Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Trip to Washington State

Book signing event today:

June 30, 2004 Costco 1801 10th Avenue NW Issaquah, WA 1:00 p.m.

June 30, 2004 Elliott Bay Book Co. 101 S. Main Street Seattle, WA 8:00 p.m.

It was a very busy day. I had a great time meeting with the people from all over the Bay area. It felt good to talk to people and to hear what's going on in their lives. I want to thank all of the people of California for the special reception they've given me. A great day, but I'm very tired. I'm about to go to sleep right now. We're going to Washington State tomorrow. I hope to meet you all there.

I have received many e-mails from people, who didn't get the chance to have their book signed by me. As I said before on this book tour diary, I'll be traveling all over the country after my book tour to help with the election campaigns of local Democratic candidates. Feel free to bring the book, if you are at one of these events and I'll be happy to sign it for you.

It's impossible for me to sign all books, which have been sold. Almost 2.5 million copies have been sold. I understand some of your disappointment for not being able to get a signature, but remember why you bought the book. You bought it for the content, not for the signature. I hope.

I'm looking forward to my visit to the North West. I am happy to give something back for all the support this area gave me all through my presidency. And who knows, maybe even Big Foot will be standing in line waiting for an autograph. I'll bring my camera.

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Visit Berkeley and San Jose California

Book signing event today:

June 29, 2004 Cody's Books 2454 Telegraph Avenue Berkeley 12:00 p.m.

June 29, 2004 Barnes & Noble 3600 Stevens Creek Blvd. San Jose 8:30 p.m.

I still have problems typing this internet diary. My publicist's assistant, Bobbi Lamoon and and it's her laptop I'm using right now, said if I wrote my entries longhand, she'd type them on the computer for me. I declined the offer. I know myself. If I know she's reading my entries, I know I will hold back on the stories. That would reduce the diary effect. I always try to do my work as best as I can.

I had a great time signing books yesterday. The old Ferry building is a beautiful building. The atmosphere here in San Francisco is awesome. It's no surprise that the Peace and Love movement started here. This place is all about peace and love.

I talked to senator Kerry. We discussed his campaign and my role in it. I'll be speaking at the convention and I'll be fundraising and traveling around the country to get out the vote. We also discussed Michael Moore's possible role in the campaign. I think Kerry is worried Michael Moore is outstaying him. I have this feeling, Kerry is a bit paranoid, not just about Michael Moore's sudden popularity with liberals, but also my commitment to him. It's the old Hillary is running in '08 theory.

I completely agree with Kerry's policies. The problem is the salesman. I don't want to criticize our candidate, but he isn't a natural. At politics I mean. He has to work hard to get his point across. I'm afraid Kerry is more like a Gray Davis than a Kennedy. A great administrator, but a flawed politician.

Kerry needs all the help we could give him. That means not just me, but all Democrats from all over the country. If you agree with his policies and don't want his message to be derailed by the Republican election machine, you will have to help out. Donate time or donate money. This election is not about two men vying for the presidency. It's about two different policy platforms. If you had enough of more of the same, do something. You're not investing in John Kerry, you're investing in your future, your life.

There are two book-signing events today. My arm hurts sometimes, but the happiness of the people who bought the book makes me forget the pain. It doesn't hurt too much, but the pain is aggravated by my back problems. After this tour I'll have to do something about it.

If you're nearby, come by and say hi. To the rest of you, have a good day. I hope to see you soon.

Monday, June 28, 2004

Trip to San Francisco and Robin Williams

Book signing event:

June 28, 2004 Book Passage (Ferry Building) 1 Ferry Building San Francisco 2:30 p.m.

Me, Hillary, Robin Williams and his wife went on a double date yesterday. We went to the harbor. We ate fish at a small restaurant. After that we went to see Michael Moore's movie, Fahrenheit 9/11. I don't want to say anything about the content, because American soldiers are still in harms way in Iraq. But I can say it was very entertaining. If you have the time go watch it. Robin said he thought it was the best movie he saw this year. I disagree. Big Fish is my favorite.

After the movie we went to a local bar. We didn't get drunk, but we did have to call a taxi to take us home. That's when the fun started. Oh boy!

Now you must understand that Robin isn't just funny onscreen, but also in real life. There is only one problem. He knows how to persuade others to do the craziest things. At home, Robin thought of a prank and yes, he did persuade me to play along.

What happened was this. Robin put Mariah Carey's CD in the CD player, took the remote control, told the women me and him were going to get some wine and we went into the kitchen.

In the kitchen we took off all our clothes except for our boxer shorts and socks. We put on ties and sunglasses. We both had one of those plastic microphones kids play with in our hands. Robin pushed the play button on the remote control and Mariah Carey started singing.

Me and him went into the living room and stood in front of the women. We did this whole dance routine as Mariah Carey sang "Oh, when you walk by every night, Talking sweet and looking fine, I get kinda hectic inside...."

We must've looked like two drunken sailors. Oh God, what was I thinking? That's the kind of influence Robin has on me and all his friends. The guy is crazy, but he also manages to make us lose our minds.

Oh and when Mariah sang "I'm in Heaven, With my boyfriend, My laughing boyfriend, There's no beginning, And there is no end..." the two of us would look at each other like we were in love and put both of our hands on our hearts.

What was the result of our hard work? The women rolled their eyes and told us "Go get the wine".

Oh boy, I still have to laugh out loud, when I think about it.

I had a wonderful day. I know one thing, I hope to be able to visit this city again next year.

Chelsea called yesterday to ask if she and curly could join us in San Francisco. I put an end to that idea real fast. I know how romantic San Francisco is. If there is one thing I don't want it's romance between curly and my daughter.

I hope to see everybody at the book signing. I'm looking forward to it.

Sunday, June 27, 2004

Visit Los Angeles

At daybreak yesterday I was unhappy. To tell you the truth I was miserable. At sundown I was happy. At daybreak I had my chat with my brother. I've talked to some people and Roger's going to a clinic, I guess that's the word, in Arizona, where he can rest and come to his senses. There are psychiatrists there, so he can take care of his mental problems.

