Russian Ramblings

Sydney Pollack and Dustin Hoffman lunching at The Russian Tea Room.

According to statistical data (and what's more important than that these days?), this blog is being read by more Russians than ever before. Last week 414 of those blankety-blank Commies read my musings, and for what reason I wonder? Damn Ruskies, who do they think they are coming over here and doing whatever the heck they want in our country? With the exception of that shred of a pittance of an iota of a possibility that they might have caused Hillary Clinton to lose the election, they spell trouble with a capital T, and that rhymes with P and that stands for pool. Oh wait, that's something else entirely; never mind.

Anyway, I've never met a Russian I didn't like. That's because I've never met a Russian. So I am confused by all the hand-wringing and hair-pulling because our President has talked, and possibly even consorted, with some of them. Considering that all of us inhabit the same planet, it seems to me we should have the leaders of the world's second most powerful country over to dinner, or at least lunch or brunch or cocktails, every so often. Who knows, maybe even exchange a few Christmas gifts -- anything to avoid Armageddon.

For those Russians reading this now, and my stats say there are 66 of you, I'd like to say I adore those furry hats you guys wear in the winter, and I also love drinking White Russians, although they are quite high in calories so I don't make a habit of it. And who doesn't like The Russian Tea Room in New York city, locale of perhaps the funniest scene in Tootsie that featured the wonderful director, producer and actor, my hero Sydney Pollack? Sadly, Sydney died in 2008. I miss him so.