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by Beth Teitell
Thursday, October 11, 2001
True story. In 1997, when law-enforcement officials in Boston and Chelsea wanted to snare a bunch of arrest-warrant dodgers, they sent out letters announcing a ``casting call'' for a movie called ``TKO: The Rocky Marciano Story.'' When the aspiring extras showed up for their big meeting with Robert De Niro, they were cuffed and taken to jail.
Nabbed!
Why not try a similar sting operation on one Osama bin Laden?
We don't have to offer a part in a movie, either. In some cities, police have held out the promise of tickets to a ball game, or an all-expenses-paid cruise.
Bin Laden says he hates America and our culture, but show me the person who would turn down a guest spot on ``The West Wing,'' or two tickets - on a Saturday night - to ``The Producers.'' Let's see who's strong enough to stay in hiding then.
If that tactic doesn't succeed in capturing Osama, we could punch his name into one of those Internet services that promise to ``Find High School Classmates.'' Let's see. . . Riyadh High, class of '75, and voila! Not only do we have our man, but we could gain additional intelligence: his yearbook quote, which clubs he belonged to.
Or, Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld, posing as one of those men who write for women's magazines - Cosmo, say, or Glamour - could offer bin Laden a free makeover. In Sunday's videotaped threat to Americans, bin Laden did not look good for 44.
Draw him out with the promise of a day of beauty at a fancy spa - a Golden Door, or Canyon Ranch. Then, while he's lying there, cucumber slices over his eyes, a broccoli paste covering his face, the ``aesthetician'' would stop her banter - ``You've got to start wearing protection when you're out in the sun'' - and handcuff him.
Or how about the old Publishers Clearing House maneuver: Disguise a tank as the PrizeMobile, and when bin Laden opens his cave door to smile and receive his check, whack him.
Or perhaps none of those ploys will work. After all, bin Laden is independently wealthy. When the United States wanted to flush Panamanian strongman Manuel Noriega from the Vatican embassy, we blasted rock music into his bedroom day and night for 11 days. Perhaps unable bear one more round of ``I Fought the Law and the Law Won,'' he surrendered. Let's forget the bombing missions, and start blaring ``You Don't Bring Me Flowers'' over Afghanistan (after, of course, a humanitarian drop of earplugs for civilians).
Or maybe we should send in America's finest: Tony Soprano, Batman (Adam West or Michael Keaton, but not Val Kilmer), the people who do PR for Phillip Morris. Or even better, the Durgin Park waitresses. We're in an unconventional war, after all.