The book-signing event yesterday was marvelous. LaBrea is located in the African-American sector of Los Angeles. But the people, who attended were from all creeds and breeds. The reception I got was overwhelming. I was moved to tears. I had such a good time shaking hands and talking to people outside, they practically had to drag me inside to sign the books. After the event, the owner of the book gave me a copy of The Heart is a lonely Hunter as a present. It's in the bestsellers list, but I had never heard of it. Yesterday was a day to remember.

After the book signing, I took a tour of Compton. A poor, dilapidated black neighborhood. The inhabitants might be poor, but they gave me a welcome I will never forget. They made me feel at ease, at home.

I don't know what it is between me and African-Americans. Some say I identify with them, because I was a downtrodden poor boy with an abusive father from Arkansas. I don't think so. I just like them. I always did, even years ago when segregation was still the talk of town in the South. I remember I always went to black clubs, because I loved the music. At first they’d look at me and ask themselves, "what does he want from us?" An understandable question, but as soon as they saw I was there for the music and the food, yes always the food, they accepted me. That is until I brought my sax and asked if I could join in the jam sessions they used to have in those days.

I'll be in San Francisco with Hillary. I have a book signing session and she's giving a speech about women and leadership in the 21st century. I'm looking forward at spending time with Hillary in this town. We visited San Francisco when we were still dating. We have fond memories of the time we spent there. I'm looking forward to going to the harbor, get something to eat and walk around town. San Francisco is beautiful. By the way, never say Frisco or San Fran if you're not a local, because they'll never forgive you. I'll be staying at Robin Williams' place. He's one of my best friends. He has a lovely wife and I'm fond of his children. I'm looking forward to the coming days.

Saturday, June 26, 2004

Visit Los Angeles and Meeting with Roger

Book signing event today:

June 26, 2004 Esowon Books 3655 S. Labrea Los Angeles 10:00 a.m.

I just visited Roger. This visit drained me physically and mentally, but I'm glad I saw him. Where do I begin? I had tried to avoid seeing him. As I said before, he doesn't have a job, his car was repossessed and his ex took him to court and the judge told him to pay up or do time. He asked me for money some time ago. He was saying he had some sort of disease and couldn't work. I thought he was just making up excuses. I wanted him to get off his lazy ass and do something with his life. He's not a kid anymore. I thought the threat of jail time would straighten him out. That's why I was trying to avoid him.

I did visit my nephew. He's ten years old. One of the reasons I'm so angry with Roger is the fact he's setting such a bad example for his son. His son deserves better. I love my nephew and I'm trying to be the best uncle I could be, but he needs his dad.

I gave him this book, The Little Prince. I'm trying to show him another, more bright, more uplifting side of life than the one his father is showing him. The Little Prince is one of my favorite stories. Most people love this book. Globally only the Bible and Karl Marx's Das Kapital have sold more copies. Weird, because you'd think Harry Potter or Huckleberry Finn or Shakespeare was more popular. Not so. We Americans live a bit in a only our continent matters bubble. The story is about a pilot crashing in the desert. There he meets a little alien prince. It's not a real children's story. Children will like the story, but grown ups will understand the symbolism, the criticism of our human societies and the different view it gives of us humans then we're used to.

We humans are a breed apart. I found that out today. Again. Roger wanted to see me. His friends had warned me he really was on the verge of a break down. I called him and told him I'd come by. He gave me the address. Early this morning I borrowed my publisher's car and drove over there. He now lives in a dilapidated hotel off LaBrea. It's near Compton. You probably know that name, because a lot of gangster rappers were born there and they use that name in their songs all the time. It's a crime ridden, poor, predominantly African-American area. Quite different from LaBrea, which is a prosperous, thriving African-American section. Strange how these two realities can exist next to each other.

I knocked on his door. He said come in, the door is open. I did. He was in bed. All the way in my car I was preparing myself to read him the riot act. I took one look at him. He looked horrible. I started telling him he was a man, he was a father, that he should take better care of his son. I told him he was responsible for the situation he was in, because of his whoring, coke snorting and boozing. That his ex was a terrific woman and that he had done her wrong. I told him every time I saw the pain in his son's eyes I wanted to smack him for being such a lousy father.

He jumped out of bed and jumped in front of me with a wild look in his eyes. He started shaking all over and growled. Then he fell on his knees in front of me and started to cry out loud. He said "Don't you think I don't know that? Don't you think I know I fucked up my life. I fucked up my son's life. I know. I know. I'm nobody. I wish I was never born. I want to die. I want to die"

A terrible image hit me in the face. There we were again. Me and my baby brother. Back home in Hope. And my little brother had just been terribly beaten by our alcoholic father. He beat me, my mother and Roger, but Roger was the one he abused in the most horrible, horrible fashion. I had brains, I was lucky. I left this miserable place and made something of my life, but my poor little baby brother was still a prisoner of his past.

Seeing this image of years past, I broke down. I fell to my knees, embraced my baby brother and we cried together for five minutes. He wasn't being lazy. He really needed help. Financially, but most certainly psychologically. Maybe it is his mid life crisis that brought back the nightmarish memories of our youth. I don't know, but I do know he's my baby brother and he needs help. Who will help him, if I don't help him?

We talked for half an hour, holding each other’s hands, crying, laughing, really bonding for the first time, since I left home in Hope, Arkansas.

At this moment, I feel devastated, but also happy. I have tears in my eyes, but I'm shaking with excitement, because of the intensity of my feelings for Roger. He needs me. I will be there for him. We will be a happy family again. We just need to work though these problems together. We will be happy one day. I'm sure. It will happen. It will.

Friday, June 25, 2004

Trip to Santa Monica California and Playing Poker with Friends

Book signing event today:

June 25, 2004 Brentanos 10250 Santa Monica Blvd. Los Angeles 5:00 p.m.

