Broccoli breaks the boredom

This is not about George "Broccoli" Bush. Not really. It'sabout how almost all of you know exactly what that first sentencemeans.

We've already heard much more than we cared to concerning thegreen vegetable thing. Over the past few weeks, the "controversy"about the president's distaste for broccoli effectively replaced "Asthe Donald Turns" as the humorous news vignette of choice across thecountry.

It mattered not that there wasn't anything terribly funny aboutthe story.

So Bush banned broccoli from Air Force One. Big deal. RichardNixon didn't like red beets, but you didn't see the media doingverbal cartwheels over that one.

Even worse were the countless reaction pieces, most of themciting Bush as a bad example for America's youth. As if America'syouth looked to the president as a role model when selecting itsdiet.

It would have been a legitimate cause for parental concern ifHulk Hogan or Paula Abdul or one of the New Kids on the Block hadcome out against broccoli, but Bush's stance on vegetable ingestionhas about as much relevance to the average youngster as the releasedate of Pat Boone's next album.

Nevertheless, the anecdote avalanche continued: The broccoliindustry reacted with indignation. Ten tons of the stuff were sentto Washington, D.C. The president refused to change his position("wouldn't be prudent"). The first lady came out in favor ofbroccoli. Newspapers printed Julia Child's broccoli recipes.

Even in this era of hype and overkill (sounds like the name of acouple of entertainment attorneys), the Bush/broccoli brouhahaattracted an inordinate amount of attention.

Why? Well, I blame Ronald Reagan.

Compared to Reagan, Bush has been just plain boring, especiallywhen it comes to generating amusing little side stories. His wifedoesn't care about the alignment of the planets and the stars, he'son speaking terms with his family, he stays awake at Cabinetmeetings, and he never slapped around Angie Dickinson in a badB-movie. He just does the president thing.

For an entire year, the media have been waiting for somethinggoofy (besides Dan Quayle) to turn up in the White House. But goodgray George has just plodded along, doing his job.

Compare that with Reagan's first year, which was chock full ofzany antics: When a band struck up "Hail to the Chief," Reagan put his hand onhis heart and stood at attention. He later explained, "I thought itwas the national anthem." Nancy admitted to reporters she used to carry "a tiny little gun"for protection. For a press conference, names of questioners were chosen from ajelly bean jar. The president called L.A. Times theater critic Dan Sullivan andasked him to put in a plug for his old pal Buddy "BeverlyHillbillies" Ebsen, who was appearing in a play called "Turn to theRight." As his dog scampered across the White House lawn, Reagan called,"Lassie! Lassie! Um, I mean, Millie!" Fending off questions about Nancy's image, Ron cited a poll thatfound her to be "the most popular woman in the world." No such pollexisted.

So it went for eight years. There was never a shortage ofReagan sidebars. But when the Last Cowboy rode out of office and thePrudent Yuppie took over, there was a sudden stoppage of nonsensenews - a chuckle drought, if you will.

And that's why the broccoli thing was greeted with suchoverkill. It wasn't really funny, but it was better than nothing.