Fortunately, I did not include in my email to David any details about that recent trip to L.A., such as the fact that my wife, Chris, and I were booted out of Grauman's Egyptian Theater for making shadow bunnies on the screen when the road-show version of "The Patent Leather Kid" (1927) grew unbearably long; were summarily dusted out to Melrose Avenue after chaining ourselves to the Bronson gate at Paramount; or were caught drinking Coca Cola out of paper bags at the Highland Center, a notorious Pepsi franchise; tried to shove pickles from Nate and Al's through the mail slot of the Scientology Center on Hollywood Boulevard. Not to mention making off with some of the fresh flowers left at Valentino's crypt; or that we happened to be in the same restaurant as Mr. Blackwell, who told me that my Jos. A. Banks blazer was giving him indigestion.
Nor did I tell David what I really think of Sam OR the turnpike system.
Heaven help me had I shared any of that with the good Mr. Giovannoni and, thereby, with all of you.
So, by and large, I doubt that I've done lasting harm to myself other than to appear pretty stupid, and probably none of you would ever hire me now to work in your libraries or studios. David will probably have to upbraid me publicly for even THINKING that an ARSC V.P. would bend a deadline, especially without a damned healthy bribe.
If so, I will respect that...then find some way to blame Sam for it. Or, the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
(But, the smart money's on Sam.)
Robert L. Bamberger
Specialist in Energy Policy
Resources, Science and Industry Division
Congressional Research Service
Library of Congress
Washington, D.C. 20540-7450
p: 202-707-7240
f: 202-707-7289
rbamberger@xxxxxxxxxxx