Monday, October 25, 2004
Having dreams about time travel are often fun and interesting, but not the one I had last night. Oh sure, it was fun at first, as I hopped in the time pod and went back to 1959. Wow! Look at all of those old cars! The Times Square ticker -- no Batista! Don't flee Havana!
Two Dollars for a steak dinner?!? Booyah! All I have are twenties, so I hand one over to the waiter who looks puzzled. He says, "first of all, the Treasury Secretary is Robert B. Anderson. John Snow is only 20 years old fer chrissakes! And twenties look nothing like this. This bill has peach in it."
Lets just say the Secret Service was not pleased. And this was back before the Warren court made crime fun and profitable. There was a long, old school interrogation during which I realized there was nothing plausible I could say to satisfy these guys. So I told them the only thing I could think of. I made these bills on the printing presses in the basement of the Columbia School of Journalism.
Two Dollars for a steak dinner?!? Booyah! All I have are twenties, so I hand one over to the waiter who looks puzzled. He says, "first of all, the Treasury Secretary is Robert B. Anderson. John Snow is only 20 years old fer chrissakes! And twenties look nothing like this. This bill has peach in it."
Lets just say the Secret Service was not pleased. And this was back before the Warren court made crime fun and profitable. There was a long, old school interrogation during which I realized there was nothing plausible I could say to satisfy these guys. So I told them the only thing I could think of. I made these bills on the printing presses in the basement of the Columbia School of Journalism.
