With all the complaints about the Alito hearings lacking in excitement, it’s easy to see how so many people missed this outrageous exchange in the middle of yesterday’s session:

Senator Specter: How would you weigh that consideration on the woman’s right to choose?

Senator Grassley: Mr. Chairman, I would like to verify the witness’s statement. For years now a growing number of my constituents have been of Italian decent, and I’ve come to know them well. They have honored me with their support and with their friendship. Indeed, I can proudly say that some of my very best friends are Italian-Americans. However, Mr. Chairman, at this time, very unfortunately, I have to leave these proceedings in order to preside over a very important committee, my own committee. But before I leave I do want to say this: that these hearings are in no way whatsoever a slur upon the great Italian people. Because I can state from my own knowledge and experience that Italian-Americans are among the most loyal, most law-abiding, patriotic, hard-working American citizens in this land. And it would be a shame, Mr. Chairman, if we allowed a few rotten apples to give a bad name to the whole barrel. Because from the time of the great Christopher Columbus up through the time of Enrico Fermi right up until the present day, Italian-Americans have been pioneers in building and defending our great nation. They are the salt of the earth, and they’re one of the backbones of this country.

That would be President George W. Bush, according to calypso singer Harry Belafonte. On a recent trip to Venezuela where he enjoyed the company of dictator Hugo Chavez, Belafonte had this to say: “No matter what the greatest tyrant in the world, the greatest terrorist in the world, George W. Bush says, we’re here to tell you: Not hundreds, not thousands, but millions of the American people … support your revolution.” (I’d hate to be his agent right now.) I know, it’s not surprising. But it’s nevertheless disappointing.

Not that I ever read Parade magazine, ever, but it just happens to be a part of the Sunday insert and while I’m sifting through coupons (yes, I would rather admit to that than reading Parade), I noticed the current cover story by Gail Sheehy:

She is the experienced woman–open to love, sex, new dreams and spirituality and committed to revitalizing marriage. And there are millions more just like her. Now Is Her Time

And until now it wasn’t? So what does this “experienced woman” want? Just a few highlights: Good conversation, mutual sexual pleasure with emotional connection, not to be tied down… Doesn’t the latter contradict the … oh never mind.

As for what the “Seasoned Woman” offers: A ‘what-the-hell, life-is-short’ joie de vivre, emotional stability, a knowledge of what she wants sexually and the appreciation of a good lover … In the bedroom and beyond, she knows exactly who she is.

In short, The New Seasoned Woman is … horny?

What turned out to be a crucial defensive win for the Redskins on Saturday could have easily been a disaster in OT, what with the incident involving Skins safety Sean Taylor and Bucs RB Michael Pittman. Apparently, Taylor was “jawing” and accidentally allowed a particle of his saliva to touch a part of Pittman’s helmet. Pittman then overreacts and strikes Taylor across the head. For this, Taylor is the one who gets ejected from the game. Ejected! Don’t we know people who tend to spit a lot when they speak? Aren’t we mostly polite and pretend to ignore that it happened? That you’ve just felt something hit your face or even possibly land in your drink? Couldn’t that have been the case? (And that when Taylor accidentally spits, he hocks loogies? And that he also accidentally did the same to a Bengals wide receiver last year? And that his upcoming criminal court trial is nothing but a farce?)

If you haven’t yet seen this incomparable full-scale demolition of James Frey’s credibility, go to it. Frey is the Oprah-approved author of the bestselling nonfiction memoir A Million Little Pieces, words that aptly describe the state of Frey’s reputation now that this is out.

Frey’s book is an apologetic memoir of his days as a raging drug addict and incarcerated criminal. His life, he claims, was deeply affected by the tragic death of a close friend in a train accident. Turns out, Frey never spent more than a few hours in jail and had no connection to the victim of a well-known train accident that he has appropriated and distorted for his own dramatic purposes. Along the way, he appears to have made up scores of little lies to fill out his tale as a bad boy who turned his life around.

The article, which must be five or six thousands words long, is actually a model of the form. The commentary is but lightly snide and never digressive. Here’s to The Smoking Gun!

What does the Cake Editrix have to say about this?

President Bush met with current and former secretaries of state and defense yesterday for an open and often frank discussion about the situation in Iraq.

Those in attendance included former Secretary of Defense Harold Brown, former Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger, Burt Reynolds, former Secretary of State Colin Powell, Dom DeLuise, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, Dean Martin, Vice President Dick Cheney, Sammy Davis Jr., Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, Farrah Fawcett, former Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird, Jackie Chan, former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, Roger Moore, former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, Jamie Farr, former Secretary of Defense William Perry, Bert Convy, former Secretary of Defense William Cohen, and Adrienne Barbeau. (photo by Eric Draper)

…a singer with vocals quite as deep, raspy, and soulful (not to mention bass-laden) as Lou Rawls. The always cool R&B vocalist died this morning at Cedar-Sinai Medical Center at the not-so-old age of 72, a victim of lung cancer. I remember when I first discovered Rawls. I was still a kid in New Jersey, flipping through channels, and stumbled across his telethon (could it have been WOR-9? WPIX-11?). The highlight, of course, was when he capped things off with his trademark songs “You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine” and “Lady Love.” (I used to occasionally confuse him with Don Cornelius, the host of Soul Train.)

In addition, there may never be as cool a rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” as his.