To print this page, select "Print" from the File menu of your browser salon.com > People June 2, 1999 URL: http://www.salon.com/people/col/reit/1999/06/02/tipper Morning with the woodman, lunch with the cake cop If Pat Buchanan gets his way, decorated desserts will be regulated by constitutional amendment. Plus: Tipper endorses Al! - - - - - - - - - - - - By Amy Reiter You probably wouldn't expect the kickoff of "Women for Gore" -- the wooden candidate's appeal to voters of the gentle gender -- to be a laff riot. And, in fact, it wasn't. But at least one of the Gores' sillier sides was in evidence at the morning gathering of several hundred breakfast-starved banner-waving gals in D.C. on Tuesday. After highly energetic introductory speeches by the likes of Rep. Sheila Jackson-Lee, D-Texas, and Tennessee Speaker Pro Tempore Lois DeBerry roused the sleepy masses. The Gores and Hillary Rodham Clinton entered the Mayflower Hotel ballroom amid alarmingly near rock-concert screams (I was surprised no one waved a lighter). At first, Tipper's waves to the assembled throngs were shy and hesitant -- her arm barely lifted to waist level, fingers wiggling gingerly at the crowd -- but then she stepped up to the mike. "I guess this won't come as very much of a surprise for you, but I came here to endorse Al, too," coyly quipped the Tipster as her smiling husband stood stiffly by. That loosened 'em up. (Are you taking notes, Bob and Liddy Dole?) "I really want America to know the Al Gore that I love," she said somewhat wistfully (could all that wood really be Ikea-style veneer?) before adding another wish to her list. "I wish I had the chance this morning to endorse someone else for some other race," she said meaningfully, "but I guess I can't do that." Meanwhile, the woman Tipper hopes will be her predecessor just smiled enigmatically. And when she stepped up to the podium, Hillary -- just back from vacation and looking minty-fresh in a stylish pale-green suit -- refused to tip her cards about her own political plans. Like Tipper, she was there to endorse Al, with whom, she says, she has a lot in common. "We're both products of strong mothers, we both love long campaign bus trips and we both love to dance," she said with what may as well have been a wink. Hey, and one more thing: They've both been seriously slimed by the same frisky feelin'-your-pain fellow. - - - - - - - - - - - - One cheap shot deserves another? "Charlton Heston does not deserve that kind of a cheap shot from this second-rate movie producer." -- House Republican Leader Dick Armey, reloading and firing another round at Spike Lee, who Armey says didn't do the right thing when he said the NRA prez should be shot - - - - - - - - - - - - Let them not eat cake Make no mistake. Arriving late to a National Press Club luncheon carries its consequences. The ladies who check my name off the list look concerned -- due to my tardiness, someone has been seated in my assigned place. No matter, I tell them. I don't care where I sit. Relieved, they swipe my credit card and hand me over to the man who magically coordinates these affairs. "Right this way," he says, showing me to a table with just one open seat. He introduces me to my cooling entree and efficiently informs me that I have only about five minutes to down it before the speaker, Pat Buchanan, takes the podium and C-SPAN's cameras start to roll. (The club hates it when you look more interested in your food than the speaker as the cameras pan the audience.) Then, in a whisper, he drops his bomb with what sounds to me like a cross between awe and apology. "You'll be sitting with Mr. Buchanan's people." The clean-cut fellow next to me amiably introduces himself as Buchanan's press secretary, and we chat about where the campaign has been (flushed with embarrassment, he can't recall), where it's headed (New York, New Jersey, the "Today" show) and where he joined it from (Steve Forbes' campaign). Then after a brief preamble in which all the folks seated at the head table are acknowledged, one by one (in contrast to the morning festivities, there's not a single woman among them), Buchanan takes the mike, immediately flashing his wit and verbal ease -- taking a lighthearted swipe at one of his rivals for the Republican presidential nomination, media darling Sen. John McCain. "I mean, I thought I did a lot of TV," he says. "But I think John deserves the 1999 William Ginsburg trophy." The joke is funny (William Ginsburg jokes are always funny, although the phrase "William Ginsburg joke" is itself somewhat redundant), and Buchanan gets a big laugh, and then another for saying that Monica Lewinsky's spotlight-grabbing ex-lawyer's record of five morning shows in a single day will stand as long as Joe DiMaggio's streak. Even I'm snickering now. But as Buchanan begins to explain his vision ("Globalism is at war with patriotism," "Free-trade conservatism is not really conservatism at all," "The Republican Party will be a pro-life party or it won't be my party"), it becomes clear where everyone in the room stands. A man at my table pounds the table until it shakes to show ol' Pat his enthusiastic support every time Buchanan finishes a sentence. A call to end discrimination against white males? Pound, pound, pound. A call for more fences around our borders? Pound, pound, pound! A call for the return of prayer in schools? For the rights of Americans to buy handguns for their own protection? Pound, pound, pound, pound, pound! After thanking Buchanan and presenting him with his parting gifts, the moderator asks one last question -- soft as the cheesecake attendees are enjoying with their coffee: "What do you think of everyone eating the American flag on his dessert?" Not missing a beat, Buchanan fires back, "If they would just pass that constitutional amendment, we wouldn't have this problem." The room explodes in a standing ovation. And suddenly, I have lost my appetite for cake. - - - - - - - - - - - - And wear your sunscreen "Ask questions, be an eager beaver, be Eddie Haskell with sincerity." -- Ever-eager "Today" show co-host Katie Couric's advice to graduates of Lehigh University - - - - - - - - - - - - Juicy bits Is the world's c'mon-get-happiest musical TV family headed to the big screen? Get out your tambourines and your triangle: It may well be. Daily Variety reports that Warner Bros. has commissioned a script to bring dreamy Keith, doe-eyed Shirley, bemused Reuben and the rest of the Partridge clan to a theater near you. Just so long as they don't give David Cassidy a cameo as, say, Grandpa Partridge. Forget Versace and Calvin Klein. Naomi Campbell's latest look is the work of Paolo Bonja, one of the best-known members of Lebanon's fast-growing haute couture industry. And supermodel Campbell, who flew into Beirut this weekend to model Lebanese gowns and jewelry at a fashion show, is one of the industry's best-known proponents. "I like Eastern culture," she said. The feeling appears to be mutual. According to fashion writer Zayan Khalil, "A supermodel like Naomi provides instant glamour to Lebanese haute couture." And you thought Lebanon was a fashion desert. salon.com | June 2, 1999