If there's one thing everybody agrees on, it's the greatness of J.S. Bach. From the 18th century rationalist to the budding Yngwie J. Malmsteen speed metalists of the eighties, there is a direct line of appreciation for Bach's clockwork compositions. Bach is also famed for having sired 20 children, several of whom went on to become celebrated composers in their own right - the father, literally, of a musical dynasty.

But I respect Bach for more than just his prodigious musical and paternal skills. I respect him because he was one of the most accomplished ass-kissers of all time.

This last achievement is even more impressive in light of what seemed to be Bach's independent nature. His career is marked by difficult relations with employers - at one point he spent a week in jail for asking that he be allowed to quit his job as court organist at Weimar.

Here at Calzone, we have one employee who really knows how to insert tongue in bunghole. Jacquie Driscolle, our director of marketing, always puts the customer's needs first. Whether it's finding innovative business solutions to complex problems or dropping everything to make sure the client gets the right treatment, Jacquie puts her years of business experience to work for You.

But frankly, we're a little suspicious of Jacquie's dedication to the overbearing client. It's that whole problem with one-to-many marketing: If everybody is getting mollycoddled the same way, what is your particular share of the molly or the coddle really worth? What is the point of a good suckup in a world already attuned to the Pavlovian slobbering of Joel Siegel and Kirkus Review? I don't like being a wag, and I enjoy service with a smile just like anybody else, but do I really believe some Greek is "pleased to serve" me just because he has it printed on a paper coffee cup?

I put this question to our resident expert on courtly manners, Samuel Johnson. What is the point of being flattered if the flatterer doesn't really think his flattery is true?

Precisely my point. But with flacks and clerks flattering all and sundry equally, the rules of good obsequiousness become more complex. Americans don't trust flattery at all anymore, because we've seen it scattered so far and wide.

Therefore, the best kissasses of the modern age use a clever dipsydoodle: kissing butt without really letting you know it. It's a matter of tone and craft. The more brusque you seem, the more the goofy object of your craven pandering will be affected.

And that's why my choice for Asskisser of the Hour is a man we've all been seeing on TV quite a bit lately - White House spokesman Mike McCurry. Who can beat McCurry's self-deprecating asides, that look of we're-all-in-this-together haggardness that he does to such perfection? Just consider this small tidbit of press room banter McCurry offered up last week:

Q Is there some sort of school break or did she plan -- has this been planned as a weekend?

MR. MCCURRY: I don't know. Don't know the answer. You can ask the First Lady's Office, they might be able to tell you.
Okay. As you know, we have the Detroit Red Wings in this afternoon. We've been doing right wings, right wheels, Red Wings, so forth.

Q Did you really say that was a right wheel conspiracy on the plane the other day? (Laughter.)

MR. MCCURRY: No, I said the plane thing was proof positive that there was a conspiracy under our right wing.

Q Did they ever get that plane out of the mud?

MR. MCCURRY: Did they ever get that plane out of the mud? (Laughter.) It's still there? Turned it into a museum.

Q Still there?

MR. MCCURRY: Like the one in Bush's museum. They've got -- if you go down to Bush's Presidential library, they've got like the whole inner cockpit of Air Force One there. But I digress.

Q Why not.

MR. MCCURRY: Might as well.

This is sheer genius. Facing off against a roomful of armchair slobs bent on seeming like hard-hitting journalists, McCurry puts himself wide open with an ex tempore display of daffiness, then draws them in to his little wacky wordplay. Vintage McCurry; the reporters don't just get answers (or not), they get the subtle message that they're cracking a joke with an equal (that sly "like" in "they've got like the whole inner cockpit" is a lovely curlicue on the McCurry method). And he's an equal who speaks for the most powerful institution on the planet! I submit to you that Mike McCurry understands better than any man alive the principles of the Courtier as they are applied in 1998. Go, Mike! You look great!