I love Los Angeles. The sun, the sea, the beach and especially the Latino vibe. I have a lot of friends in Los Angeles. I stayed at one of my best friend's house. You might know him, Kevin Spacey. He was in that blockbuster movie American Beauty. He got an oscar for his role. You're probably asking yourself why I'm still up. We were playing poker. Me, Kevin, his long time boyfriend, yes Kevin Spacey is gay, Sean Penn and Alec Baldwin. It was one hard game. Like walking a marathon. All of them are thorough professionals when it comes to playing poker. The best poker player in Hollywood is Danny DeVito, but he has to work tomorrow morning, so he couldn't make it. I said all were good players. That is except for Kevin's boyfriend, Dana Brunetti. After a few hands we put him on the drinks and snacks shift. I don't think he liked it. He gave Kevin this look. All of us were a bit embarrased. I felt that he felt that we all thought he was some sort of toyboy who'd be gone as soon as Kevin saw someone more interesting. Anyway, oh talking about food, I ate 4 tacos in 2 hours. Oh God, LA is Mexican food heaven. If you ever visit LA make sure you visit The Green Burrito downtown. It's next to the high rises. If you order a taco meal, you get salad and beans with your taco. And a drink ofcourse. It's a fast food restaurant, but the food tastes much better than Taco Bell's.

Something strange happened just before my interview with Larry King. When I entered the studio, this woman, she probably works there, I was shaking hands with the people working there and she slipped me a piece of paper with her phone number on it. I was so surprised. I looked at it and I just laughed out loud. The others saw what happened and looked at the woman. She turned red. Oh boy, I don't know. A few days ago I was eating at this diner and I was having a great time talking to the waitress. Suddenly she told me she was in the middle of her divorce and that when it was all over, she'd like to meet me again and could I give her my phonenumber. I hadn't expected the conversation to take that turn. I don't remember what I said to her. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I didn't want to give her my number either. Do women really think I'm in the market? Why? My reputation? I can see that, but I have never contemplated divorcing Hillary. She might have thought about it after my mistake, but I have never thought about it. She had every right to do so. I was wrong and the way she stood up for me. I still feel terrible. You know I bought her a necklace on Amazon. Well actually, my publicist did. I'm computer illiterate. I type with one finger, looking at the keyboard. I bought her this. Pretty right? Well anyway, I don't mind women looking at me that way. It's nice to know I still got some attraction left at my age.

The interview with Larry King, Mr. Live! was lousy. I don't like critisizing people, but the level of the chat was sub par. What kind of questions were those? Those are questions you ask some teenage pop tart. “What was your lowest moment in office, what was your highest moment in office, what's your favorite color.” I used to be president. I wrote a 957 page book. What do I get? Obligatory questions. I don't think he prepares his interviews. What did he ask me that viewers didn't know already? It just went from bad to worse and at the end, during the commercial breaks we weren't even talking anymore. Hey if somebody is too lazy to prepare himself and do a REAL interview, there is nothing much I can do. So if you saw the interview and decided not to buy the book, because I was boring, I ask you to give the book a chance. It wasn't my fault.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

Bad Reviews

There are no book signing events today.

Bill Clinton will appear on:

June 24, 2004 AOL and Infintity Broadcasting AOL.com 1-hour LIVE Town Hall meeting: The President will take calls and e-mails from listeners. 6:00 p.m. ET

June 24, 2004 Larry King Live CNN 9:00 p.m. ET/PT

Are these newspaper critics trying to hurt me or is it really a lousy book? I worked three years on my book and all they do is open a bottle of wine, dip their pen in acid and write a review twenty minutes before their deadline. I know them. I know these snotty nosed East Coast liberals. They've always looked down on me. I'm Bubba, the dumb Southerner, who likes Elvis. For some reason he became a liberal, but still, it takes generation for a farm boy to get his farm mentality out of his thinking. However high you rise, they will never accept you, because you weren’t born in the right place. They'll just use you when you're useful. You know what...

No it does hurt. 3 years of my life, years in university, years in Oxford and I'm still a farm boy trying to put a string of words together in their mind. There I go again. I'm too emotional. My eyes are filling with tears again. I haven't slept all night. I ate 7 tacos. I eat when I'm unhappy, eventhough I'm on the South Beach Diet. I have to lose some weight. At my age I can't carry it around anymore. My back hurts.

I'm angry. They never gave my book a chance. They didn't read 957 pages. They skimmed through it. Their opinion of my book is unjustified. If they would just read it. But no, they got their opinion about this randy fat boy ready, right? What can I do? What if Americans follow their opinion and don't read my book? Why is everybody jumping on the Bash Clinton bandwagon? Why?

No that's not true. The American people support me. Did you see the rows in front of the bookstores? Did you see it? I almost lost my breath when I drove past the queue to enter the bookstores to sign the books. I had never expected this.

There is nothing I love more than to shake hands with normal Americans. To ask them about their lives, their family. I love talking to people. I love people. I love Americans. They are the ones, who gave a poor boy from Hope, Arkansas a life he could only dream of. It wasn't the critics. I owe Americans so much. That's why I did my utmost to repay Americans for their confidence. I mean it took confidence to vote for me in '92. My policies as president were always aimed at helping normal, hardworking Americans trying to raise their families in peace. I understand them. I am one of them. Whatever the critics say, I'm proud to be one of the people.

I understand life. It’s not a wonderful thing. You have to make it wonderful. What makes it wonderful is your first date, your first car, your wife, your children, your friends, your house, for which you worked hard. Life is a work in progress. It can be a bit more or a bit less wonderful. I just wanted to make American's lives a bit more wonderful. That’s all I ever wanted.

