Keef and Bill Re-Enact ‘My Dinner With Andre’

Posted on July 8, 2011

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Words fail.

First saw this picture in the latest issue of Rolling Stone. Great caption, too: “Spying police outside, Richards talked Clinton into carrying his doggy bag.”

And that got my mind to thinking… It’s difficult trying to imagine these two debating the Iranian nuclear dilemma over snackies and drinks at some chi chi New York supper joint. And, while I’m sure they share certain predilections, Keith Richards and Bill Clinton do not appear, at first blush, to fall anywhere near the category of kindred spirits, bosom buddies, or even casually acquainted Manhattan scenesters. Is it safe to assume that there were handlers present, as well? I have to think so. Keef, because he probably hasn’t poured a glass of water, purchased a pack of cigarettes, or chopped  a line of coke for himself since the mid ’60’s and Clinton because, well, I don’t know. It just seems like there would need to be someone there to make sure Mr. Clinton doesn’t lose face:

“Mr. Richards, um, President Clinton would like to ask you if you’re enjoying your tagliatelle bolognese. Could you stop fidgeting with your hat and bouncing your knee and face this way, please? Hands on your lap, Mr. Richards. Th…on your lap. No, your lap. Thank you.”

And I have to think that this happened, too: after the plates have been cleared and Keith lights up a Marlboro Red directly under the ‘No Smoking’ sign, Clinton goes into a story about how he and Chelsea used to 2-step to ‘She’s My Little Rock and Roll’ in the Arkansas Governor’s mansion. Keef scratches his nose and cocks his head to the side, knee bouncing up and down, and spies the waitress attending to the adjacent table.

“Darlin,” he says. “Go in the kitchen and tell Donald I’m ready for me dessert now.”

The server gives him a blank look. “Sir, there’s no one in the kitchen named Donald.”

Keith, unfazed, replies, “Just go in the kitchen and make an announcement. ‘Dah-nold, Mr. Richards is ready for his snow puddin’ now. Go on,” he says, making a ‘run along child’ gesture with his left hand as he turns back to face Clinton.

Two minutes later, the server comes back with dessert menus for the table. She gives Keith his menu first; his looks to be slightly bulging. While Clinton and his handlers take their menus, Keith looks left, right and behind him before holding the menu over his lap and opening it up wide. A brown paper bag falls into his napkin with a gentle ‘thup.’

Keith puts the menu on the table and looks up at Clinton with a big grin. “Think I’ll take my dessert at home with Patti tonight,” he rasps. “Looks like they made me up something special in the kitchen. My grip’s a little weak, though, your majesty.” He holds up the bag. “Would you mind carryin’ this out for me and givin’ it to me limo driver?”

Look at the picture again and tell me this didn’t really happen…

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Posted in: Music, Politics