I don't know about you, but I was delighted to hear that as the Clinton scandal began to unfold, Ethel Merman was in the background belting out "There’s No Business Like Show Business."

Indeed, it’s true. As FBI agents began to question Monica Lewinsky in a Pentagon City hotel room a couple weeks ago, they faced an unexpected delay. Monica, we’re told, refused to talk until her mother arrived on a train from New York.

That’s a five-hour trip, so Monica and the boys were forced to bide their time as best they could.

According to The Washington Post, they sat in the hotel room and watched part of "There’s No Business Like Show Business" on TV, then went browsing at the Pentagon City mall.

It’s details like that — as well as the more salacious variety — that have kept Americans on the edge of their seats in recent days.

We haven’t had this much fun since O.J. got in the back seat and went for a ride.

Along about the third day after the scandal broke, though, I realized someone very important was missing from the media’s around-the-clock coverage of the president and his ill-fitting pants.

I decided I needed to do what I could to help Dan Rather, Sam Donaldson, Geraldo Rivera and crew cover this important story.

So I drove across town to a toy store, charged a Ouija board to the company account and brought it back to the office.

Wasting no time and without regard for my own personal safety, I stopped a colleague in the hallway — for the sake of this account, I’ll call him "Woodward" — and recruited his help.