Greg Stevens, R.I.P.

Saw "Evita" tonight at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. It's hard to believe the show was writing nearly 30 years ago -- 1976 to 1978. The show was fine -- not great, not bad.

I saw the movie, but had never seen the live show before. I like most anything political, so a story about a woman climbing to the top of the political heap was interesting to me.

But I couldn't stop thinking about Hilary Clinton. Earlier today I watched 3 "Meet the Press" episodes I Tivoed. One featured an interview of Senator Clinton and Senator McCain from Baghdad. The more I think about it the more I'm convinced they are going to be the Democratic and Republican nominees for President in 2008. Evil vs. Crazy. What a choice for America.

I'm always shocked to read an article about someone my age dying. And the older I get the more often it happens. So I was freaked out to read about Greg Stevens' death in today's Los Angeles Times. (The Washington Times ran a better article.)http://www.washingtontimes.com/national/20050303-110422-6672r.htm

Greg was in the Trojan College Republicans at the same time I was and we both moved to Washington, D.C. around the same time. But he always seemed to move in a faster circle than I did.

I remember around 1983 when Scott Wilk and I had dinner at the oh-so-trendy Cadillac Cafe on La Cienega Boulevard. Greg came in to eat with a group that clearly was having a good time. I think both Scott and I secretly wanted to be invited to their party.

I didn't talk to Greg for several years, though I would see his name in the paper every now and then. But we did talk in the Fall of 2003. I interviewed a guy who was applying for a job on the No on 56 campaign and Greg was listed as a reference. Greg and I had a couple of nice conversations and caught up on each other's lives.

We promised to "do lunch" the next time he was in California -- but that wasn't meant to be. And it sounds like he was still moving in pretty fast circles. Dying in Carrie Fisher's guest house certainly has a dramatic flair.

The closest I can get to that is seeing Debbie Reynolds perform a couple of years ago at the Orleans Casino in Las Vegas. At least I was in the front row.