Chelsea Clinton plans to tie the knot with fiance Marc Mezvinsky in the upstate New York village of Rhinebeck on July 31, 2010. Picture: AP/Mary Ann Chastain
SO, JUST what does it take to score an invitation to the hottest - not to mention most secretive - political wedding of the American summer?
More than a cross-country ride on a private jet, apparently.
''I'm good enough to borrow a plane from but not good enough to be invited to the wedding?'' complained one Clinton friend, who remembered the times he handed over his jet and his pilot to take Bill Clinton around the country but who had not landed a coveted invitation to Chelsea Clinton's nuptials.
Tomorrow, Miss Clinton, 30, and Marc Mezvinsky, 32, are expected to marry in Rhinebeck, New York. But not everyone these days is feeling the love.
While most friends and acquaintances of the former president and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton say they understand that the wedding is a private affair of only 400 or so guests, all with a direct connection to the bride or bridegroom, some are privately grumbling about just who made the cut. And the affair has left donors, supporters, aides and even true A-listers wondering just how inside the inner circle they are.
''Would people who said they were close to the Clintons and not invited feel bad? Sure,'' said Hank Sheinkopf, a political consultant who worked on Mr Clinton's re-election in 1996 (and who was not invited). But with the hindsight of 30 years in politics, he added: ''It is dangerous to presume closeness to people in power, and it is very rare when there are real, unbreakable friendships.''
Mr Sheinkopf stressed that the Clintons have always done a good job of guarding their daughter's privacy. ''This is not another meeting of power for those who want to get close to the former president to figure out what they can get out of him, or the secretary of state,'' he said. ''Either you are a friend or you're not, and friends are defined at different levels. Anyone who knows the Clintons knows that lobbying will do no good.''
But that has not stopped some people from trying, especially political supporters and fund-raisers with a sense of entitlement borne from years of writing cheques. ''I'm sure there are some people who are lobbying discreetly,'' said someone who has known the Clintons for decades. ''If they're on the list, they will ballyhoo it quietly, and if they're not on the list, their noses will be out of joint.''
After all, Washington is a town that revolves around power and access to power, and Miss Clinton's wedding has inadvertently provided the chattering class with an imprecise - and, many say, inaccurate - measure of where they stand in Clintonworld.
''You know, when I heard about it, I was hoping to be invited,'' said businessman John Catsimatidis, who has raised several million dollars for the Clintons. ''But when it's only two weeks from the wedding and you don't get an invitation, you know you're not invited.''
He said he did not feel too bad because ''it's a small affair, and it's Chelsea's friends.'' And that has become the mantra for the uninvited: It's no biggie.
''It's not a political rally; it's not a state affair,'' said one longtime Clinton supporter who was not invited. ''There are people who are elbowing and hinting and looking but you don't go to a wedding to collect autographs.''
And then, finally, there are those who cheerfully accept their lot, only wishing the bride well. ''We're outer circle, not inner circle,'' said Victor Kovner, a prominent New York lawyer who supported Hillary Clinton's presidential bid. ''We're very happy for them, we're very happy for their parents, and mazel tov, as we say in New York.''
NEW YORK TIMES