I ran into a few Americans in the hotel just before the first event. That's why I was a bit late. I apologize for that. But these Americans were telling me how life had gotten worse after I left office. One of them, named Fred (he's from Racine, Ohio. He asked me to say hi to his wife Jen and his daughter Carrie. They read this diary. By the way Carrie, don't bother your dad about building a swimming pool in the garden. You must understand grown-ups have other priorities. You'll understand in a few years). During the boom years when I was president he was able to start his own company and make a good living. He employed 14 people in Racine. But things took a turn for the worse and he recently had to file for bankruptcy. He blames Bush for his economic woes. What could I say? I wished I was back in office. I wished I could change policies to help this man and many in his situation. But I'm not, so I can't. This just shows you how vital voting for the right man or woman is. Fred urged me to ask Hillary to run in '08 with me as vice president responsible for running the economy. I laughed. He said he looked into it and constitutionally it's allowed. I told him he'd have to ask Hillary. She'd be the president. I had a good long talk with them. They are what's important to me. Not some critics.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

Visit New York

Today's book signing event:

June 23, 2004 Borders Books 100 Broadway New York, NY 12:30 p.m.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Visit New York

Book Signing Schedule for today:

June 22, 2004 Barnes & Noble 600 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 12:30 p.m.

June 22, 2004 Hue-Man Bookstore 2319 Frederick Douglass Blvd. New York, NY 6:30 p.m.

Today is D-day. I feel good. I feel real good. I've slept well. I've eaten a large breakfast with eggs and sausages. I feel like a boxer just before the fight. My book is out now. There is nothing I can do about it anymore. I hope people like it. I heard some Republicans are staging boycotts of my book. What's their problem? Well, at least they don't hold book-burning events. Not yet! But it does put a lot of pressure on me. If I don't sell a lot of books, they'll claim America has had enough of me. That it shows America has moved to the right on moral issues. That Bush and his hardcore conservative policies will win him the election. I don't understand why everything I do is politicized by the Republicans. I'm not a politician anymore. I'm just a writer. But I'm also a fighter. If they want to fight, let's rumble!

I'm really looking forward to meeting everybody and signing the book. It should be fun. I love meeting people. I hope I'll have the time to talk to everybody personally, but I guess that depends on the amount of people who show up.

If you are in New York, I hope you can come by and say hi. If you're not in New York, I hope to see you on another book signing event. If you bought your book here, tell me, so I get to know the people who read this diary.

I want to thank you and all the other people who bought the book. 2 million books have been sold. It's amazing, humbling, too mind boggling to put in words. But I have no time to be emotional right now. I have a job to do. People are waiting for me.

I feel great. Let's roll!

PS: I'll be on the Oprah Winfrey Show today at 4 p.m.

Monday, June 21, 2004

I'm not Happy

I don't know. I don't know. The day began wonderfully. Hillary had to go to Washington. She kissed me goodbye. I mean really kissed me goodbye. Not the obligatory peck on the cheek I had become accustomed to. Our relationship has gone to a deeper level of intimacy these past few days. Chelsea called yesterday. Curly had called her up in tears. He told her he was afraid their relationship was about to go bust and he wanted to talk things out. After Hillary left I received a fax from my publisher. The fax contained the NY Times review of my book. The critic hated my book. She said it was all over the place, too indulgent, too dull. I felt like a sledge hammer hit me in the stomach. I know it's just one critic, but I have worked so hard on my book. So hard and to see my work slaughtered like this brings me to the brink of crying. She's just one person. She's just like those Republicans who were trying to prosecute me after the affair. I'm used to it. I shouldn't get this emotional. But I do. I got a headache. I went back to bed, pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep. It took 3 sleeping pills.

I really, really hope Americans like my book when they get the chance to read it tomorrow. I really hope they like it. What if they don't like it? What have I left if Americans abandon me. I wish Hillary was here right now. I need two arms around me to comfort me. I'm alone. Again. Must I always be alone? Always?

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Making Love

Yesterday I had a wonderful day. I did it. I made love. With Hillary. It was the first time in a long time. I have no idea what happened. We were both in the mood I guess. I was listening to a jazz record. All of a sudden she grabbed my hand, looked deep into my eyes and pulled me up slowly. She put her head on my shoulder, put her arms around me and she danced. I froze for a full minute. I had no idea what she wanted from me. She just wanted to snuggle. I guess I was randy too. I kissed her forehead and we danced for quite a while. After that we ordered lobster from a local restaurant. We made out on the couch like a bunch of love besotted teenagers. I laughed all through dinner. Hillary is very funny, when she wants to be funny. Her imitations are hilarious. Her Teresa Heinz Kerry and Bob Dole imitations are great. I remember we had Christopher Walken and his wife for dinner. I tried to embarrass Hillary, so I asked her to do her Christopher Walken imitation. You know how Chris talks in his movies. She did him. Chris loved it. He couldn't stop laughing. He spent the rest of the dinner under the table.

After dinner we went to bed. I don't know whether I should say what I'm about to say, but I promised to be open about my private life. I'm open about it in my book, so I might as well do the same here.

There is one position I like more than any other. I saw it on one of Arnold Schwarzenegger's movies. The first Terminator movie. In the movie is a sex scene between Linda Hamilton's roommate and her boyfriend. The boyfriend is on top of the woman, doing his thing. She is still wearing her dress and listening to her walkman. She's moving her head and has her eyes closed and she's singing along with the song and acting like there's nobody chipping away on top of her.
I got Hillary to act out the scene many times. At first she'd listen to Bruce Springsteen. I got her to change this to The Ronettes and turn up the volume, so I could hear the song too. There is no sweeter way to make love to a woman than to be on top looking down on her as she's swaying her head, eyes closed and The Ronettes singing "Baby I love you, I love only you" on the background. I don't know why I like this missionary style (and then some) so much. I think it's the fact that your partner acts like nothing's going on. One time I even got Hillary to not just listen to her walkman, but to read the Wall Street Journal at the same time. I love it.

After the affair, she stopped doing it. I spent a long time sleeping on the couch in the White House. I deserved that. After things were Ok between us, the intimacy never returned completely. It did yesterday. Maybe this is a new chapter in our relationship. I really hope so. We ate breakfast together this morning and for the first time in years I felt I belonged. I do love her.

It's Father's Day today. Chelsea will visit us later today. Hillary gave me a present. A book called The Trouble With Islam: A Muslim's Call for Reform in Her Faith written by Irshad Manji. Hillary said it's about a young Muslim woman from Canada, who tries to liberalize Islam, to make it more inclusive. It's in the top sellers lists in Canada, Europe and Asia. It's making quite a splash in the US too. She's had many death threats from muslim fundamentalists. Should be interesting to read the inside views of a liberal muslim woman. Especially with 9-11, Al Qaida, Afghanistan, Iraq and now Saudi Arabia, beheadings and all these suicide bombers. Liberalism and Islam. I'm looking forward to reading this book.

