A peek at Perot's inner thoughts

Kevin Cowherd

July 08, 1992|By Kevin Cowherd

Another look at Ross Perot's diary:

June 12 -- Maybe it's me, but there seems to be a national preoccupation with my height. I was on Larry King's TV show and the first caller asked if my feet were actually touching the floor. The second caller wondered whether I paid adult prices at the movies. The third caller asked if I was sitting on the phone book.

What am I -- Herve Villechaize?! Besides, how tall do you have to be to tell the Japanese: "We want a fair shake on auto imports?"

June 18 -- Spent an hour at a Chicago mall checking the coin return slots of the public phones for loose change. Margot was mortified. Finally, she said "Let's go!" and grabbed me by the back of the neck as the photographers snapped away, but not before ol' Ross found 55 cents.

June 19 -- The media keep beating me up with this business about spying on my employees. It's like I told that Peter Jennings fella: I don't go digging into people's private lives. If you're a married man and you want to sneak out to some cheap hotel within blocks of the White House for a sordid rendezvous with some gin-swilling floozie -- like a certain president used to do and probably still does -- hey, it's no skin off my nose.

'Course, right away Jennings starts badgering me: "Which president?! President Bush? Are you accusing Mr. Bush of adultery?" Got himself all in a lather, Jennings did.

Hmmmm, Jennings, Jennings . . . he's Canadian, right? Seems to me there was a story making the rounds about him in Toronto some years back. Something about a glue habit. Or he was a transvestite. Or something.

Let me make a couple of calls.

June 21 -- People keep asking how I'll reduce the federal deficit. Simple. Over here you have the deficit, right? And it's real, you know . . . big. We all know it's too big. We can see it's too big. But the Bush Administration just throws up its hands and says: Nothing you can do.

Horse-hockey! What I'd do is take a big ol' chain saw -- figure of speech, of course, -- and W-H-O-N-N-K! There goes waste in government spending. W-H-O-N-N-K! There goes social security and Medicare subsidies to the rich. W-H-O-N-N-K! There goes the free ride for Germany and Japan for having U.S. troops stationed there guarding their butts.

If my math is correct -- and you better not say it ain't, mister, or I'll put Margot on you -- that's $300 billion we trimmed right there. Honestly, what's the big deal?

June 23 -- We're in Arkansas and this big fat lady in a yellow dress asked me my views on the Persian Gulf war. Well, I was against it from the start. That fella there in Kuwait, the whatchacallit, the emir? He's still stuffing his pockets with all that oil money. And Saddam Hussein is still running the show in Iraq. So what did the fighting prove?

Know what I would have done? Sent a Special Forces chopper into Baghdad towing a huge magnet. Don't laugh. Then you fly the magnet over the presidential palace, or wherever Saddam was hiding, and just suck him out by his belt buckle.

Saw something like that on "Knight Rider" once. Boy, that was a terrific show!

June 28 -- You know who would make a great vice president? If he were, y'know, real? Batman. Every time the president needed help with something like tax reform or some Middle Eastern despot causing trouble, he'd place a call to the Bat Cave and pretty soon Batman would roar up and straighten everything out.

Wouldn't that be something? 'Course, when I mentioned this at a dinner party the other night, Margot started rolling her eyes. I also caught her pointing at me and making tiny circles around her temple with her index finger when she thought I wasn't looking.

Now they're talking about easing my campaign schedule for a few weeks.

July 1 -- I see where Marilyn Quayle called me a kook. Let me get this straight. Here's a woman who belongs to some cult religion that worships, I don't know, an Amana Radar Range or something. And I'm the weirdo?

And they talk about my haircut. What did she do, corner the world market on Dippity-Doo? You could drop a safe on her head from 15 stories up, she wouldn't feel a thing.

July 7 -- Here's one for the books: Nearly got into a fistfight with Mickey Mouse. Well, Margot did, anyway. We're visiting Disney World and the publicity people say: "Ross, let's get a shot of you and Mickey in front of the Magic Kingdom."

Fine, fine, I say. Anything for the cause. So I'm standing there and this stupid mouse starts patting my head and calling me "little fella" and asking which rides my parents have taken me on so far.

Then Margot came over and grabbed Mickey by the throat and hissed: "Watch it, slimeball!" before the security people moved in.

She's some woman, Margot. Tough as iron.

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