July 21, 1995

WEARY of boom boxes and hot pavement, most New Yorkers long for peace when they retreat from the city. The perfect summer weekend, they assert, involves nothing more demanding than trout fishing in the Catskills, staring into the surf at Southampton, L.I., or perhaps people-watching in front of Schemmy's ice-cream parlor in placid Rhinebeck, N.Y. For those addicted to the human drama, however, the best restorative is a few frenzied hours at a county fair, where the smoke from the demolition derby mingles with the screams from the House of Horrors. Give these adventurers a midway where they can dive into a funnel cake or win a goldfish, and they're in heaven. But don't leave out the milking demonstrations, and please include women with serious tattoos and rangy guys in T-shirts that say, "Some of My Best Friends Are Cows." Only sensory overload will do.

The United States and Japan said today that they had reached a basic agreement to settle a dispute over air cargo routes, thereby defusing another in a series of bitter trade conflicts between the world's two largest economies. Under the agreement, the Japanese Government will immediately grant the Federal Express Corporation the right to fly seven new routes through Japan to other points in Asia.

Wrapping up a four-month undercover investigation dubbed "Operation Street Surprise," law enforcement officers conducted a drug sweep on the border between Linden and Roselle yesterday, arresting 23 adults and 11 juveniles. Neighbors cheered while they watched the early-morning raid, The Associated Press reported.

If they ever played Broadway instead of Wall Street, the Big Three auto companies might consider calling their act The Perils of Pollyanna. With their widely varying second quarter earnings reports this week, they demonstrated the danger in their business of excessive optimism. The Ford Motor Company and the Chrysler Corporation, which had breathlessly predicted robust sales this spring, built too many cars and trucks and watched their earnings slide in the second quarter as they ladled out rebates and other incentives to entice indifferent buyers.

SHE'S eccentric, but what great star of silent films wouldn't be after years of public indifference? Certainly her Hollywood-bizarre, fur-trimmed wardrobe indicates that she's no slave to commonplace haute couture. She's the kind of woman who might wear pantaloons or a lampshade with the confidence of someone who sets the fashions that others follow. That needn't be crazy, just self-assurance to an extreme degree. Don't worry that her fondness for wigs and turbans suggests that she has a problem with thinning hair. Like everyone else, when she gazes into the mirror, she sees only the image she holds in her mind. That image is easier to see when supplemented by a wig or a turban. Her imperious manners can't be ignored, but she's no more neurotic than a spoiled child. The truth is that she's really a victim. She's not mad; she's a vulnerable if overprivileged waif.