I don't know anything about India except they allow cows to wander around in the streets over there because they think cows are sacred. I don't have anything against cows, but I'm glad we don't think they are sacred over here because if we did, there wouldn't be any such thing as a bacon cheeseburger. 

When I responded to the social secretary of the White House to accept the invitation, I asked how long the dinner would last. 

"I'm not sure," she said, "Why?" 

"Because if I don't have my tux back to the rental place by 11, I'll have to pay extra," I explained. 

She laughed, nervously. 

I had a great time at the White House. When you walk into the Gold Room for dinner, you have to pass through a foyer where the press and the photographers are located. 

Jimmy did better 

I walked in behind Loretta Young, the actress, who looked darn good for a woman 300 years old, and Dr. Henry Kissinger, and his wife, who resembles a corn stalk and smoked one cigarette after the other, despite the fact ashtrays are at a premium in the White House. Oh, well, there's always the floor. 

The press asked Loretta Young and Dr. Kissinger a lot of questions and all the photographers snapped pictures of their entry into the dinner. 

When I was announced, nobody took my picture but a lady from the Washington Post did ask if this was my first trip to the White House. 

"Surely you jest," was my reply."The last time I was here, we all sat in the backyard and drank beer and listened to Willie Nelson." 

Say what you want to about Jimmy Carter, but the man knew how to throw a party at the White House. 

Know who provided the after dinner entertainment at Reagans party for Prime Minister Gandhi? Some bald-headed guy who played the cello, that's who. He had a foreign name President Reagan had trouble pronouncing when he introduced the man to the dinner guests. 

Cello players, I decided, are a lot like alligators. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all. 

No soda crackers? 

The food. We had Crab and Cucumber Mousse and Supreme of Cornish Hen, Wild Rice with Toasted Walnuts, and Baby Zucchini. We had Bibb Lettuce with Garden Chives and Grape Cheese, and we had Chocolate Boxes with Fruit Sorbets and Peach Champagne Sauce. 

Our wines were Bacigalupi Chardonnay (1983), Saintsbury Garnet (1983) and Schramsberg Cremant DemiSec, which I found assertive, but not offensive. My only complaints with the meal were there were no soda crackers to eat with the salad, and I am foursquare against the slaughter of baby zucchinis. 

I got to shake hands with the president. He is a nice man, but he is shorter than I thought he was. I chatted with Mrs. Reagan, who has a very nice smile in person. I met Maureen Reagan, who needs to lose a few pounds, and I danced with a dress designer from New York who spoke with a British accent despite the fact she was from Missouri. 

When the party was over I went back to my hotel room and ordered a bacon cheesburger from room service and ate it while sitting in my underdrawers. 

Holy cow, I thought to myself, what a perfect way to end a storybook evening.