Happy Warrior

THE conventional wisdom on the Clintons was promulgated by my then-senator, Bob Smith of New Hampshire, back at the end of the impeachment trial. “He’s won,” said Senator Smith, after dutifully if vainly casting his vote to nail Slick Willie’s puffy butt. “He always wins. Let’s move on.”

They won through the Nineties. The Clintons’ Democratic party was great for the Clintons, lousy for the Democratic party, which in the course of the decade lost Senate seats, House seats, governors’ mansions, state legislatures, and on and on, until, in a final snook cocked at his comrades, Bill Clinton was unable to bequeath the White House to his vice president in a time of peace and prosperity-but his wife, campaigning for her first political office, managed to pick up a Senate seat in a state she’d barely spent 20 minutes in.

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THE conventional wisdom on the Clintons was promulgated by my then-senator, Bob Smith of New Hampshire, back at the end of the impeachment trial. “He’s won,” said Senator Smith, after dutifully if vainly casting his vote to nail Slick Willie’s puffy butt. “He always wins. Let’s move on.”

They won through the Nineties. The Clintons’ Democratic party was great for the Clintons, lousy for the Democratic party, which in the course of the decade lost Senate seats, House seats, governors’ mansions, state legislatures, and on and on, until, in a final snook cocked at his comrades, Bill Clinton was unable to bequeath the White House to his vice president in a time of peace and prosperity-but his wife, campaigning for her first political office, managed to pick up a Senate seat in a state she’d barely spent 20 minutes in.