I'm a businessman. I love money, I love power, I love capitalism.

And I love movies about assistants. Or, more accurately, I have a soft spot for movies about assistants, even if they don't turn out to be that good, movie-wise, like "The Devil Wears Prada" and "Twenty-seven Dresses."

Tonight, I was watching "Annie" on TCM, which I've seen a million times, but not since being a grown-up with this particular career, and aside from so many things suddenly making sense (Miss Hannigan's gin-filled bathtub, when Daddy Warbucks says, "Everything's urgent to a Democrat") now that I have a touch more historical and contextual awareness than I did when I was 10, I also discovered that Grace Farrell is the greatest assistant ever.

She's probably called a secretary, but nonetheless she's totally glamorous and competent and a great dancer and has fabulous suits with swinging skirts and hats. She's totally present and attentive and unselfish, and beautiful and sympathetic. She knows when to push Daddy Warbucks into, you know, adopting Annie, and when to sit back and watch him be his blustery self instead of intervening, like in my personal favorite scene of the film: The Iodent Hour. She interviews all the fake parents and bows out of the FDR visit, probably knowing full well that sending Daddy Warbucks with Annie to Washington would shake the Republican out of him. I think we're supposed to embrace The New Deal optimism and all the millions, which is kind of a beautiful simplistic perspective.

Now that we're in the midst of our own modern-day New Deal (if you will) I'm pretty sure America just needs a Grace Farrell to take care of business in kicky heels.