"Thank God, " the lady said, "in America, we separate morality and politics."

Think about it - if it doesn't make you too dizzy: "Thank God, in America we separate politics and morality."

After a confused moment, I didn't want to think about it any more. It was like staring too long at a picture by M.C. Escher, or trying to decode Yogi Berra's prose. It makes sense and it doesn't.

Do you think the lady's prayer of thanksgiving was just part of the ordinary, unthinking detritus of American conversation? Or was it pure Zen? And is there a difference?

Hey, what a country!

Or as that great poet and uneven pitcher, Joaquin Andujar, once said in a moment of pure inspiration: "There is one word in America that says it all, and that one word is, 'You never know.' "

I won't ever know what the lady meant, but I can't get her comment out of my head. It goes 'round and 'round up there like the lyrics to a bad song - as unkillable as the words to that old rhythm-and-blues standard, "Louie, Louie."

Certain high-minded critics, you may remember, claimed the Kingsmen's version of "Louie, Louie" was obscene when played at slow speed, and even made a federal case out of it. After a thorough investigation, the G-men reached their solemn conclusion:

"We found the record to be unintelligible at any speed we played it."

Much like, "Thank God, in America we separate morality and politics."

The lady's observation brings to mind what Bill McCuen, Arkansas' erstwhile former secretary of state, said in defense of a nativity scene at the state Capitol one year: "We're not celebrating the birth of Christ, we're just celebrating Christmas."

Uh, OK.

Such language leaves behind it a blank uneasiness. But it can be revealing in its own way. More revealing than the speaker intended. Much like George Stephanopoulos' classic summation of Bill Clinton's fidelity to his campaign promises: "The president has kept the promises he meant to keep." Continued...