Linda Fairstein and Hillary Clinton 3/15/04
There was a luncheon at a local club celebrating the publication of Linda Fairstein’s 6th novel The Kills (Scribner).
I have agreed not to name the “local club” because it is private and some of these venerated (and invulnerable) institutions don’t like their name mentioned in print. Why this is has never really been clarified for me in terms that have logic or reason, but those are the rules and members can get in trouble if there is publicity associated with their name and that club.
So, Linda Fairstein had a lunch for her new book. This is actually her seventh book – the first was the non-fiction Sexual Violence; the War Against Rape.
We got there promptly at noon. There was a fire crackling in the main gallery filling the air with the assuring redolence of hearth and home on a cold winter’s day.
Two minutes after JH and I arrived, Senator Hillary Clinton came in, without fanfare or escort, and was greeted effusively by Ms. Fairstein. This is the fifth or sixth time I’ve been in the presence of our junior senator from New York and I’m always charmed by her warmth and friendliness. She seems accessible and she relates (she also remembers people’s names – something I’m lousy at). Such a manner is a rare quality, and I can’t emphasize that enough, not only for a person in her position – power, fame, celebrity, etc. It’s a rare quality, period. I’m not talking about politeness or civility, both of which also can be elusive in the fast-paced metropolitan life. I’m talking about warmth and friendliness.
I chatted with Senator Clinton briefly about the Democrats’ primary campaign. She asked me where I thought things stood at this moment. I told her what I thought. I didn’t ask her where she thought things stood. I was so flattered that she wanted to know what I thought, I forgot. Although it doesn’t matter to me what she thinks about the campaign. NewYorkSocialDiary
Ms. Fairstein, hilly thinks you're a dolt because she gave you an opportunity to let her give you her all important political expertise. Trust me, she's forgotten your name.
On the other hand if recalling names is a skill you admire, President Bush is your man.