It is a little hard for most people to understand how a President of the United States, with Air Force One always ready and 93 servants hovering to make his bed and bring him decaf and the Marine Band playing Hail to the Chief at every whipstitch, can go around feeling sorry for himself.
But there was Bill Clinton last week, in Cranston, Rhode Island, at a "town meeting" -- his favorite environment -- with two perky television hosts and friendly questioners. And he was seized with an outbreak of Potomac paranoia.
"I'd just like to know," asked Natalie Sintron of...
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