Lewinsky starts to talk. Did Clinton talk too much?

The Art of Not-Quite-Saying It

By Rick Horowitz

How does "chum" grab you?

"Acquaintance" has a certain innocence about it, don't you think? And of course there's always "colleague."

Forget the poetry books -- give the girl a thesaurus!

We're speaking hypothetically, of course, and why not? After all, hypothetically is the way you want to handle these kinds of things, especially if you're the Leader of the Free World and you're fooling around with a female young enough to be your downfall. What you want to do is talk it through -- but vaguely. Deniably.

But what if one of you cracks?

Welcome back to the frenzied precincts -- Monica gets immunized, Billworld gets traumatized. After all the gazillions of trees that have given their lives to keep this story inky-fresh on your doorstep every morning, there are forests of words still to come: words about sex, and mostly words about words.

Sources are talking, you see. (Sources are always talking.) But what the sources are saying this time is: Lewinsky gave it up. Yes, they say she'll say -- she and the prez did have a sexual relationship. And that affidavit she swore to months ago that said otherwise? Never mind.

This was not the kind of news Bill Clinton wanted to hear. But that's OK -- the rest of the news was worse.

The sources are also saying, you see, that Bill and Monica agreed to slick it out, to deny that their hankies had ever pankied. Monica, they say, has indicated to Ken Starr's people that way back last December, back when the Starr-crossed...pals were both under subpoena in the Paula Jones case, the prez discussed how they might characterize their relationship if they were ever asked about it.

Just speaking hypothetically, of course. Hypothetically is the way you want to handle these kinds of things. It lets you go out and wag your finger when you have to. Sometimes you have to.

Back in January, you'll recall, back when the Big Guy wanted to look particularly believable, when he wagged his finger and pounded a podium and even scowled, he had this to say about that: "I never told anybody to lie. Not a single time. Never."

It sounded airtight. That was the whole idea. Actually, it had enough wiggle room for a Jell-O factory.

"I never told anybody..." didn't mean somebody else didn't do it for him. "I never told anybody..." didn't mean he didn't hint, suggest, imply, or otherwise manage to get his point across. He's good with words, you know.

And "I never told anybody to lie" didn't rule out telling someone to be less than direct. Circumspect. To consider the benefits of leaving town, for instance, so she might not have to testify in the Jones case. To consider the advantages of returning certain presidential gifts, for instance, before the lawyers started asking embarrassing questions about them.

Nothing direct, of course -- he'd simply be making conversation. She'd be free to draw her own conclusions about the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It's a wink-and-a-nod kind of business, dodging the inspectors and the bluenose battalions. Lying? Of course not. Just think of it as "Fifty Ways to a More Colorful Vocabulary."

And somewhere in that great verbal gymnasium of his, the master of nuance made his move, and the intern tumbled for him. But she's not tumbling now, the sources say. She's telling.

The word is "trouble."

Posted 7/31/98. Like what you see? Tell your friends!

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