Presidential Politics.

This is a rare picture of HE's flirtation with presidential politics. The picture shows me on the campaign trail in 1964 as chair of the Bald-Headed-Droolers party. The finger raised in the air shows the only direction the party had to go in that year. Had I won, it would have been that finger that was on the nuclear button. Wow. In terms of numbers, I also think the raised finger represents the number of votes I received, but I'm uncertain as I had not yet learned to count.



Running that year was a rich and rewarding experience. Out on the hustings I learned much about the American People, and shmoozed with the famous, the powerful, and the well-connected. I knew that networking would be key if I was to be viable as a candidate in '68 if I blew the '64 election. Below is a picture of me discussing orange futures and their impact on the California economy with Nelson Rockefeller.



By 1968 it was time for a new, more conservative and conventional approach. Here I am running on the Large-Foreheaded-Elephant-Eared-Bow-Tie-Future-Total-Geek-Of-America-Will-Never-Be-Dating-Material-Oh-God-A-Plaid-Suit-Ticket. This was even less successful than my previous bid, and effectively ended my career as potential presidential material.



Politics is a cold cold profession, and I only found out years later in Ms. Mize's 8th grade civics class that the reason I received such a small number of votes was that I was too young to run. It also would have been nice if someone told me I had to file as a candidate and the lack of press coverage surely didn't help. The above photo in 1968 is historic for me because that was the last year I didn't have a beard. (Sixty-nine was the Summer of Love and we let it all hang out!) Alas, 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. was a country to which I was never destined to visit. Fata alia parabantur . . . .

HE