges, so you are declared the winner by default!

  So congratulations, Tara, and good night, everybody! This is your ol’ buddy Reege reminding you that in the world of American liberalism, losers are always the big winners!

  My Life as a Fashion Plate

  * * *

  April 2000

  A vain man can never be utterly ruthless; he wants to win applause and therefore accommodates himself to others.

  —Goethe

  Through a series of coincidences, I have appeared on national television a dozen times or so in the past year. Being a media minor leaguer, it’s always flattering and exciting to play talking head with the big boys—my ideas, my opinions being bandied about on TV screens across the nation, influencing the media elite in New York, Washington, perhaps even the White House.

  Think about it: I, Michael Graham, lowly graduate of Pelion High, now a cable-network Cicero shaping the intellectual discourse of our great nation! And the reaction back home?

  “Don’t you own a tie?”

  The first call, the first accolade from a friend back home after my debut on ABC’s Politically Incorrect, and the very first comment out of his mouth is about my wardrobe?

  Sure, I own a tie, I told him. But I hate wearing ties, and it’s a late-nig
ht talk show, and I was wearing a sport coat, and anyway, what I really wanted to know was what he thought of the devastating volley of sparkling witticisms I launched at the Clinton administration.

  “Yeah, fine, right,” he said. “But Michael—the clothes! Jeans, sneakers, no tie? You looked like you were teaching a freshman English class at a technical college. You’re on national TV, for chrissake. Next time, wear a tie.”

  This was particularly galling to me for two reasons. First, because the comments came from a friend who is both active in conservative politics and a heterosexual, which means both that

  a. He should have been interested in what I had to say.

  b. He doesn’t have any better taste in clothes than I do.

  Second, my life as a clotheshorse and fashion plate has been an utter disaster. I was a fat kid growing up and was forced to wear clothes from the “husky” section of Sears’ boys’ department, which means they were made by unskilled laborers out of materials found in the store. What passed for a pair of pants bore a suspicious resemblance to a pup tent on sale the week before.

  As I grew older, my fashion failings continued. I honestly believe that the day the leisure suit went from a symbol of ’70s style to a wardrobe punch line was the day I showed up at Pelion High in a brand-new powder blue model with lapels the size of an interstate off-ramp.

  At Oral Roberts University, my dislike for dress clothes may have been aggravated by the campus dress code. Being forced to wear a tie to class every day was bad enough. The fact that my entire collection of neckwear consisted of those square-ended knit ties that were fashionable for about forty-five minutes during the early days of the Reagan administration just made it worse.