May 4 - May 10, 1995

UNHAIR HILLARY. A friend of mine called me up to complain about the hair he's seen women sporting these days: straight, just brushing the shoulder, "that dishpan hair look," he moans. The hair cop informs me my current doo looks like a cheap imitation of Barbara Walters' locks. I don't bring up his hairstyle, which has looked the same since Gerald Ford was president.

That reminds me of Hillary Clinton. The only way Hillary ever got any attention was when she changed her hairstyle or mentioned healthcare, neither of which she does anymore. Now she goes out of the country and holds babies with her daughter Chelsea--who, by the way could have the best white girl dreadlocks around if she wanted to--and says we need to take care of the world's children. She's right. But beyond mouthing the obvious, I wish she'd put her blonde head on straight and start screaming about healthcare again. Her HMO ideas weren't always on track, but she opened the debate and gave a forum to those whose aging relatives lost all their money while trying to stay alive in a system that eats you from the outside while you're unraveling from within.

My heart valves stalled the day I saw Hillary in her blue suit giving tours of the redo of the Blue Room at the White House. "Was this as rewarding as healthcare reform?," interviewer Paula Zahn wanted to know about her stewardship of the project. "More successful," quipped HRC. "I like all my jobs." Oh please. Decorating was okay for the daily-coiffured Nancy "I'll-Order-New-China-If-My-Astrologer-Says-I-Should" Reagan, but not Hillary.

Hillary Rodham Clinton came to the White House with a Wellesley education, a good legal reputation, a desire for change and a brain. Why should we waste a resource like that on an easy restoration job? Any decorator with an eye toward tradition could have taken a gander at a photo and slapped the right fabric on those antique chairs. And just send one of our aging legislators to the basement to hunt for old paintings.

Now that HRC's hair is back, straight and worry-free, she should return to what she was doing in the first place: redefining the role of the spouse of the president. When we get somebody with some talent, who can research, write and speak effectively--let's jump on her, so to speak. Lame, cock radio, which is afraid of women in general, should not send her to the hall closet to write a book with a ghostwriter. She should get back to work. Only this time she needs to ask for a salary. And if some people in this country think her role should be buying silverware and wallpaper, screw them to an antique chair.

See you on the White House tour this summer, warriors.

May 4 - May 10, 1995

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