So I’m in New York tonight, having drinks with an old friend, a producer at A & E, a gentleman of a certain age, which means he remembers “Thirty Something” and “Hill Street Blues” and he knows who Marilyn Monroe’s co-star was in “Let’s Make Love” and similar trivia..
And he mentions that before he left work, he asked his 20-something executive producer, who is very bright and whose ears have been pierced not once but multiple times, whether she will be going to a “debate party” tonight and she laughs.
Well, he say, will you be watching the debate at all? And she laughs again.
No, she finally replies, she will not be watching the debate.
But she may be voting and there is no mystery regarding whom she will be voting for.
“I know no one on the Island of Manhattan who is voting for Bush,” he tells me. Which I’m sure is true, but then he doesn’t know Bill Buckley or Rich Lowry. Besides, NY, NY is the bluest of the blue territories, other than maybe San Francisco, Boulder and Austin.
His associate producer, by the way, also laughed at him, when he she learned that he carried a “comb,” an instrument that evidently went out of fashion about the time that Hill Street Blues went off the air.