Watching George W. Bush work his curious “I’m a Little Teapot” number with an apparently bemused Ricky Martin on an inaugural stage, I realized how much I was going to miss Bill Clinton. And Bush could take some boogey-down lessons from Janet Reno. Despite her Parkinson’s disease, she showed how to get a real groove thing going during a surprise inaugural weekend appearance on “Saturday Night Live.”
Back in the nation’s capital, there is a new atmosphere. You could see it in the private jets lined up wingtip-to-wingtip at Reagan National Airport. You could hear it in the bespectacled lawyers and investment bankers kicking up their heels in their tuxedos and 10-gallon hats and trying to say “howdy” with some figment of authenticity at the Texas State Societies-sponsored “boots and black tie” inaugural ball.
The people who live in Washington through one administration after another shrugged. Hey, they seemed to be saying, if we could put up with pizza boxes in the Oval Office for eight years, we can put up with this. (“We were here when you came,” goes the slogan of permanent bureaucrats. “We will be here when you go.”)
But I really missed Clinton when Bush started undoing Clinton’s executive orders. Our new “compassionate-conservative” president used his first major executive order to cut off federal aid to any international family planning groups that provide abortion counseling or services. In so doing, the ex-governor of the state that leads the nation in executions called piously for a “culture of life.” I guess that “a culture of life . . . until sentenced to death” wasn’t catchy enough.
Yes, my friends, the folks who brought you catsup as a “vegetable” and a new missile as a “peacekeeper” are back.
But I don’t think anyone could miss Clinton as much as Clinton appears to miss being president–from the very moment he ceased to be president. Most outgoing presidents sit quietly through their successor’s swearing in, then graciously slip out a back way and disappear. Not our Bill. Before boarding his plane at Andrews Air Force Base, he talked so long and whipped up the crowd so hard in front of the television cameras that his departure looked like yet another campaign rally.
Maybe that’s what we are witnessing. Maybe this is just another little episode in Clinton’s big permanent campaign of life. Which leads us to the intriguing question of what precisely Clinton should do now that he has “ex” in front of his title.
We Americans have made remarkably uncreative use of our ex-presidents. This is partly because the average life span of male Americans was well under 50 years old for the first 100 years or so of our history. Now it is well over 70, especially for those who have good medical coverage. The result: a record number of ex-presidents are alive and well and wondering what to do with their time.
A poll published in USA Today asked Baby Boomers how they think Clinton should spend his post-White House days. Five percent thought “motivational speaking.” Eleven percent suggested “college professor.” Nineteen percent suggested “peace negotiator for the United Nations.” But a whopping 40 percent had what I think is the right idea: “Form a jazz ensemble as lead sax player.” I like it. Any president can write books, give lectures and settle peace deals. Clinton can play the sax in public again. That should put a smile on Bubba’s face.
Think of the fun! Think of the fame! Think of the babes! Which is as good of a reason as any for Clinton to consider some other line of work.
College professor has promise, but would you want your daughter to be one of his students? Peace negotiator is cool, too, but Jimmy Carter has that job almost sewn up. As president, Carter was so-so. As an ex-president he is a pacesetter.
I have some other suggestions:
Political consultant. If I were running for office, I’d hire him. Ask the professionals. They will tell you that nobody knows their business better than Clinton.
Fundraiser. (See political consultant above.)
Black leader. Clinton is so popular with African-Americans that author Toni Morrison calls him America’s “first black president.” He could set new standards for crossover appeal.
Cigar store owner. I hear he likes to chew on them, but doesn’t inhale.
First husband. He’ll have to wait until at least 2004 for this one. But his wife seems to like the idea.
———-
More Top Picks Ratings
Clarence Page is a member of the Tribune’s editorial board. E-mail: [email protected]