Ah, Bill Clinton

In the 1990s, your diarist was a very serious Clinton hater. Almost everything about the man was like nails on a chalkboard.

Yet with a few really awful, unforgivable exceptions (Waco, for one) he didn’t do much harm. That wasn’t for lack of trying but he managed to inject so much partisan venom into DC that not a lot of permanent damage could be done.

And so, about every six months, I start to think better of the man. I think maybe my judgment was too harsh. I was young and hotheaded and too partisan and the like.

Then he opens his mouth when the cameras are rolling and says something. And I want to chuck a shoe at him.