Republican Sen. Conrad Burns, whose re-election campaign is pressing for tighter immigration controls, referred to his house painter as “a nice little Guatemalan man” and suggested that worker as well as employees of a roofing company he hired might be in the country illegally.
Lists fascinate Americans. Compiling them in fact has become an industry that generates untold amounts of revenue, builds life-saving circulation for magazines, provides after-dinner entertainment and causes heartburn for those who get left off them. From the best-dressed to the best-undressed, there seems to be no end to what gets measured.
Isn’t it part of a teenager’s job description to be stupid, I mean daring, or, er, rebellious? Far be it for me to criticize teenagers who flout mortality, experiment beyond the brink of realistic thinking and generally push boundaries to their breaking points. That’s what I did as a teen in the sacrilegious ’70s, and for the most part I treasure that carefree — some might say thought-free — period of my life.