COMMENTARY
Many years ago, then-President George H.W. Bush, whom I had known since the 1950s, taught me a valuable lesson. Meeting with him, I lost my bearings briefly and slipped into habit, calling him by his family nickname, “Poppy.” Embarrassed, I immediately apologized and corrected myself, switching back to “Mr. President.” He was preternaturally gracious and his comment has remained with me.
“Look, Fay, don’t feel bad,” the president said, as I recall. “I understand. The reason I accept the use of this title is my great respect for the office I hold. It is not about me.