In his April role, Perot re-created the appealing legend of the Roman general who reluctantly left his private labors when his country called. The billionaire seemed remarkably unselfish. He played hard-to-get in a medium where everyone’s selling something. The fact that he was actually easy to get–a publicity hound who loves the talk-show circuit-didn’t register.
Unlike George Bush and Bill Clinton, Perot seemed to fit into the clothes from Truman’s haberdashery. He spoke refreshingly plain language, free of the endless weasel words that cause so much distrust of politicians. Even if the deficit couldn’t be fixed without breaking a sweat, as he claimed, the no-nonsense spirit shone through.
By May, Perot was leading in polls, and serious people actually embraced the idea of electing the first president since Washington who belonged to no party. His riffs on the Founding Fathers, the pioneers and “The Sound of Music” (“Climb every mountain, ford every stream” was a favorite) made him seem the inspirational commander of a new American revolution. In Perot Land, politics would be shed of “politics” and the president would be elected without campaigning.
There’s absolutely nothing European about Perot, but beset by stories about his penchant to investigate people, he began to resemble the fictional detective. It was later charged that he even spied on his daughter’s boyfriend because he was Jewish. He was so security-obsessed that he hired his own bodyguards because, as Sidney Blumenthal reported in The New Republic, he thought the Secret Service would snoop on him for Bush and the CIA.
The press eventually began to learn that straight talk also meant straight lies. He said, “I don’t dig into people’s private lives. I never have.” (There are any number of cases.) He said reports of a company policy against beards were a “goofy…myth.” (A written policy existed.) He said he’d “never once” lobbied the mayor of Ft. Worth on a family project. (Plenty of evidence proved otherwise.) Every day brought a new example. By the time Perot claimed he was getting out because he thought he would throw the election into the House of Representatives, he sounded like just another car salesman.
Once he withdrew, it was as if Toto had pulled back the curtain to reveal a silly little man, fruitlessly spinning dials and blowing smoke. And Perot’s efforts to continue his petition drive looked a bit like the Wizard’s efforts to get back to Kansas by balloon: with the spell of his power broken, the excursion was folly.
The September tease-was he in or out?-would have made a stripper blush. Democratic and Republican officials showed up in Dallas last week to catch the garters-bit parts in his burlesque. The press knew it was being conned into reporting that his decision was “up to the volunteers”-but let the charade continue anyway because it made good copy.
Perot’s next media incarnation is no more predictable than the last. He could come across as a Donald Trumpesque egomaniac, diverting but annoying. Or a chicken-fried Cassandra, confronting the economic future the other candidates ignore. If he is allowed to participate, the debates play to his strengths. While billed as substantive, these contests are actually scored by toting up the snappiest sound bites. This may be especially true this year, when scheduling conflicts with sports mean millions will likely miss at least some of the debates and depend on excerpts shown on the news. Clinton, who tends to speak in complex paragraphs, is constitutionally incapable of a killer sound bite; his speeches, like the jazz he plays, are a constantly changing series of riffs, never exactly the same twice. (The only one-liner associated with him the whole year is “I didn’t inhale.”) Bush uncorks plenty of catchy foam, but the pop-culture references are often strained and frivolous coming from a president. Only Perot really speaks in the argot of good TV.
The risk for Perot is that the medium that created him may now trivialize him. But in any role, hero or villain, Perot breaks through. And on TV, how they play (who sounds good, looks honest, seems presidential) is usually more decisive than what they say. The only sure outcome on TV is that impression triumphs over content. Whether Perot cheapens or deepens the drama depends on which of his characters show up-and which ones the audience wants to see.
