COLUMN: A six-year-old role model

From Amanda Bergson-Shilcock's, "A Few Good Words," Fall '99 From Amanda Bergson-Shilcock's, "A Few Good Words," Fall '99We would have fewer political problems if world leaders acted more like a six-year-old named Eloise. Eloise -- for those of you who haven't met her -- is a little girl who lives in the Plaza Hotel in New York. She has no visible parents -- well, her mother flies in occasionally -- and makes do with her English nanny, her dog Weenie and her turtle Skipperdee. She spends her days tormenting the hotel staff and her nights interrupting her nanny's attempts at sleep. This is the thing about Eloise: She is an original. And she sure does know how to get the tension out. She skitters down a hotel hallway, dragging a hockey stick against the walls; she disrupts an entire elevator full of well-dressed people to look for the key to her roller skates. Eloise is a patron -- or more correctly, a co-conspirator -- of the hotel staff. She helps Bill the student/waiter with parties -- OK, so he trips over her and spills an entire tray of champagne glasses. She is buddies with Joe the lighting guy, who lets her camp out above the ballroom when there is a particularly exciting party to watch. And her friendship with Lily the night maid nets her extra pillowcases and soap. She spends her time ordering room service -- and charging it to her mother's account -- thinking of ways to get presents and putting sunglasses on Weenie and sneakers on Skipperdee. When you think about it, this is healthier than watching polling numbers go up and down. Like most of us, Eloise has a special interest. Hers, however, is cheap and harmless. She likes headgear: Kleenex boxes, egg cups, whatever is handy. Compared to invading small countries, it's a much less costly hobby. Eloise knows how to handle the scary things in life. At night, the big bug with enormously large feathers that lives in her closet sometimes attacks her, but she and Weenie and Skipperdee bravely escape and fetch the nanny. She treats their scrapes with witch hazel and pampers them with lollipops. Is this not a better solution than coping with fear by making threats and posturing? Eloise has great self-confidence and honesty about her abilities: She can write, spell, stand on her head for the longest amount of time, get dizzy and fall down, make a terrible face and stand on her toes. At no point does she promise to create world peace, balance the budget or stay faithful to anything. Eloise keeps things in perspective. The busboy may have been to Madrid but she's been to the boiler room. None of this petty one-upmanship for her. You've got to admit she knows how to schedule her day: Call room service, call the valet, chat with Henry the ma"tre d', spend meaningful time on the elevators. Come to think of it, she puts in a lot of hours with her constituency. Eloise knows that it's the small pleasures in life that matter. Who needs caviar or even candy when you can go to the powder room and, as she puts it, "just step on it?" And really, haven't you ever wanted to follow Eloise's example and sklonk your hairdresser in the kneecap? Whoever gave Clinton that infamous haircut-while-waiting-at-an-airport certainly deserved one. Eloise knows how to look on the bright side. She confides that she hides and watches the hotel officers, but she has never been arrested. Apparently they have priorities that don't include subpoena or arrest of relatively innocent citizens. So in honor of Eloise, let's take a minute this week to face life in her style. Weigh your turtle. Feed rubber candy to someone you hate. Attend a stranger's wedding. Or stop by your neighborhood bookstore and pick up a copy for Bill, Boris or Saddam. Perhaps they'll get some pointers.