Quiz Show for Candidates.

• Author: Durst, Will
• Position: Brief Article

Nine out of ten historians agree Reagan picked George Bush Sr. in an effort to appear Presidential. In turn, Bush had to scrape the bottom of the barrel with an Exacto Knife to come up with Quayle. If George W. is indeed destined for an August balloon inundation, who the hell could he possibly choose?

Wally Cox is dead.

Barney Fife was a fictional character.

And Mr. Bean was born on foreign soil.

But let's be fair to Georgie. Each candidate should be grilled on subjects as arcane as foreign policy was to George W. Just turn the debates into a TV quiz show and call it, So You Want to Be the Guy Millionaires Suck up to?

* Steve Forbes: Name the four top-selling brands of motor oil.

* Al Gore: List these four Beastie Boys albums in order of release: A. Paul's Boutique. B. License to Ill. C. Check Your Head. D. Hello Nasty.

* Pat Buchanan: Name four countries in Africa. South Africa doesn't count.

* Bill Bradley: Name all five original Spice Girls.

* John McCain: Name the winners of the World Series during the years 1968-1973.

* Donald Trump: What are the names of your children?

San Francisco, where displaced low-income tenants will be eligible for a $4,500 relocation fee. I don't mean to be glib, but in this housing market, 95 percent of us are low-income tenants.

So, the deal is, it seems we were a wee mite premature writing off the Cold War. It looked like it was over, a history page in the archives, way gone, say bye. Many smarter people than I were quoted as saying, "Stick a fork in it."

Well, put the fork back on the spoon rest because apparently there are folks who need the Cold War like environmentalists need timber baron Charlie Hurwitz. Guess what? It's back!

How can this be? Hadn't Reagan stomped the Red Bear into bankruptcy court? Well, yeah, but somebody must have been watching the Superstation's "Fifteen Days of Bond" a little too closely.

Bugging our State Department, for crum's sake. What a wacky prank. Planting a listening device in the wooden molding of a chair in the State Department's seventh-floor conference room. That's so darn fifties.

You watch, fedoras are going to make a comeback. And after seeing us kick Serbian butt in their own backyard, the Red Army seems to be playing, the Chechnyan card like they've got something to prove. At least John Le Carre, Jack Higgins, and Art Buchwald are happy. Not to mention Jesse Helms.

Reno, the forgotten little brother of Las Vegas they keep in the attic of Nevada.

The airlines...