September 17, 1995

New York opened its countdown to the Breeder's Cup yesterday with an all-star show built around six Grade I stakes, but the spotlight was captured by two horses who gave championship performances: Cigar, who won the Woodward Stakes for his 10th victory in a row and a tighter grasp on the title of Horse of the Year, and Inside Information, who won the Ruffian Handicap by 11 lengths and may be the grandest filly in the land. Cigar, in particular, was so brilliant that Jack Nicholson, the film star who is known for his fondness for cigars, joined the horse in the winner's circle and said, "I bought a $5 ticket to have it framed and signed." And Mike Smith, after directing Inside Information into the winner's circle, said with some wonder, "You would pay for the privilege of taking a ride like that."

IF there are two words that sum up this obsessively planned city of 120,000 in the heart of Orange County, they are symmetry and order. In Woodbridge Village, the largest subdivision here, there is a central corridor of churches, shopping centers and low-rise office buildings with nearly identical manmade lakes on either side. Spreading out from their banks are similar wood-framed town houses, thickets of oleander and tract housing. Businesses, and homeowners, are strictly regulated so they do not upset the buff-hued color scheme. And in a city dedicated to healthy living, there is no cemetery.

Donald Rataczak, an economist at Georgia State University, checks out the number of buildings with "for sale" and "for lease" signs whenever he goes into downtown Atlanta. And he usually finds out how full the motels are during the two big furniture shows in High Point-Greensboro, N.C. Stephen S. Roach constantly talks to securities analysts at Morgan Stanley, his Wall Street firm. They relay the sentiment they are hearing from executives at hundreds of companies. As for Henry Kaufman, the renowned prognosticator, "when I drive home in New Jersey, I always look to see how crowded the shopping center parking lots are."

AFTER the parking lot of a medical office building in New Hyde Park emptied one evening, seven teen-agers on in-line skates lined up behind a handrail, ready to perform tricks. One skater, Mike Nelson, 15, approached the rail, jumped and landed on it, locking his skate on it and sliding down with one foot sideways and the other foot dragging behind.

WITHOUT a trace of embarrassment, Senator Bob Dole this summer delivered an utterly undisguised political appeal: "I'm willing to be another Ronald Reagan," he told members of the Republican National Committee gathered in Philadelphia, "if that's what you want." Giving the impression that his transformation from a pragmatist to a devoted Reaganite occurred overnight, Mr. Dole said he was responding to people who told him the night before that "what they are really yearning for in Philadelphia is another Ronald Reagan." His remarks were still more stunning because everybody (particularly the Republican faithful) knows that Bob Dole is no Ronald Reagan -- and never pretended to be. At the Drop of a Poll Mr. Dole's comments -- and his evolving (rightward) positions on issues ranging from affirmative action to gun control to welfare to homosexuals in the military -- has led critics to lump him and most of his Republican competitors with President Clinton as politicians who will recast their positions at the drop of a hat -- or, more to the point, the drop of a poll.