Oh, by the way, Chelsea will come without curly. This day is turning out to be a wonderful Father's Day.

I wish all of you a happy Father's Day.

Saturday, June 19, 2004

Book on Amazon Dot Com

I haven't slept all night. I couldn't. I got out of bed at 3 am and played online poker till 7 to ease my mind. I lost 5 dollars. A woman from Wisconsin took the pot. First time I lost to a woman. That's not true. I lost to Julia Roberts at a game a few years ago in Hollywood. I remember that very well. Julia met Lyle Lovett there that night. She married him a few days later. Her luck ran out.

Tuesday is the big day. The release of my book. If you want me to sign it, here are the dates and places I'll visit on my national book signing tour. If you bought your book through the link on the sidebar, say so when I sign your book. I'm very interested to know who the people are, who read my diary. If you want to see me on television, here is the schedule. Tomorrow night I'll be on 60 minutes with Dan Rather. It was a good interview. I have a good feeling about it.

I did my best writing the book. Can't do more. Still it's hard to open up like I did in my book. It's very intimate and personal. To be honest I don't know what to expect from the public. A hatchet or a pat on the shoulder and a "you did a good job". I'm nervous. Very nervous.

I just received an overview from Amazon. On it I can see two things; which books were sold using the links on this site and how much money Amazon owes me for the referral. Till yesterday, 2 people bought my autobiography, My Life and one person bought Bushwhacked: Life in George W. Bush's America (Vintage), which you get for a 5% reduction in price when you buy my book.
I wish I could see where the buyers live, so I'd know where the readers of this diary are. Is it New York, Ark and a Sas, San Francisco? As I said I only get to see which books were sold through the links here and my referral fee. So if you buy the book here and you come to the signing session, let me know you bought the book here, through a link on my daily diary.

It seems I made 1 dollar and some change in referral fees. That's just wonderful. As I said last week, I'm using these referral fees for my new project. I want to travel around the United States to see what the State of the Nation is after 4 years of Bush. I know how I left it. I want to see with my own eyes what W did with the country he inherited from me.

Notice that the price you pay for my book on Amazon is lower than the price you will pay in bookstores. Amazon's price is 21 dollars. My publisher's list price is 35 dollars, because the book contains 950 pages and many pictures. This means that if you buy your book from a small book store in a small town, you'll probably have to pay about 35 dollars. If you buy it in a big book store in a big city, you'll probably have to pay about 25 to 30 dollars. Amazon sells the books for 21 dollars, because the publisher gave them a good deal after they bought hundreds of thousands of copies of the book. Just keep this in mind when you're deciding whether to buy online or from a bookstore.

2 million books have been ordered. 2 million. It's unbelievable. I'm shocked and honored. And anxious. 2 million ordered my book, but will they like it. That's what's important to me. Will Americans like my autobiography.

Friday, June 18, 2004

Demis Roussos and Giving Flowers

I sent Nancy Reagan a letter yesterday. In it I thank her for her invitation to attend the funeral of her husband and how much it meant to me. I know there are some rumors that I was angry at her, because I didn’t get to talk at the funeral, but this is nonsense. I think it might have been more inclusive if one of the Democratic former presidents had been asked to speak, but I think it was a very dignified state funeral.

Some people wonder what it is like to be sitting next to the Bush’s. After all I sent daddy Bush home after just one term. Thing is, when the presidents are together we all have a great time. There isn’t much bad blood left between any of us. Politics is our job. You work hard, you play hard, but when it’s over, it’s over. On the other hand, there is a lot of venom in the presidents’ wives. I wouldn’t want to meet Barbara Bush in a dark alley at night.

I sent Nancy the Demis Roussos album I link to on the sidebar. It’s the music you want to hear, when you’re sad. It’s just a token of respect. Just something to remember me by. I remember when I was in elementary school and our teacher, Miss Janet had her birthday. In our school it was tradition that when a teacher has a birthday you get to play games all day long and you get candy and other treats from the teacher. The kids were supposed to buy the teacher a present. We were very poor, so I couldn’t afford the pens, books, roses other kids were giving her. Mom gave me some change and told me to buy some flowers. I went to the flower shop. The flowers cost more than I had. I didn’t know what to do. In five minutes I had to be in class. I bought a potted plant and walked to school. My feet felt like iron. I got there. I could see the other kids looking at my potted plant. They were probably wondering whether I had taken it from our garden. The teacher looked at all the presents and thanked everybody. I felt humiliated. I hated being poor.

A year later Miss Janet had a child. School kids were all invited to her house to look at the baby. The whole class went. She asked us to come to the living room. My classmates sat down and looked at the baby. Miss Janet looked at me and pointed at this potted plant with small orange balls in it. It looked like a miniature orange tree. She said “That’s the present you gave me for my birthday. I still got it. It’s beautiful”.

You can’t understand how good this made me feel. It’s not about how big or how expensive the gift is, but how well chosen. If someone is sad I give them the Demis Roussos CD. If someone is getting married I give them the KC and the Sunshine band CD. These gifts go for a long time. As long as they play them, they remember you and the fact you were there when they were sad or happy. Being remembered is important to me.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

The Hunting of the President

It was flashback time for me yesterday. My friend Harry Thomason held the first screening of his documentary about me "The Hunting of the President". The movie will be in theatres beginning this Friday. It's about the right wing machinations during my presidency to use Ken Starr and other tricks to bring me down. They didn't succeed. They asked me whether I still hate Ken Starr. Not as much as I used to. Some might say, he was just doing his job. I disagree. There is a difference between doing your job and being a jerk doing it. Glenn Close was there. Beautiful woman. Moby, Mike Myers and Salman Rushdie were there too. We went out for dinner afterwards. Me and Glenn that is.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Paint my Portrait

Don't want to gloat, but have you seen the presidential portrait Simmie Knox made of me, which will be hung in the White House? Monday, me and Hillary attended the White House ceremony. I wanted to mention it before, but I thought I better wait till I can post the pictures too. Bush said a few words, made a joke, which was actually funny and me and Hillary unveiled the portraits. She has a portrait too. Smaller than mine. I choose Simmie Knox to paint my portrait. Hillary chose Simmie too (How original!). I like his work. He's an African American and normally only paints African Americans. The first time I saw the painting I was confused. It looks like Simmie darkened me up a bit. I don't mind, but I have this feeling that when people look at the painting in 200 years they'll think I really was the first black president.

