The Post is, of course, the newspaper that published one of the two most famous headlines in history: "Headless body in topless bar." So I tried to seize the chance when a story came along about state troopers in trouble for standing by while half-nude concertgoers made a few bucks by washing cars at one of the Woodstock festivals. We had a picture and everything.
A director was trying to snare star-of-the-moment Leonardo DiCaprio to play Brendan Behan because he said the two had an uncanny resemblance.
On a story about the Metropolitan Transit Authority misstating its projected budget deficit to justify raising subway fares, the boss wanted something that would really call them out on it (and this in just four or five monosyllabic words). He didn't catch the subway-related reference, so it got changed.
On a story about how Ireland is gradually losing land mass every year, the boss thought this was somehow too contrived.
Paul McCartney admitted that he was dating model (now wife) Heather Mills, and hinted that the two might marry.
A story breathlessly detailed the half-million-dollar bejeweled necklace that Whoopi Goldberg would be wearing to host the Oscars. We debated whether the following would be in poor taste and decided not to go with it, though the next day we figured it would have been fine.
When Saddam Hussein was captured, one of our top stories was about the DNA testing that confirmed his identity, but I don't think the story made it into the final edition. I wrote what Johnnie Cochran would have written: