George Bush upended Ronald Reagan in Iowa's Republican precinct caucuses not only because he ran harder—he spent 31 days in the state to the Californian's 41 hours—but also, perhaps, because he ran frequently. Bush, 55, jogs two miles daily, presenting a vital image that contrasts with the 68-year-old Reagan's more sedentary style. All of the Texan's energies, of course, are geared toward replacing his two current running mates—sons Marvin, 22 (left), and George Jr., 33—with one of vice-presidential timber. And then to replace Jimmy Carter as First Jogger.
"I'm shocked—I'm shocked," was all Studio 54 co-owner Steve Rubell could mutter. Despite the eloquence of his lawyer, Roy Cohn (center), Rubell and partner Ian Schrager (far left) were sentenced to 3½ years in prison and fined $20,000 each for disco-ducking more than $466,000 in taxes. "It was stupidity," said Rubell, who had hidden skimmed bar receipts in garbage bags on the premises. "I don't blame anyone but myself." Indeed, when he announced the ruling from the floor of New York's landmark disco that night, the speakers played I Did It My Way.
Megan Marshack, the aide who was with Nelson Rockefeller the night he died, lamented not long ago that she had "no social life—and it's really no fun going places by yourself." But Marshack, 26, who abruptly quit a two-month-old job with a Broadway producer to work as a researcher-writer for a publishing house, may have solved her social problems. She and cartoonist Charles Addams, the 68-year-old master of the macabre, were spotted returning home from a night out. It's no secret that they live together, sort of—they reside in the same co-op building in Manhattan.
Cheryl's lame excuse
It was mortifying for a model who dispenses health tips on ABC's Good Morning America. For 10 days Cheryl Tiegs was so plastered she could barely walk. The clinical cause: an avulsion of the peroneus brevis, or a pulled tendon, which she suffered in a fall at a friend's house on Long Island. The mishap briefly hobbled her career, but Cheryl wound up in an all-star cast. The signers included Bjorn Borg, Andy Warhol, some puckish members of the New York Rangers and Vitas Gerulaitis (who included his phone number).
They billed the Beverly Hilton affair in honor of Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal a benefit, but host Frank Sinatra (embracing Wiesenthal, top right) had to take some unseemly cuts, including being roasted as "the sex symbol for women who no longer care." George Jessel (bottom right) continued the tasteless joking, causing the guest of honor to cringe. But the proceedings were decorous by the standards of Hollywood testimonials. And rightly: Wiesenthal, 71, has dedicated his life to ferreting out 1,100 Third Reich war criminals, among them Adolf Eichmann and the Gestapo officer who arrested Anne Frank. Some 1,400 guests, like Ed Asner, John Forsythe, Milton Berle and Red Buttons, paid $100 a plate to laud Wiesenthal, who will use the money to help fund a touring educational program on the Holocaust. He explains, "Hitler and Stalin are alive today in new and different guise. They are waiting for us to forget, because this is what makes their resurrection possible." The benediction came from Sinatra. "I have met an army of good people but none whose call to arms rivals Mr. Wiesenthal's," he said. "I would gladly give up every song to rest my head on the pillow of his accomplishments."