Meet Rob, Meet Roman: Behind “Letter from Al”

HERE’S how it happened: In early 1993, around the time of Bill Clinton’s first inauguration (How young we all seemed! Lying under oath was still a crime! Cell phones were the size of bricks!), I went to Washington to visit a friend. In the corridors of the Mayflower Hotel, during NR’s “Conservative Summit,” I met John O’Sullivan, then impresario of the magazine. A few months earlier, a mutual friend had suggested we meet, and had volunteered me to write a few articles for NR. As John airily sauntered along the hallway, greeting what would turn out to be the cast and crew of the lurid, over-the-top B-movie called the Clinton Era (“Hi,Newt!” “Hi, Henry!”), he pitched to me an idea.

“Something like—Hi, Taki—the ‘Dear Bill’ letters from Private Eye,” he said. I had no idea what he meant. He shrugged. “You write a letter as Al Gore, or, if you prefer, it can be someone slightly more—Hi, Larry—slightly more consequential, sort of summing up the past two weeks-—Hello, Judge—from an insider’s perspective.” “But I’m an outsider,” I said. O’Sullivan just smiled. “Then it will be all the easier, dear boy, to make it funny. Hello, Mr. Ambassador …”

About the Author

Rob Long

Rob Long is a writer and producer and a co-founder of Ricochet.

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HERE’S how it happened: In early 1993, around the time of Bill Clinton’s first inauguration (How young we all seemed! Lying under oath was still a crime! Cell phones were the size of bricks!), I went to Washington to visit a friend. In the corridors of the Mayflower Hotel, during NR’s “Conservative Summit,” I met John O’Sullivan, then impresario of the magazine. A few months earlier, a mutual friend had suggested we meet, and had volunteered me to write a few articles for NR. As John airily sauntered along the hallway, greeting what would turn out to be the cast and crew of the lurid, over-the-top B-movie called the Clinton Era (“Hi,Newt!” “Hi, Henry!”), he pitched to me an idea.

“Something like—Hi, Taki—the ‘Dear Bill’ letters from Private Eye,” he said. I had no idea what he meant. He shrugged. “You write a letter as Al Gore, or, if you prefer, it can be someone slightly more—Hi, Larry—slightly more consequential, sort of summing up the past two weeks-—Hello, Judge—from an insider’s perspective.” “But I’m an outsider,” I said. O’Sullivan just smiled. “Then it will be all the easier, dear boy, to make it funny. Hello, Mr. Ambassador …”