Chelsea and curly were there too. I didn't want the mongoose there, but what can you do? Chelsea had a major make over. She looks gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing. So why was curly asleep? No, I'm going to enjoy Hillary ripping him apart.

Today I have a speech to make. I prepared myself as best I can. Ad libbing is one of my strong points, so I don't really get frightened by crowds. Oh and I lost 30 bucks to some Texan playing online poker. The first time any Texan has won anything from me. It was an exciting game, so he's welcome to it.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Curly, Cognac, Cigars,

And curly strikes out! As I said before, I don't like curly. I question his love for Chelsea. Apart from that I have this idea he is mocking me. Every time he is at our house he talks about his dad's cigar and cognac collection. Sunday him and Chelsea visited us. I took curly to the mall to buy wine for dinner. In the car I encouraged curly to talk. He gave me a "lesson" in old cognac, good cognac, French cognac. Actually he knew his cognac. We went to the liquor store and I asked him to choose a bottle of cognac for after dinner. He did. With a cocky smirk on his face. I asked him for advise about which cigars to buy. He "showed" me the good ones. He insisted on paying for the cognac, Courvoisier. I hesitated, but if someone wants to buy the rope for his own hanging, who am I to say no?

OK. After dinner, which was pretty good and made by the housekeeper and warmed up by Hillary, I asked curly, who had eaten his belly full, encouraged by me allowing him to dominate the table conversation to come and sit in Hillary's chair next to the fireplace. I was just in time, before Hillary's customary "I'm going to do the dishes" and curly's "Let me help you Mrs. Clinton". I gave curly the cognac bottle. He opened it and sniffed the cork and filled to glasses. He sniffed the glass, looked at the color of the cognac closed his eyes and drank. Curley said "Ah, sweet. You made a good decision, Mr. Clinton. After a good meal is the best time to enjoy cognac". I looked at this young punk. I hate curly. I offered him a cigar, just as Hillary said "I'm going to do the dishes". No response. I was lighting curly's cigar. "Curley, would you like to help?" "I'll be right there Mrs. Clinton". Hillary went into the kitchen and I encouraged curly to tell me all about cognac, cigars, wine, cars, sports. Again came the "Curley, you wanna help?" "I'll be right there, Mrs. Clinton". We were sipping on our second glass and I was still feeding curly. He talked non stop. Chelsea threw her arms in the air and went into the kitchen to help her mom. By this time, me and curly were both feeling sleepy from the cognac, the warmth of the fireplace and dinner. I asked curly "Is it true that when you close your eyes, the cigar tastes much better?" "Oh yes, just try it". I closed my eyes. "Oh yes, you're completely right". Curly smiled sat back and closed his sleepy eyes. careful not to make any sound I got up and walked into the kitchen. I told Hillary "curly wants to ask you something". Ostensibly she wiped her hands on this rag Palestinian president Arafat had given us as a farewell present and walked into the living room. I was behind her, but I could feel her stare as she stopped and looked at curly, lying back in her chair, in one hand a cigar, in the other a glass of cognac, his eyes closed, his face content. I could feel every fibre of her feminist being revolting at this scene. I guess curly noticed the temperature in the room had gone down quite significantly. He half opened his eyes and saw Hillary. "Oh hi, Mrs. Clinton. I'll be right there".

I know my Hillary. She never openly gives her opinion. She just makes you feel her opinion. I know what's next for curly. She's going to cut him a thousand times Native American style. Every time she talks to Chelsea she'll cut him a little. By themselves these cuts aren't deadly, but I know pretty soon Chelsea will come home in tears to tell us curly is not the man she thought he was and that she had broken up with him. For that day, I'm saving the rest of the cognac bottle.
Cheers, curly.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

Remembering Ronald Reagan

It was a beautiful funeral befitting a great president. You must be some guy to have so many Americans mourning you. It made me think abut myself. I could've been a great president. Reagan made our country great again by strengthening the military and defeating the Evil Empire. I made our country great by doubling the national income and providing jobs to groups of people who traditionally had trouble finding jobs, like minorities, women, the handicapped. I made the middle class richer than ever. The stock market hit new highs. We left Europe, Japan and even the much feared China behind us economically. I could've been great. But I gave it all up for a few moments of scoundrelous behavior. People will forget the good I did. They will only remember my moments of weakness. I could've been great. I could've had a funeral like president Reagan. I could've had the same outpouring of sadness. You only have one life. I had the great luck to be president. It's not many people who get the chance to be president. I threw it all away. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. Last night I wept in bed. Silently, because I didn't want to disturb Hillary. How could I have been so stupid? So stupid, stupid!

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Remembering Ray Charles

Another great man died. Ray Charles. I'm a big fan of his music. I've seen him play many times. The first time I was still in college. The last time I was president. It was because of him that I started on the sax. To honor him, I took my sax out of the closet and played a few of his songs. I hadn't played in years. Farewell grandmaster of soul.

Building a Gazebo

I'm on my way to give a speech right now. The people, who hired me are big shot wannabes. Phonies, but it pays good money. I wish I could stay home. I had the most wonderful day. The sun was shining and I decided to prepare my speech sitting in the garden. I saw a flower bud on a pear tree I planted in the garden when we bought the house. If you're not a farm boy, you won't understand the joy I felt. My first flower bud. That means we'll have pears in August. That's just great. I called a few friends of mine to tell them about my pears, but they didn't seem too impressed. City liberals. No, if you're born in Ark and a Sas like me you're a farm boy, whether you were actually born on one or not. I love our garden. I planted all the flowers. Hillary doesn't like flowers. She's a city girl from the Mid West. She says flowers give her a headache. Have you ever heard that? A girl who gets headaches from flowers. Did I get married in the Twilight Zone. Well anyway. That's the kind of girl she is.

