Today, for work, I was contacted by the producers of Wolf Blitzer's CNN Hijinx and Delights Hour, about a band I represent that they want to interview. I plan on using whatever leverage I have to get a personally-inscribed-to-me color 8x10 glossy of Wolf as part of the professional transaction.
Not only does he have the greatest/accidental german punk band sounding name in broadcast TV, but he has an almost elfin magic. With that baby-chubs face, the tidiest beard you have ever seen, that way his spunky incadensense keeps him from beign dwarfed in the twighlight shadows of the White House, when he is doing news briefs from the presidents driveway. So firm, so unshakeable in his pressed trenchcoat. His teeth like a lighthouse beacon, gleaming behind that easy smile.
I bet Wolf Blitzer never drinks alone.
I imagine afterwork, he heads to the bar with staffers, mingling with interns and higher-ups the same. After a Tom Collins (dry), they goad him into telling that story about the time he and Nermeen Mufti spent the night in a Cheers™ bar in the Vail airport during the blizzard of 1997.