Private Life

Time was, kids would come home to show off their latest test, adorned with a star from the teacher. At the dinner table, they talked about what happened at school -- or, in response to questions, sullenly said, "Nothing," leaving their parents to worry about how badly things had gone. Now they just give you the password to the browser. Who needs maternal instinct? Today, the school's online data systems tell me everything I need to know about my children's classroom performance.

It is Christmas Eve. Two women sit on a hotel bed, gazing into each other's eyes. They kiss. The younger woman begins to remove her blouse. Then the older woman puts an end to the moment of intimacy and the younger one, confused and embarrassed, storms off.

I like to call it my night with the atheist and the rabbi. The American Jewish University invited me, as an editor of articles on religion, to moderate a debate this fall between author Sam Harris and Rabbi David Wolpe, and for about 90 minutes they analyzed the role of religion in public and private life. Harris, author of the bestsellers "The End of Faith" and "Letter to a Christian Nation," noted the violence committed in the name of religion.

With the collapse of his 20-year marriage spilling into public view this week, Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa is fighting to keep private the most intimate details of his life. Rumors persist about Villaraigosa and other relationships, but he and his staff have so far refused to address the buzz. In this era of nonstop campaigning and 24-hour news cycles, experts say the voting public may be indifferent to a politician's personal foibles and marital transgressions.

If Yda Hillis Addis were alive today, she might show up on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" -- either for her sometimes salacious writings or her troubled and much-publicized personal life. More than a hundred years ago, Addis was writing about strong, independent and free-spirited heroines and their tempestuous romantic encounters.

Gray Davis is smiling now. He's talking about becoming older and wiser, about getting the most from his days. A jury in Texas settled the biggest grudge in his life, sort of. He has time for his family, and ground to make up. He is earning money again. He's picking his shots when he speaks out. He's loosened up -- which is not to call him fun-loving by ordinary standards, mind you. He won't be seen kicking up his heels on Sunset Strip. But look closely, and there's plainly a spring in his step.

It could have been a scene out of "Ocean's Eleven." A luxury cruise ship, armed security guards, hidden cameras and a locked vault.

Onstage, stand-up comedian Margaret Cho seethes. She rails against homophobia, racism and political hypocrisy, her punch lines mixed with scathing commentary. Even the poster for her current tour begs for controversy: Cho poses as a Symbionese Liberation Army-era Patty Hearst, wielding a microphone instead of a machine gun. In Cho's hands, the former is just as lethal as the latter.

Earthrise. An enduring image from the early U.S. space program, the picture taken by one of three astronauts orbiting the moon on Christmas Eve 1968, on the first flight of the Apollo project to leave Earth's gravity. Seven months later, two U.S. astronauts walked on the moon. Those of us old enough doubtless remember the suspense, the excitement, the nationally shared realization of huge accomplishments -- above all, the enormous pride in our technology, our astronauts and what they did.