Tyrone Yates may have the right message, but he needs some work on his delivery. In a dramatically worded letter to Gov. Bob Taft, the state representative warned of summer disturbances by disillusioned Cincinnati youth unless the state supplied $4 million for the city's summer youth employment programs. Without the money, Yates said, poor minority and minority teenagers could take to the streets, and Cincinnati could experience something akin to the April 2001 riots.

To some state officials, the letter sounded threatening and overblown. To others it was merely naive, given an already overstretched state budget and shaky economy. Cincinnatians might be more willing to attribute Yates' drama to a charged-up mix of his genuine concern for young people and his tendency toward passionate oration.

Unfortunately, "teeming" young people and "major disruptions" not only didn't land Yates' case, they may have lost him ground. A calm approach and an earlier appeal may have worked much better.

Coucher sans moi?

Wayward hubbies everywhere felt Bill Clinton's pain this week when word leaked out that the ex-prez' autobiography, to be released Tuesday, has this tidbit about what he calls "the darkest part of my inner life": Clinton writes that for at least two months after he confessed to his wife, Hillary, that he indeed had an affair with "that woman," Monica Lewinsky, he had to sleep on a White House couch.

Gee, you think?

Here's the kicker: Guess who he credits with rescuing his marriage? The Republicans who impeached him. After that battle ended, Clinton was allowed back in the bedroom.