High life
Class matters
Taki
ee whiz! I've been in the wrong busi- ness all this time. Thirty years of writing rubbish and sweating over my simple prose, when I could have been giving orders all around and taking bows. Living the life of an editor, that is.
`Top Drawer', my tiny organ, appears fortnightly as a section of the New York Press, a weekly newspaper with a circula- tion of 120,000. The plan is to go weekly, once I find more writers. We already lost one — a woman — to Rupert Murdoch. He had his lackey, John Podhoretz — a man so cheap, when his wife asked him to take her dancing he took her to the Hare Krishnas at the airport — hire my blonde for the kind of money the Draft Dodger just paid out to Paula Jones for whipping it out.
If you're still with me, this is how it goes. The poor little Greek boy finds a pretty blonde who can write, loses her to a rich Australian, but finds his real calling in life, which is interviewing various girls for 'Top Drawer'. In the meantime, the editorial meetings are held on Sunday nights at the Park Avenue Bistro, where large amounts of wine are consumed, mostly by the British-born writer on the staff, one Toby Young. It is a fun life, especially when we come up with a good idea. For example: my deputy — sounds great, doesn't it? Sam Schulman, came up with the idea of the Taki-Top Drawer prize. This consists of a grand dinner at Elaine's followed by the prize giving. First prize will be awarded to the man or woman who this year showed reckless disregard to self-interest in pursuit of the truth. The second Taki prize will be awarded to the man or woman who showed reckless disregard to the truth in pursuit of self-interest.
The person who will award the prizes for some strange reason I don't think the recipient of the second prize will show aP — will be Tim Vogel, a hero fighter-pilot in Vietnam, a man who flew a record 220 mis- sions. Tim's father was killed flying in Korea, and he was portrayed by William Holden in the film The Bridges of Toko-Ri. Tim's mother was played by Grace Kelly. Both his brothers are still serving in the armed forces. I can't think of a better man than Tim and we are honoured he accepted the invitation.
Mind you, it's not all fun and games. Last Sunday night I had to come up with ideas as everyone else was too hungover from the night before. My idea was a simple one, even if I say so myself. The Big Bagel Times magazine devoted a whole issue to status in a class-free society. I thought most of it was rubbish, especially one part where the writ- er insisted that Americans do not care to join private clubs any longer because clubs are racist and sexist. Americans are desper- ate to join clubs because of these reasons alone. So we are running a whole issue devoted to class, and how important it is to be born with a silver spoon in one's mouth. After all, anyone can make it if they try hard enough. It will be a defence of privi- lege and of elitism. It will also come to the defence of the Bertie Woosters whom everyone dumps on nowadays. Toby young will defend the institution of the monarchy; I will write about good manners, and how good manners are almost impossible to attain if one is busy trying to screw one's fellow man. Meilik Keylan, a wily Turk, will explain how there are superior and inferior races, even among the Turks. Sam will han- dle education, and how the upper classes should have an automatic entry into good schools.
If it sounds politically incorrect, it sure is. That is the whole purpose of the exercise. Editors nowadays are scared shitless in case they insult some minority. In America, it makes for very dull reading. We hope to change some of that and have fun in the process. And speaking of editors, I have just received a very nice note from John Witherow, editor of the mighty Sunday Times. Having written the 'Atticus' column for close on five years, I will now devote myself to 'Top Drawer'. The ST not only paid me an enormous amount of money all these years, they also put up with my con- stant complaining and protected me when low-blow artists like Mohamed Fayed tried to blacken my name. I will now write the occasional piece for them, and continue with the first love of my life, The Spectator. Mind you, as editor of 'Top Drawer', I am already beginning to like the sound of my own voice and, worse, writers are starting to pay attention when I speak. What a fool I've been all these years.
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