THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, April 26, 1995 TAG: 9504260030
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: LAWRENCE MADDRY
LENGTH: Medium: 69 lines
SOONER OR LATER the conservative community in our commonwealth will have to decide what to do with Florence King of Fredericksburg.
For some time now, King, the queen of curmudgeons, has been dipping her pen in acid and taking aim at liberals. She's dropped more than a few in their tracks and sent thousands more limping from the field.
She's the nemesis of nice, the frown in Smile Buttonland, the perpetual thumb in the goo-goo eye of political correctness. Her conservative credentials are impeccable.
Yet, the state's Republican Party has not proposed a likeness of her in marble or bronze. And, Gov. George Allen, who fancies himself a gun-totin', boots-wearing hombre, has yet to pay her honor, although she can shoot his lights out and drink him under the table.
And why not?
It may be she is so far ahead of the conservative ruck that she appears small to those following at a great distance. Think of the view plug horses had following Secretariat by many furlongs.
Or, perhaps, they simply haven't gotten around to it and now will have to wait at the end of the line to compliment a native daughter who is the wittiest writer in America.
King is the darling of such conservative icons as columnist George Will, and Allistair Cooke the author and Masterpiece Theater host, who rush to print in praise of her genius. She is a columnist for The National Review, whose editorials are often pressed like flowers into the Book of Common Prayer.
Shame, shame, as Gomer Pyle used to say. Some recognition must be paid.
As proof of the premise, I offer samples plucked from the nightshade corner of her lush garden of prose: ``The Florence King Reader'' published by St. Martin's Press.
On hugging. ``The axe has fallen on emotional restraint. It has just about disappeared. Soon everyone will have hugged everyone else, and then it will be only a matter of time before one of Oprah's guests displays a jar containing a do-it-yourself extra-uterine conception, and Oprah hugs the jar.''
On Bill Clinton. ``It's going to be an interesting four years. Our hoarse saxophone player's insubstantial personality and almost palpable insecurity recall what the wag said about Frederic Chopin: ``The only constant thing about him was his cough.''
On male liberals. ``Male liberals who ought to have ``Born to Fax'' tattoed on what passes for their biceps, who ooze so much unfettered guilt that they seem permanently trapped in that tragicomic dilemma of childhood: lying in bed idly peeling off the mattress tag, only to find it says DO NOT REMOVE UNDER PENALTY OF LAW.''
On her ancestors. ``Our ancestors did arrive very early in Virginia - 1672 - but they were not the kind of people Granny said they were, and they rose very little in the social scale of subsequent generations. I would not be at all surprised if I turned out to be a direct descendant of the Spotsylvania hatchetman who relieved Kunta Kinte of his foot.''
On liberals. ``Give me a `simplistic' conservative every time. Liberal lovers sit on the edge of the bed with their heads in their hands, moaning, `I shouldn't come here on the days that I see my analyst.' The only thing they deliver is sweet, savage supportiveness.''
On country. ``America is the only country in the world where you can suffer culture shock without leaving home.''
On children. ``If we want to regain the respect of the world, we should begin by announcing that children have no business expressing opinions on anything except: `Do you have enough room in the toes?' ''
On the good ole boy. ``He is a consummate womanizer and would, as the saying goes, hump a rock pile if he thought there was a snake under it.'' by CNB