Words to Live By Since 1993 A SPIFF Publication Vol. 2, No. 9 It's hard to predict the future when they keep changing the past. Spiff Playhouse Act I, Scene I: Moscow 1969... As dawn broke over the distant Kremlin spires, a train pulled into the Klimamorasovakova train station on the outskirts of Moscow. The faint smell of a coming winter storm drifted on the cold November wind. Waiting for the train, a dark figure stood in the shadows of the empty station. Clouds of steam from the slowing engine drifted across the platform, making it difficult for him to see into the cars of the train. The figure shifted nervously, impatient to get his meeting over with and get out of the biting cold. Again he strained to see through the passenger car windows, becoming more angry as each passed by. He wasn't there. Where was that little fool? As frustration threatened to overtake him entirely, the train came to a halt. The noise of an opening door caught his attention and he turned with anticipation to watch the passengers exit the car. The door slid aside and a young man stepped onto the platform, carrying only a backpack full of uninhaled herbs and bearing a nervous smile. The waiting figure moved quickly to greet the youth, his footsteps fell heavily on the wooden platform as he strode purposefully toward the young man. The two men, unsure at first, greeted each other and turned to leave the station. They exchanged the code words: "McGovern in '72." The figure was relieved to find his young comrade on the train and allowed himself to relax a bit. The two walked more slowly as they talked. The youth's grasp of the Russian tongue was less than he had hoped, so they spoke in English. The figure gave him the needed maps and information to more easily get around the Soviet capital, then handed him a neat bundle of papers and folders, not yet shredded. The youth flipped quickly through the documents with a confused look on his face, which was normal. "I don't understand this," he said as he bit his lower lip. "Health care? Political correctness? Worst economy in 50 years? Change? I don't get it." The figure smiled knowingly and patted him on the shoulder. "I know, son, just do as you're told," he said. "Just take these back to your girlfriend and wait about 20 years. You will understand." Still unsure but trusting of his friend, the youth nodded his head. The last dying blasts of steam swept around them as the figure gave some final words of encouragement to his young friend. The two men shook hands once more, then parted company. The youth turned to leave, but remembered one final question for his mysterious counterpart. "How can I get in touch with you? What is your name?" The man leaned in close to him and said, "Ames, Aldrich Ames. But don't worry. I will always be near you." The youth shoved all of the papers, still unshredded, into his backpack, looked at his map of the city, and headed toward the golden arches, er, spires. The first snowflakes of the winter storm danced around him in the cold morning light. Act II, Scene I: Washington, D.C. 1994... The telephone of CIA official Aldrich Ames rang with an urgent call from the White House. Ames knew what it was about, and knew that his friend had no choice.... The preceding was an original work of Spiff fiction. Or was it? They're All Lost! Remember a few months ago when Owl Gore got lost in the woods on his own family farm? You would have thought that he could have talked with the trees to find his way out, but the trees, possibly in a toxic-waste-induced stupor, couldn't help him. The secret service had to help him out. This time Bill Clinton got lost _ geographically, not in his normal manner. During one of his daily jogging extravaganzas, (Thud! Thud!) Bill turned the wrong way (to the left, we're sure) into a dead-end alley. We here at Spiff wonder if, in the spirit of cooperation and teamwork, the cabinet, the uncut White House staff, and even President Clinton will emulate Bill and Owl and just get lost. *Last-Minute Notice! Spiff has determined that the Surgeon General, yes, Joycelyn Elders, will be speaking at Langford Auditorium at Vanderbilt at 3:00 Wednesday. Those of you who enjoy having your intelligence insulted please join us there. Quote of the weak: "Obviously our Medicaid system had to be developed by a white male slave owner because our present system supports healthy, uneducated people_which can only be slaves." Joycelyn Elders* Quote of the strong: "Speech delivery counts for little on the world stage unless you have conviction." Ronald Reagan Words to Live By is published every week at about this time by Spiff. You can send a fax to us here in the Spiff Executive Plaza, towering over beautiful downtown Donelson, Tennessee at 615-883-0435.