I was sick in bed most of yesterday with some kind of stomach bug that I picked up from bad food at a reception before the White House Correspondents Dinner on Saturday (I blame the CBS spread, because, why not?). But this is perhaps a coincidence. Yesterday was Earth Day, after all, so I usually feel like throwing up when I see all the nonsense put forth each year on this secular holiday.

A few gossipy notes from the WHCD: Richard Darman, the Rasputin of the Reagan Administration, his hair still long down the back of his neck and just as greasy as 25 years ago, was pawing all over Leslie Stahl, who looks a lot older in person without her 60 Minutes makeup and soft-focus camera lenses. It was a PDA (public display of affection) worthy of a hormone-drenched teenager, and completely creepy, as well as embarrassing, to watch. One of Reagan’s close advisers once told me: "Why do people take an instant dislike to Darman? Saves time." Or, as Shakespeare would put it, “Such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woebegone.” (Henry IV, Part 2, li. 70.)

MItt Romney walked up to Bob Tyrrell (of American Spectator fame) and thanked him for hosting him at the dinner. Bob found this confusing, and figured Romney must be confusing him (Tyrrell) with Bill Buckley or something. Another sign, perhaps, of the unbearable lightness of being Mitt Romney.

The National Review reception room was packed, while CBS, right next door, was half-empty the whole time. Which may say something about something.

But the question on everyone’s mind was: Where is Jonah??