“Speaking the other day to a gathering of businesspeople from across the country, I mentioned the subdued nature of the election and my thoughts as to its reasons. I was surprised to get no pushback afterward, even from political enthusiasts, only agreement.
“But the news: When conversation turned to the vice presidential nominee, I said we all know the names of those being considered, spoke of a few, and then said Condoleezza Rice might be a brilliant choice.
“Here spontaneous applause burst forth.”
Well, I hate to call Peggy a liar, but she is one. I happened to be at that swanky soiree, as a busboy, naturally, and here’s the Vanneman version:
Peggy Noonan: “You call this a mojito? I said a double!”
Waiter: “Sorry, Miss Noonan.”
Peggy Noonan: “Yeah, you’re sorry. The whole damn country’s sorry. Mitt Romney, my achin’ Irish ass!”
Guest: “Peggy, not in front of the help.”
Peggy Noonan: “Oh, fuck the help. You know what this country needs? Condi Rice for Vice! Condi Rice for Vice! I mean, am I right or am I right?”
Guest: “Peggy, you’re upset.”
Peggy: “No, seriously. Condi Rice for Vice! Seriously.”
Guest: “Seriously, Peggy, there are six people who would vote for Condi, and they’re sitting here in this room. And you know it.”
Peggy: “Fuck it. (sings) ‘Manhattan, I’m up a tree, for the presidential candidate I want to vote for doesn’t have a fucking chance in Hell. Manhattan, I’m awfully nice. Nice people dine with me, and sometimes twice.’”
So there you have it. Anyone who can recognize the verse to Cole Porter’s “All Alone on the Ninetieth Floor” probably would want Condi Rice for Vice. But the many-headed? Nuh-uh.
