THIS is how I wish I could write. Sigh. I love her. She no longer has Mitt Romney to kick around; I can’t believe I’ll miss him, but as fodder for Gail’s words, which are such lovely, folksy daggers, he just might be irreplaceable. Who else has strapped a dog* to the roof of their car? Who else has been reminded of it in the NYT every week for years? I don’t really know what cockles are, but Gail warms mine twice a week.
She’s taking on Lance Armstrong. She would like to know, now stripped of titles for riding a bicycle (something you never forget, as you know), what is the point of Lance Armstrong? Better than that even, she wonders why something like the U.S. Postal Service spent millions and millions of dollars sponsoring something like a sport, and a sport with bicycles. Why would any government agency provide sports sponsorship? It’s insane. Especially when that agency lost $16 billion dollars last year. She believes the mail-sending public has a right to know. Here’s the piece.
*I just got off the phone with Roz. We were talking about Mitt Romney, because I was talking about his dog, because I was talking about Gail. She asked me the dog’s name. I said ‘Seasmus’. Roz said, “say that again?” I said, “C-mus”. She fell over laughing, telling me it’s prounounced ‘shay-mus’. I did not laugh, because sometimes I say things wrong, and when it’s only in my head, nobody has to know. I was regretting even sharing the Gail Collins-dog-on-the-roof love with her. She just kept laughing. Then we had a discussion about the name Siobhan. I told her it was pronounced ‘Chiv-von’ and she got very quiet. “Really? I didn’t know that.”