Look Who’s Coming to Dinner: Hitler, Jesus, Mae West

Ann Wells of Laguna Niguel suggests a parlor game that is not unfamiliar, but it’s fun.

Simple. In her words, “We ask our guests to name one person, living or dead, whom they would want to invite to the next gathering.”

I believe I have played this game before, and my person was always Cleopatra.

However, Ms. Wells gives the game a new perspective: “On one of the most memorable evenings our guests named the following: Hitler (the guest didn’t admire him--he wanted to tell him off) Jesus (everyone seemed surprised and one remarked that he didn’t think Jesus would liven things up much).” A Ms. Lowell, who was William Buckley’s second-grade teacher, picked him. Others picked Charles Lindbergh, Mark Twain, Gen. Douglas MacArthur and Mae West.

Of that group, I would pick Mae West first. I interviewed her once, and she certainly was a wit. I also had lunch once at The Times with William Buckley. I didn’t agree with him but so what? He was witty.

He would be welcome at my board any time.

I don’t think I could stand Hitler’s company. There would be no point in telling him off. He lost the war. That’s enough. Also, he was pompous, arrogant, maniacal, and, most important, a bore.

I think Charles Lindbergh might be even more of a bore. Undoubtedly he was a hero. He did something no one had ever done before. He opened up a whole new era. Even so, he never said anything interesting or did anything interesting after that historic flight. And he seemed to have a strange affection for Nazi Germany, for which he vindicated himself.

I’m not sure that I would enjoy dinner with Jesus. I agree with Ms. Wells’ guest that he wouldn’t liven things up. He might make some moral points and tell a few parables; he might be inspirational but perhaps not witty.

God spare me from dinner with Gen. MacArthur. He was, I concede, a fine soldier and his postwar administration of Japan was superb. At dinner, though, what would he have to talk about but himself?

Mark Twain might be fun. He was certainly the funniest of writers. The only modern writer who compares with him is Peter DeVries. However, funny writers are often bores in company. That is perhaps because they are by nature cynical.

One might think it would be fun to dine with Presidents. But the remarkable thing about our modern Presidents, with the exception of Franklin Roosevelt, John Kennedy and Ronald Reagan, is that they were bores. Think of them: Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, Truman, Eisenhower, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter and Bush.

Well, Eisenhower might have had some good war stories; Johnson might tell some good-old-boy jokes; maybe Carter was funny--he looked funny.

There is a story that a woman sitting next to Coolidge at a Washington luncheon, and being aware of his notorious taciturnity, said to the President, “Mr. President, I have a bet that I can get you to say more than two words,” and Coolidge said, “You lose.”

That’s pretty good. Maybe Coolidge was funnier than we thought he was.

But H. L. Mencken said of Coolidge: “His chief feat during five years and seven months in office was to sleep more than any other President--to sleep more and say less.”

Coolidge may have given the shortest speech in history. Urged by his aides to address the crowd on the platform at a whistle-stop in Missouri, Coolidge went out and raised his hand just as the train started to roll. “Goodby,” he said.

Perhaps Dorothy Parker summed him up best when she said, on hearing of his death, “How can they tell?”

He was not, however, without talent: It is said that, with his nasal twang, he could pronounce the word cow in four syllables.

Hoover was not noted for his sense of humor, yet he could say funny things. In 1928, on the eve of the Great Depression, he said: “We shall soon with the help of God be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation.”

Gerald Ford was no great wit. He was a nice guy. Nice guys aren’t funny. But once Vikki Carr sang at the White House. After the concert Miss Carr asked the President, “What is your favorite Mexican dish?” Ford answered, “You are.”

Reagan was good at self-deprecating one-liners. He told the National Press Club, “Middle age is when you’re faced with two temptations and you choose the one that will get you home at 9 o’clock.”

A country whose Presidents make us laugh can’t be all bad.