This one hurt:I was listening to the Diane Rehm Show on the radio while driving home, and her guest was a fiction writer who was complaining about the war. Since I had come in during the middle of the interview, I wasn't exactly sure who the writer was. As he went on an anti-Bush screed - blaming him for stifling freedom of speech & basically saying that dissent in and of itself is the greatest American virtue, and providing all the anti-war/anti-Bush talking points - I was fiercely rolling my eyes and thinking loudly "give me a break!! Who is this moron?" But as he related questionable history to support his argument and as I noticed the age of his voice, I started getting a sneaky suspicion of who it might be. "Please don't be E.L. Doctorow," thought I. "Please, PLEASE!" I'd never heard him talk before - but I just had the sinking feeling. I really really love Doctorow - bar none, he's my favorite living novelist. I knew he was on the left & had seen an article or two in the NATION but I chose deliberately to pass over them. I wasn't yet aware that he'd been the speaker at a commencement speech at Hofstra where he received a notable, if mixed, reception for calling Bush a liar. But by that point the show took the first call and my fear was confirmed. The caller greeted the writer as.....Mr. Doctorow.

The pain went straight into my heart. I'm generally alright with my entertainers being on the wrong side of the war. I raz them and make fun of them because I believe if someone has something laughable about them, then they should be spent in that way. I still like Sean Penn and Mike Farrell, if not Norman Mailer, amongst others. And I still have a need for entertainment. But this one got to me.