On a conference call this morning, a co-worker (and major Bush fan) said how much he loved Zell Miller, describing him as "an old time Democrat".  I believe he'd more aptly be described as a "Republican-If-Not-In-Name".  That, or "Crazy".

Ask not at whom the Zell boils, he boils at thee (Keith Olbermann)

Can’t we all just get along?

In the first fifteen minutes of shared downtime we’ve had since a photo shoot we did last spring, Chris Matthews and I ran into one another smack dab in the middle of Broadway yesterday and, as the old time throng swept past us into Herald Square, we had our usual conversation: politics, movies, a little sports, television executives— all of it punctuated with his laugh (“Ha!”) and mine (“Huh!”).

The process is simple and productive: Give Chris a straight answer, let him talk, pick up your point when he’s stopped talking, share the oxygen with him, and everything’ll be just fine.

Seven hours later, Senator Zell Miller goes all Aaron Burr on him and fantasizes about challenging him to a duel.

Here’s a man who in a historical-blink-of-an-eye ago was calling John Kerry a hero and swearing the Republicans had ‘sold the country out,’ fresh off a fear-mongering speech that made his '92 keynote for Bill Clinton sound like a schoolmarm talking to a bankruptcy referee, and Miller gets mad at Matthews?

The gist of the message from the Democrat and/or Republican was: vote for John Kerry and America will be attacked. And when it’s attacked, it’ll be defended with “spitballs.”

So Chris asked him if he really meant that.

“It’s a metaphor,” Miller replied. “Do you know what a metaphor is?”

Umm, Senator? That’s why he asked. Did you really mean that metaphor? Wasn’t that metaphor over-the-top? Isn’t it predicated on a half-idea: that John Kerry tried to dismantle weapons programs (the ones Defense Secretary Dick Cheney had asked the Senate to dismantle)?

Of course, Senator Miller can’t answer those questions. He's a one-man political revolving door trying to lead the criticism of a flip-flopper. So all of a sudden he’s slapping a white glove, throwing down the gauntlet, and checking the newspaper for the exact hour of sunrise. Senator— you have the first choice of spitballs.

Matthews can talk to anybody, and listen to anybody. You just have to get with the rhythm a little bit. Bend slightly. Flex. You know, the kind of bending and flexing you have to do when you want to come out and condemn both major political parties in the same decade.

And incidentally, Senator, the show is called Hardball, not Spitball.

Although if my bosses are watching, I think we have the title for a new program.