I think about Jackie Kennedy several times a day.
I have no choice. Tour groups come by my house in Georgetown to see John Kennedy's bachelor pad, where he was living when he met Jacqueline Bouvier at a dinner party.
I eavesdropped at the window once and heard a tour guide spin the romantic yarn about how the handsome senator met the beautiful debutante, and they decided to live happily ever after. Somewhere else. "Jackie told Jack he needed to get out of this dump," the guide said. "By the time he was elected president, they were living in a beautiful house down the block, which we'll go see now."
