But your reply beat me to it.

Or Bernie.

cook the dinner too.

A rational view of the military relative to politics

I’d love to hear his stories and pick his brain.

Five of his films are in my all time top ten.

He is unbelievably smart, a thoughtful speaker, and cute as a bug.

Although it appears that his health is failing.
I always appreciated his commentary.

I would just like my father back. He was the smartest person I have ever known.

He was so great at it. A gifted observer I would say.

My dad was the smartest most practical person I ever knew. He made me believe I was amazing. I used to call him every day on my way home from work to talk about anything and everything. He died really young, in his 60’s. I miss him terribly.

I’m happy he isn’t living through this mess and I’d give anything to be able to talk with him now.

Wouldn't harm you for giving him three hours of curses.

Just to be able to visit Germany again, have a delicious authentic schnitzel and the world’s best beer, and brush up on my German.

And to get some Central European perspective on the USA’s late-capitalism, fall-of-Rome situation.

US regime about to commence.

Their bone-dry wit. And their wonderful personal warmth once they get to know you. I have been the beneficiary of German generosity on more than one occasion.

itself was in their house and the Mrs. would bring me pretzels and cokes at the table, while dad would have his beer and talk with his German friends. I'm sure the war was a topic of conversation since this was the late '40s. All such wonderful people.

someone who shall not be named, even though this be purely hypothetical and counterfactual.

Hillary too. I would just shut my mouth and suck in all the knowledge. They wouldn't have any memory of the evening, but I'd be writing in my diary. I would ask him some pointed questions about how he really felt how Gingrich et al treated him. Wouldn't accept bs answer.

Is there a trapdoor under the guest's chair?

From his 1959 book Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems

“I was very Marxist in college, but couldn’t make it with the regular Commie bunch because of my individualistic-bohemian-anarchist tendencies, all much looked down upon. Of course, being the only real member of the proletariat in the bunch of them, the others being upper middle class New York kids as a rule, they really couldn’t say much. I took anthropology—Indians—and literature at Reed and got much involved with primitive religion, mythology and primitive literature—song, ritual, dance—and at about the same time was beginning to read Far Eastern history and Chinese poetry. I was married for about six months then and my left-wing wife didn’t dig this sudden interest in Oriental philosophy and Shoshone folk tales. Out of college, I spent the summer of 1951 as a log-scaler on an Indian reservation, where I dug the Berry Feast and later made up the poem about it, and then went on a long hike in the Olympic Mountains. Up in the mountains, all the notions that had been swarming in my head crystallized and sort or hung there until the Fall of that year I picked up a copy of D. T. Suzuki, writing about Zen, and read it while hitchhiking to a graduate fellowship at Indiana in anthropology. It finished the job, and although I stayed one semester at Indiana, I was through with the academic world and headed back West in ’52 for what proved to be five years of mountain jobs, scenes in San Francisco, Chinese language study, writing poetry, and so on, until I first came to Japan. Then I was at sea on a tanker for eight months, in San Francisco and back In Japan again. I love to roam around and I like tough self-discipline, I don’t mind hard work, and being poor never bothered me. I guess that’s what makes it possible to carry on like I do. Being free don’t mean evading necessity, it means outsmarting it.”

Per her voting record, she listens to reason and is willing to change direction if she can be convinced. Being battered and threatened by the incoming new administration makes her susceptible to changing parties and maybe bring a couple of friends with her. Maybe we won't win on votes but if we can get the majority, we can stop some of the madness. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

or maybe Frank Zappa…..

But, they'd better not have any sharp instruments on the table. I'm 63, not much time left on this dying planet. What have I got to lose?

I'd happily skip eating and listen to her talk.

If the stipulation is we have to talk politics, okay, but I just want to see her again.

One of the smartest liberals in the country, IMHO.

To find out whether he is wacked out or merely an opportunist. Also it might not do any good, but I would like to make my case to him.

Say that he couldn’t as president. I’d like to hear Jill’s take on all this too.

I've seen almost all of her movies and I would ask her questions about how she developed her characters, her interactions with other actors, the film she had the most fulfillment from working on, her creative process.

him.

I would serve him Tender Vittles and Ramen while I had a nice Ribeye and a bottle of wine. He needs to see how the 99.9% live under his "presidential" policies. Plus, I have never had dinner with a raving lunatic before. Insults galore would be flying.

No explanation.

Pete Buttigieg

interests of mine.

Laser focused too.

Not because I don’t have an answer, but because I often have way too many. I’m easy to please.

This time, I do have a candidate.

Lucy Worsley

She’s the ultimate nerd of the things I like hearing about. I doubt I’d do much more than smile and nod during the dinner.

But i don’t want to talk politics very much at all. It’s too hopeless.