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Two Funerals and a Quagmire
Another friend's farewell, this time at West Point, where Commander Tim Vogel was buried with full military honours. Some of you oldies may have seen the film The Bridges of Toko-Ri, starring William Holden, Grace Kelly, Frederic March and Mickey Rooney. Holden played a pilot based on Tim's father, a hot shot jet fighter who died in North Korea in 1951. The film had changed his name and presented him as a reluctant hero. Tim's father was nothing of the kind. Sully Vogel was the strongest midshipman at Annapolis and became a legend in Korea for his aerial exploits. But Timmy outdid his old man. He won two DFC's and 17 other awards for flying 200 missions over some of the most heavily defended real estate in North Vietnam, and set a record for successfully performing over 600 landings on a carrier. He and I became good friends after his return, and like most heroes he never talked about his exploits. [Read More]
Of Snobs and Slobs
People to the manor born simply do not disapprove of those born in lesser circumstances than themselves. To the contrary, a duke is much more at ease with his dustman than with a hedge fund vulgarian who tries to ape the duke’s manner of speaking. Unlike in America, where one’s pocketbook is taken as one’s worth, an Englishman’s accent counts for more. Or used to, anyway. Even if one learns to fake it, like the great Lady Thatcher who took elocution lessons and spoke la-di-dah English, there are still all sorts of giveaways. For example: A drawing room is never called a lounge, except on a boat. A mirror is a looking glass, except in a car. Wireless is upper class for radio, and one simply never, but never calls a napkin a serviette. [Read More]
The Karate Kid
Oldies have a powerful lobby in America, even in sport. Take judo, for example. Last week I went down to Miami for the U.S. national judo championships, a competition which decides who will represent Uncle Sam in next year’s Olympics. Along with the seniors, as the main competitors are known as, there is also a master’s tournament. Age groups begin from 30 to 35, and so on. I was entered in the 70 to 75 group. [Read More]
Requiem for a Buckley
The first time I met Pat Buckley was in 1964 and the circumstances were rather strange. It was at the Palace hotel in Gstaad, and a few friends and I were drinking around the large piano in the grill while the pianist was playing a spirited version of Mussolini's favorite tune, "Giovinezza." Our singing the ode to youth and fascism apparently did not best please a tall, bald man standing at the bar who suddenly threw his whiskey glass at us. It smashed against the wall showering us with glass, although no one was cut or seriously hurt. [Read More]
Swilling from the America’s Cup
Larry Ellison, the chief executive of the software giant Oracle and the world's 11th richest man, according to Forbes magazine, is not imbued by an ounce of grace or elementary good manners. He has constructed a basketball court on board his megayacht, the latter a monstrosity which pollutes more than a battleship and serves no other purpose than as a penile extension to its owner. He's also so cheap... [Read More]
Vive La France!
I remember when I was living in Flambertin des Creppieres, a small hamlet west of Paris with an admittedly extremely pretentious name, and listening to two butchers arguing about Camus. They both had obviously read him, but it was their evocation of other writers whom they compared him to which left me breathless. After they finished their wine they shook hands and went back to slicing up chickens and lambs. Just like back in old Miami, n’est pas? [Read More]
Mama was a Spartan
Back in the old country we've been making jokes about the Persians since 480 B.C. But we also like them because they made heroes out of us Greeks. We only lost once to them, in Thermopylae in 480 B.C., but they were 400,000 of them and 300 of us. [Read More]
Paint Him Black
Dripping with malice, envy and venom, hacks are having the time of their life as Conrad Black goes to trial in Chicago, a city known for its smiling wallet-lifters and corrupt public officials. Not since Fat Bob Maxwell took a dive into the Med back in 1991 have those holier than thou members of the Fourth Estate enjoyed themselves as much. The trouble is there's quite a difference. Maxwell stole hundreds of millions.... [Read More]
Election 2008: Midget-Wrestling
Barack Obama sounds very exotic but he is an unknown quantity with a 100 percent liberal voting record, whose only claim to instant fame is his skin color. What the hell is going on here? Just because a part-black man has obvious charisma and is soft-spoken and decent, is it enough to make him president? Why not pick an even nicer guy like Colin Powell? [Read More]
Cocktails with Paul Johnson
Countries where the imagination is profoundly feminine, like France, have sanctity as their ideal—whereas England has its Puritan morality and Germany its scientific efficiency. Paul Johnson has a “Beatific Vision” of life that is far above morality as it is outside science. His intellectual love of God is clear and undeniable, and should have silenced atheists like that Dawkins chappie long ago, but we are, after all, living in a free country. At least for the moment. [Read More]