The television crews have affectionately named the site "Monica Beach." A block or so of Connecticut Ave. in front of the Mayflower Hotel. The Washington home to king's and diplomats is now the home to the world's most famous philandering filly. And it is our great pleasure to sit on the sidewalk, cameras at the ready, patiently awaiting the arrivals and departures of Monica Lewinsky.

And today I reflected on the date. Monica was due to walk across Connecticut Ave. to meet with her attorneys, Plato Cacheris and Jake Stein. I ponder what may happen, in this strange world, if Monica were to see her shadow... Would these agonizing stakeouts continue for another four weeks if her shadow were cast out before her. Surely if it was, somebody would notice. Never in America has one young women been so relentlessly pursued. Ever move Monica makes in public is captured by the jostling crowd of photographers and reporters. Men and women cursing the fact of their presence, and at the same time pondering how to spend the overtime money flowing freely from their extended efforts.

And through the fog of this rather warm day in Washington, one may hope, in the sick way the media hopes, that on one frame of film, in one second of videotape, the sun glared through the clouds onto Monica's shoulders, and the dark sister of herself is plainly seen walking in front of Monica.

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