A Good Time Was Had By All

What a nice day in Washington. Breakfast with politicians, enough said there, and then, on Fish's recommendation, the afternoon at the Phillips Collection. Which was everything he said and more, with Hoppers, Picassos, Braques, and the crown jewel, Luncheon of the Boating Party, which is magnificent on the wall and will also be magnificent in magnet form on my refrigerator, joining such other luminary magnets as those from Yosemite, the Baseball Hall of Fame, and Tupelo, Mississippi, the birthplace of Elvis.

But who cares about all that? What people really want to know is what is a night like with Chuckles and Clif? Let me tell you, something else.

To begin with, I was initially taken aback by their resemblance to the Newman and Redford of the "Butch Cassidy" years. Even after chatting with them for a while, I found it hard to avoid thinking of Bolivia.

That eventually passed and so on AG's advice, we decided to have a nice meal on the FDA's tab. We started with an appetizer of emulsified pearls, followed by blackened coelacanth, unicorn flank sliced thinly against the grain, and a mousse prepared from Hemingway first editions. All washed down with Champagne made from grapes pressed by teen-aged Romanian figure skaters.

And a chili dog.
















It was good.

We did more than eat, of course. Many people don't realize that Chuckles is actually noted German director Werner Herzog and we spent a great deal of time discussing President Bush's well-known fondness for "Fitzcarraldo"and the impact this has on our country's relationship with a more democratic South America. Clif, however, ultimately took the position that Fassbinder's "Berlin Alexanderplatz" was the greater film and the argument soon spilled into the streets where hilarity ensued.

Somewhat surprisingly, I found the Washington jails much to my liking. My skills in origami impressed the other inmates and the three hours I spend there before being bailed out were some of the happiest of my life. I shall forever cherish these scars as memories of this special time.

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow I board my return flight home on Air Llama, leaving behind the glitz and glamour of the most famous American city built on a swamp. Someday I shall return, hoping only in the meantime for the opportunity to repay the kind hospitality of my new friends, Chuckles and Clif. Thanks guys.