30 November—Henry Kissinger died yesterday at 100, just down the road in Kent. Richard Nixon called Henry Kissinger “My Jew boy” behind his back and to his face. (It’s good to be the king.) Yet Kissinger remained faithful to Nixon to the end, even though he acknowledged that Tricky Dick was an alcoholic, antisemitic prick.

I met Henry Kissinger only once. It was at a Connecticut Republican convention in the Hartford Civic Center in 1980 or ‘82. Kissinger was the keynote speaker. Don’t ask, don’t even think about what I, who eschew such things, was doing at a convention of any sort.

Anyway, right after the keynote address, lots of the men who hadn’t adjourned to one of the bars adjourned to the men’s room. There was a line of urinals on the wall. I can’t recall exactly how many, but let’s say there were ten. They were all being used, except for two at the right end. All except the very end one were at what I’ll call regular height; the end urinal was several inches lower. (I had never before seen one of those.)

So I migrated to the last of the regular-height urinals. As I was fiddling with the faucet, as it were, who should position himself in front of the lower urinal to my right? You may not know that Henry Kissinger wasn’t particularly tall, perhaps five-seven or five-eight. I hadn’t known till I met him.

Being oblivious to men’s-room protocol, I turned (only my head) toward him and acknowledged his presence. Although I hadn’t even heard his address, “That was a very impressive speech, Dr. Kissinger.” He thanked me as he went about his business. But I couldn’t resist, so, looking down at him I added, “By the way, Dr. Kissinger, the Civic center must have known you were coming.”

Henry knew precisely what I meant. He looked up at me and laughed so heartily that he peed on the floor. Luckily, he missed my shoes.

עליו השלום (Olev ha shalom, may he rest in peace) . . .