I'm thinking about building a gazebo. A glass one. Next to the pear tree. A glass one, because I want to be able to work in it in the fall too. If I use removable glass panels I could use the place both when the sun shines and when it rains. I want to put in some electricity. A table for my notebook, a coffee machine, my books, a couch, maybe a TV. A lock. No, can't do that. A lock might give Hillary the idea I'm building the gazebo just for myself. Not a good tactic, since I need her permission to build one in the first place. But what if she thinks I built it for both of us and in the fall she decides to come and keep me company when I'm in my gazebo? How am I going to enjoy looking out the window at the pears in my pear tree, as the yellow and red leaves fall off the trees and the rain gently hits the roof and I listen to my Ronettes record when she is sitting next to me? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Roger needs Loan

Roger called. He asked for a loan to pay off the arrears in his ex wife's alimony and child support. His ex took him to court. If he doesn't pay, he has to go to jail. I already pay the costs of my nephew's private school. I'm not planning on giving money to a grown man. He used to make a lot of money as a musician and as my brother, but he blew it all on women, fast living and cocaine. Hillary and me paid the costs of the therapy to get rid of his drug habit. No more. Recently they repossessed his SUV. Now he's living in a flee bag hotel in L.A. He claims he can't work, because his arms and legs have swollen up, because of some disease. I think he's just being lazy. I love my brother, but he needs to take responsibility for his own life. I'll let him sweat it out for a bit, maybe the prospect of another stint in jail will force him to grow up.

I also got a call from curly. He asked me if I wanted to go to the Knicks game with him. Huh??? Get a clue, punk, I don't like you. Hey, thinking about it, he called me on my private cell phone. How did he get the number? Oh Chelsea, you should know better. Now I have to look up the manual and learn how I can block his calls. I have no idea where I put the darn manual. Maybe the housekeeper has seen it. Curly, curly, curly.

Monday, June 07, 2004

Curly must go

Curly must go! I suspected he was a weasel. Now I know for sure. Yesterday Chelsea asked him something and he ignored her. Is that how a guy who is supposed to be in love with my daughter and who wants to spend the rest of his life with her reacts? He should be all over her. Maybe it isn't her he's after, but me and Hillary. I think he's fooling her. He also drank three glasses of wine during dinner. Three glasses of my expensive French wine. After that he, as usual offered to help Hillary with the dishes. The first time he offered this Hillary was caught off guard. She hadn't washed anything in years. We have a housekeeper. Hillary, being the woman she is took it in her stride and washed the dishes as she took the measure of curly boy. This forces me to be alone with Chelsea. Very awkward. We resorted to talking about the meat we ate during dinner. We weren't sure whether Hillary had cooked roast beef or chicken. No, I've made up my mind. By God, curly, I'll run you out of this family even if it's the last thing I do.

I've gotten a few e-mails from readers who asked about my choice of drinking a whole bottle of Californian wine. They asked me if I had forgotten that president Reagan's much hated ex-wife Jane Wyman played a vineyard owner in the hit TV series Falcon Crest. I had forgotten this fact. I loved Falcon Crest. I missed the last 4 seasons. I hope to catch them on rerun or DVD. The only reason I drank the bottle of Californian wine was because Reagan was the governor of California. No other reason. I hope all of you follow my example. That is how Irishmen mourn their dead. We drink and toast and sing and laugh and cry and remember the dead.

Sunday, June 06, 2004

Remembering Ronald Reagan

I heard the news. President Ronald Reagan died at age 93. May he rest in peace. I emptied another bottle of wine when I heard this yesterday. A bottle of Californian wine, unlike the first bottle which was French wine. My wife had gotten it from a friend. The French wine was a present from one of my friends. My friends like me.

I liked Reagan. Not his politics, but his close bond with the American people. There are two presidents who made an impression on me. Kennedy for his idealism and Reagan for his forcefulness in getting his message across. He was a lot like me. Irish, Protestant, harsh poor youth without a father. The luck of the Irish and a goddamn amount of hard work brought us on top. I feel very close to Reagan. He was a good man. May God bless him.

Chelsea is visiting today. With curly. I hate curly. He is polite, but I can feel it's fake politeness. He belongs to the East Coast establishment. I remember we were eating and my wife asked me for my opinion about a legal matter and this dickhead cut me off and gave his opinion. Can you believe that? He just came out of university. What kind of opinion can he have? Based on what? I've been in politics for 30 years. Same goes for Hillary. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had a fork in my hand. I swear I was about to poke his eye out. Chelsea probably saw my face and changed the subject. I don't like these privileged punks. Wouldn't surprise me if he snorts cocaine.

As you can see I've added some links to Amazon on the right. Readers have been e-mailing me about the music I was talking about in my posts. I put up the link to make it easier to find the albums. The quality ones, that is. There is a lot of rubbish on the market. That's the reason I didn't link to any Neil Sedaka album. The ones they sell at Amazon don't have all his hits on it. Others are rerecorded. Rubbish. The links I provide link to quality products only.

I read on the Amazon site I will receive a small percentage of every sale made through this site. I know what I'm going to use the money for. I have had this idea for months. I want to travel around the United States and just see the State of the Nation. I know how I left it. I want to know how much damage W has done. I will change my hair, put on some glasses and just travel around, unnoticed like an average man. I will talk to the people, read the local newspapers, look around and just immerse myself in the real America. Find out what's happening to real people. I will report about my travels and the State of the Nation here. That's what I will use the Amazon money for.

Saturday, June 05, 2004

Chelsea slapped me

I am depressed. Chelsea just called to ask if she could come over for the weekend. I had to resort to lies. I told her I had an appointment and that she should come tomorrow. I can't handle being alone with her. There is a lot of hurt still remaining from my stupid mistake with miss Lewinsky.

