Letter from Washington

Last week was a bad one for sensitive writers. For one thing, it was totally confusing. There was a moderately heavy snowstorm which in other parts of the country would have passed unnoticed but in Washington was as disruptive as Hurricane Anita. There were several holidays, all falling on the same day. In the District and in parts of Maryland, they celebrated Martin Luther King’s birthday. In Virginia, they observed the natal days of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. The observances took various forms, but they had one thing in common: no one was picking up the trash. Then there were the ceremonies honoring Hubert Humphrey, with everyone except Idi Amin putting in an appearance. Even Richard Nixon showed up, and so stupefied was the city by his presence that even his old friends in the media seemed at a loss for sensible words, perhaps the strangest analysis of all appearing in the Washington Star, which solemnly assured us that “Nixon knows he is Nixon.” (Thank God for that. What would happen to us all if he thought he were Norman Mailer?) Then, to top it all off, on Sunday, after the ceremonies honoring Humphrey, there was the Superdebate and the Superbowl, which kept those of us unable to make it to New Orleans gawking at our televisions until oblivion sets in somewhere after 9 p.m.

The Superbowl game, as even Cyrus Vance now knows, was played by two teams from the Sunbelt, that area which we are forever being told will give birth to a New Majority of some sort, if it doesn’t first become the Droughtbelt. The Superdebate featured Ronald Reagan, the Sunbelt’s favorite politician, arguing about a canal with the editor of this journal. (The Superdebate, which took place on Friday, was shown here on Sunday, two hours before the Superbowl, on WETA-TV, not the brightest jewel in the public broadcasting crown.)

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Ronald Reagan

William F. Buckley Jr.

Last week was a bad one for sensitive writers. For one thing, it was totally confusing. There was a moderately heavy snowstorm which in other parts of the country would have passed unnoticed but in Washington was as disruptive as Hurricane Anita. There were several holidays, all falling on the same day. In the District and in parts of Maryland, they celebrated Martin Luther King’s birthday. In Virginia, they observed the natal days of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. The observances took various forms, but they had one thing in common: no one was picking up the trash. Then there were the ceremonies honoring Hubert Humphrey, with everyone except Idi Amin putting in an appearance. Even Richard Nixon showed up, and so stupefied was the city by his presence that even his old friends in the media seemed at a loss for sensible words, perhaps the strangest analysis of all appearing in the Washington Star, which solemnly assured us that “Nixon knows he is Nixon.” (Thank God for that. What would happen to us all if he thought he were Norman Mailer?) Then, to top it all off, on Sunday, after the ceremonies honoring Humphrey, there was the Superdebate and the Superbowl, which kept those of us unable to make it to New Orleans gawking at our televisions until oblivion sets in somewhere after 9 p.m.

The Superbowl game, as even Cyrus Vance now knows, was played by two teams from the Sunbelt, that area which we are forever being told will give birth to a New Majority of some sort, if it doesn’t first become the Droughtbelt. The Superdebate featured Ronald Reagan, the Sunbelt’s favorite politician, arguing about a canal with the editor of this journal. (The Superdebate, which took place on Friday, was shown here on Sunday, two hours before the Superbowl, on WETA-TV, not the brightest jewel in the public broadcasting crown.)