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Bill Mahers tiny point
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WASHINGTON -- When my neighbor gleefully reported that Bill Maher had dedicated a searing monologue to me for a column about the Donald Sterling/Cliven Bundy rants, my first thought was, Nah. If I tussled with everybody who tossed a brick through the window, I’d never get the draperies hung. My second thought was about something my father said to a drunk who was looking for a fight: “I’m too old to fight,” my dad said, peering over his half-moon glasses.