No, the real truth is, Chelsea beat me. My daughter hit me. That was when the affair came out. She said "Jerk" and slapped me in the face. I could handle Hillary's reproaches. She had the right, she is my wife, but not Chelsea. She is my daughter. She has the right to be angry at me. She did not have the right to hit me. I brought her up for all those years, when she was a little girl. There is nothing worse for a parent than being hit by your own child. Except maybe if your child dies. There is still a lot of pain, because of that. A lot of pain in me. I love my daughter to death, but there is distance between us. I act like a father. She acts like a daughter, but the innocence has gone.

There is nothing more in my life I would like more than for Chelsea to put her arms around me, look in my eyes and say "I'm sorry, daddy". I want her to talk to me so bad. I want my little girl back. I want things to be as they were. Chelsea, I love you sweetie, please come back.

This is a very emotional subject for me that I can't talk about without crying. I've been in this mood the whole morning. Ever since she called. The weather is almost fall like here. I closed the curtains. I opened a bottle of wine and put one of my favorite albums in the CD player. Demis Roussos (see sidebar). He's a Greek singer, a bit like Neil Diamond, who used to be one of Europe's best selling artists. He didn't do much on this side of the Atlantic, though he sings in English. I heard him sing when I was in France. His music fits my mood perfectly. It's sad, like a Greek tragedy. His music always makes me cry when I'm in a melancholic mood, like today. It's good to cry once in a while. It clears up the air and allows the sun to shine through. At least for a while.

Friday, June 04, 2004

Visit Catskills

Good morning. It's a beautiful day! I went to the Catskills yesterday. I haven't driven that amount of miles for years. I stopped at a roadside restaurant on my way. The building is made of logs. I ate a bison meat steak there. That was my first time. It tastes like beef, but with a deeper meat taste. I liked it very much. Maybe I should accept Ted Turner's invitation to do some fly fishing on his bison ranch in Montana. I like Ted. It's just his constant whining about the environment I dislike. And the way he talks. A bit like a donkey. EeeAaaa, umh...Theee...Aaaaa... You can't conduct a normal conversation with him. I just had to laugh. I was thinking what would a conversation between word challenged Bush and Old Teddy sound like. Hahaha.

Something stupid happened yesterday. I got a call from my agent that I was supposed to do the keynote speech at the BookExpo in Chicago. I had completely forgotten this. I stopped at the nearest airport and was picked up by a helicopter. I was late, but I got a standing ovation when I arrived. I adlibbed the whole speech. I got a standing ovation. Right after that I got a lift back to the Catskills and I continued my journey by car.

I didn't get to see Neil Sedaka, but I did see Ronnie Spector perform. She used to sing for the Ronettes(see sidebar). "Be my Baby" and "Baby I love you, I love only you". She aged beautifully, like most brunettes. I bought her CD. I played it all the way home. There is nothing better than driving through the dark, listening to love songs by beauties from the sixties. I had a great time yesterday. Oh yeah, when I got home, Hillary wanted to do it. I didn't. I just wanted to close my eyes and dream away. Don't ask. She's in Washington now.

By the way, a commenter asked about Buddy, my dog. He died two years ago in a traffic accident. I miss the little fellow. A lot. For a long time he was the only one who was happy to see me when I came home. I miss him a lot.

I have a speaking engagement to attend today, so that's what I'm preparing myself for right now.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Hillary is Angry

Outside it's a beautiful warm day. Inside it's freezing. She's angry I didn't read her papers. She was in a foul mood when she came home two hours ago. No kiss, no nothing. Just "did you read my papers?" I told her I fell asleep. That I must've been exhausted, cause of the book. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I thought we could spend the day together, but now I have to read the papers". She put all her paper all over the living room. I was sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading the newspapers, but every time I made a noise, she gave me a stare, so I went into the kitchen and just stayed there. I was planning to watch a program on TV, but I don't dare to remove the papers she put on the couch. Great day at home with my wife of 25 years! Yeah, well who cares. It was worth it. The rest yesterday did me a lot of good.

I feel real pumped up. I really want to do something today. I just don't know what. As long as it is outside of the house. Maybe I should just get in the car and drive around a bit. Hey, I'll drive upstate. To the Catskill mountains. Should be beautiful at this time of year. Grab a bite from some roadside restaurant. Man, haven't done this in years. Should be fun. Wait a minute, maybe I'll even catch a show in one of the resorts. Neil Sedaka plays in the Catskills. Maybe he's there now. Oh Carol, I am but a fool. I should've married you. The one I got, treats me so cruel. Damn. Maybe somebody else. All righty, boy, get on your horse and git.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Hillary Curly Chelsea

The dragon lady just called. She'll be home tomorrow. She reminded me she had asked me to look through some legal papers for her senate commission. I really don't want to do that. Damn. I just can't get myself to do it. Not today. I'll have to make up some excuse tomorrow. I know she'll look at me with that "You let me down again" look. Yeah, yeah, shut up.

Chelsea called. Still with that curly head with his fake politeness.

I'll deal with her tomorrow. Hillary, that is. I mean I just finished a book of more than 900 pages. She could've been a bit more considerate towards me.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

I woke up this morning. Looked to my right. Thank God Hillary's in Washington. I really don't have the stomach to be with her today. I'm in that mood where I just want to be left alone. I got up and went downstairs. Didn't even bother with a bathrobe.

Hey you know what song was on the radio when I turned it on? "Only a fool breaks his own heart". Love that song. Well I made coffee, looked through the papers. I took one look at the Arkansas Gazette and threw it to the side. Small time politics, small town living, it used to be everything for me, but now I only get tired of the small mindedness of small town folks. A robbery here, not enough money for schools there, a drunk diver causes an accident, haggling about a pothole. It's life, but geez, get over it.

The NYT and the WP had nothing interesting on the front page. To be honest. I didn't really care for news today. I just want to sit on the couch and watch TV. That's what I've been doing. Thank God my book's finished.