In my youth, I would have wished to spend a pleasant evening with Caroline Kennedy, daughter of JFK. I grew up with her, albeit at a distance geographically and socially. We were born 4 days apart. I felt bad when she lost her dad at a young age, and then I lost my dad shortly thereafter at a similarly young age. She was a major babe when I was a major dude and I majorly crushed on her for years. Oh, did I forget to mention that she was a wealthy Kennedy? That may have played a small role (or bank roll) in my feelings. But rather than Caroline, the Kennedy I spent last night with was …
Jim Flanigan Looks at the World 