Bob McManus – Once upon a time, when I was editing this newspaper’s opinion pages, somebody decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have a slightly more cordial relationship with the Rev. Al Sharpton.
So there we were, in a Manhattan steakhouse, discussing not much because it quickly had become clear that Sharpton enjoyed being New York’s premier racial grievance-monger, so there was no common ground to be had.
But he did show a flicker of interest in a $350 cognac on the after-dinner menu — glancing over with amusement in his eyes as the waiter hovered. “If you do, reverend,” I said, “I’m asking for separate checks.” Continue reading