Kissinger, the ultimate eminence grise

I have met Henry Kissinger twice, each time for a meal in a very exclusive Mayfair dining club, along with about 20 other journalists. He was the honoured guest. He was and is a superstar, someone who opens his mouth and everyone around him becomes enraptured. It's like every word he utters has decades of careful thought and intellect and vision behind it. He has been around that long and been involved in so many of America's historic moments that it is difficult not to feel overawed. I WAS overawed each time. He also speaks in a low low gravelly, almost Lee Marvin voice, Lee Marvin as in Paint Your Wagon. So it's all pretty impressive. And here he is, at the age of 94 next month, still making waves and taking calls for help from Trump, and probably going into the White House via the back door, and, of course, going back and forth to Beijing to talk to his old mates. He must by now have earned the Glorious Medal of Esteemed Honour, or whatever the Chinese have for their most distinguished interlocutors. Kissinger is something else. Ok, he was heavily involved in the Great Bombing Scandal - Laos and Cambodia - in the Vietnam War, but he must have argued brilliantly to justify it. There is something comforting, in my view, about Kissinger still playing a role today, albeit behind the scenes. Trump must get a particular thrill picking up the phone to talk to him. Does he call him Henry or Dr Kissinger I wonder? If anything positive is going to happen between Washington and Beijing under Trump, the hand of Kissinger will surely play a part. I wish I could have one more lunch or breakfast with him before he departs this life. By the way, he is surprisingly short, though somewhat wide. But when you're concentrating on his pearls of wisdom, you somehow don't notice.