
Rudy, you can't meet with the Russians. It'll be a disaster of epic proportions. How so? What could possibly go wrong? There are always unintended consequences with Russia. It was summer of 1988. I was a teenager on a one-man goodwill tour across the Soviet Union. Just me, my Harley and my leather jacket ... that is, until I visited the Kremlin. Let's just say I rode the last few thousand miles of that journey with a beautiful older blonde named Irina clinging to my back. Her father Mikhail was