One almost has to be an entomologist to follow politics these days, what with all those insects flying around in Washington. First there were the Boll Weevils—the name given to conservative Southern Democrats in the House of Representatives. Then came the Gypsy Moths—Republican moderates from the Northeast and Midwest—and the Yellow Jackets—conservative Republicans. Now Dick Conlon, head of the Democratic Study Group, has expanded the nomenclature to include the Horseflies (rural Congressmen), Ladybugs (women Reps), Tsetse Flies (those legislators who drone on and on) and Bumblebees (committee chairmen who "are ferocious but don't sting that often"). The most common bugs on the Hill, though, are mosquitoes. "Mosquitoes are pests," explains the partisan Conlon. "They're all Republicans."
Sally Struthers, who will have her own series, Gloria, in the fall, isn't sure All in the Family was a consciousness raiser in every household where it was seen. "I guess there were a lot of viewers who watched every week and yelled, 'Right on, Archie!' when he would utter those ridiculous, bigoted statements," she concedes. "But at least it kept the bigots off the street for a half hour."
Faced with rising costs and cuts in student aid, Lake Erie College, a liberal arts school for women in Painesville, Ohio, is offering a special enrollment discount for twins: two for the price of one. An anonymous donor volunteered to pick up the tab for one twin if the second paid her own bills—around $7,595 a year. So far three sets of twins have been admitted for the fall semester—and the offer is still open.
In its July issue, which marks the magazine's 10th anniversary, Ms. is publishing a list of 40 men who have helped advance feminist causes. Among those cited are Alan Alda, Phil Donahue and Ed Asner, all obvious choices. But there were a few surprises too. John Lennon was picked, in part "for his public example of a partnership marriage." Benjamin Spock was named for demonstrating "the courage and grace to publicly change his mind and revise his classic Baby and Child Care," Garry Trudeau for "his personal support of women who want to follow Joanie Caucus into politics," and John Irving, amazingly, "for understanding that feminist excesses are funny."
Water on the Brain
Arthur Miller, who is unusually choosy about his public appearances, surfaced recently with the likes of Meryl Streep and Jill Clayburgh at an anti-nuke benefit in Manhattan. Taking the mike, the 66-year-old playwright told a story intended to express his distaste for things nuclear. Several years ago, Miller said, he was flying from New York to L.A. seated next to a civil engineer. As they flew over the vast Southwestern desert, Miller remarked that such landscape was one thing man could never change. Not so, responded the engineer, who proceeded to tell Miller how 40 million people could live in the desert. All it would take, he said, was water, and that could be obtained by using nuclear blasts to reach vast underground reserves. "Nuclear blasts? Wouldn't that contaminate the water?" asked Miller. "I don't know," the engineer replied blandly. "That's not my field."
Some Kind of Hero
Actor James Coco, who is writing a book about the 100-plus pounds he shed, admits he did it without giving up chocolate, a fitting obsession considering his name. In a 1983 calendar for chocoholics, Coco discloses that "as a baby I asked for chocolate bars instead of bottles." He also describes his favorite fantasy sandwich: "First take a big loaf of Italian bread and slice it in half the long way. Then layer in cheese, salami, ham, bologna—and cover the top with Hershey bars." Yum.