OK, that’s a bit of an overstatement — but only a bit. Few things are more irritating than arriving home from a hard day’s work and seeing salesmen prowling the neighborhood, ready to disturb your solitude and send your dogs into a barking frenzy.
Tonight the salesmen were from AT&T U-verse. Before I could shut the garage door one of them had scampered up to my driveway and was shouting, “Hello! Is this where I can get my dinner?” Huh? What the heck does that mean? But rather than have the guy ring the doorbell and catapult Penny and Kasey into a nerve-jangling barkathon, I said hello and asked what he wanted. When he said he was from AT&T, I said we were on Verizon and didn’t want to change. When he said he wasn’t trying to sell cellphone service, I said we had no land-line phone. When he said he just wanted to tell me about AT&T U-verse’s upgraded, bundled cable/internet/phone service, I said I wasn’t interested.
Of course, no salesman ever takes no for an answer. The guy kept asking me questions about our current provider and acting like all of our neighbors had switched over to AT&T U-verse and we were idiots for not letting him waste 15 minutes of our time with his sales pitch. Much as I respect and admire our neighbors — thanks again for the beer last night, Dave and Amy! — we’re not going to make cable and internet decisions based on what they have done. I kept saying no, not interested, and he kept pitching — so finally I had to be conclusive, say “no” with more vehemence, and shut the garage door in his face. I was trying to be polite, but he wouldn’t let me.
Guess what? AT&T U-verse has come through our neighborhood before. And, they had already stopped at our house today, when Kish told them we aren’t interested. The fact that they troubled us, twice, after we told them we were not interested is unforgivable. Hey, AT&T — stick it! I will NEVER buy your service now. Stop bothering us!
Hillary Clinton’s new autobiography about her tenure at the State Department is out. Entitled Hard Choices, it’s gotten some tough reviews. One piece describes it as riddled with cliches, long and boring, and ultimately destined to end up in the “Free” bin at the local bookseller. Depending upon who you ask, the book is either doing fine or bombing, and the Drudge Report gleefully reports that after only one week it’s already fallen out of the Amazon list of top ten sellers.
To the extent that she cares — after all, she received a hefty amount to write the book in the first place — Hillary Clinton shouldn’t feel bad about this. The reality is that political biographies are, almost without exception, unreadable. All of the interesting stuff has been excised because it might offend someone, and any truly revealing anecdotes hit the cutting room floor for the same reason. What’s left is typically ponderous and so carefully written and weighty and self-important in tone that an objective reader quickly ends up numbed, then flips to the picture pages before tossing the book aside for good.
Contrast that the political tell-all book — the one that’s based largely on anonymous and loosely described sources like “a long-time family friend” or “a member of the legal team.” The tell-all books dish the dirt. Consider the new book by Edward Klein called: Blood Feud: The Clintons Versus The Obamas. Some of the incidents it reports are a lot juicier than a bloodless description of policy decisions about Syria. One report discusses an unpleasant golf game between President Obama and former President Clinton, an awkward dinner where a bored President Obama played with his BlackBerry rather than listen to a lecture from Clinton, and Michelle Obama gossiping with a friend and referring to Hillary Clinton as “Hildebeest.” Of course, books based on anonymous sources always need to be taken with more than a grain of salt . . . but, say, could President Obama really have blown off the Clintons so conspicuously? Do tell!
Which would you rather read: a carefully contrived, leaden official biography written by someone who aspires to a further political career, or a lively book that treats politicians like real people rather brittle brass, god-like creatures who have only important conversations about significant developments in the world? The best-seller lists will tell the tale.