We
are told hourly that our national mood grows even sourer. Referring to
the meltdown of the flight attendant who, after allegedly enduring
abuse from belligerent passengers, lost his temper and exited the
aircraft by the emergency chute, Democratic pollster Peter D. Hart
quipped: "I think it's a 'JetBlue' election. Everyone is frustrated,
and everyone is headed for the emergency exit." In dark times, the
nation needs to be able to have a good laugh. No recent American leader
understood that better than former President Ronald Reagan. In 1987,
when confidence in the president's judgment, following the secret
sending of arms to Iran, was slipping and the animosity between White
House chief of staff Donald Regan and first lady Nancy Reagan was an
open secret and there was press speculation about whether the
76-year-old president still had the required energy and stamina to
handle the demands of the office, Mr. Reagan had this to say to the
Gridiron dinner: "1986 was the year of hostile takeover attempts,
inside maneuverings, high-stakes intrigue -- and that was just at the
White House." He continued: "Nancy and Don Regan at one point tried
to patch things up. They met privately over lunch, just the two of them
and their food tasters." Then, to critics of his less than dawn-to-dusk
work schedule, Reagan had this to say: "It's true hard work never
killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance?" Humor, most
especially self-deprecatory humor, where a political leader publicly
kids his own perceived weaknesses and errors, sends an emphatically
positive message about that leader's emotional security. The politician
who can laugh easily at himself tells his audience and the nation that
"I'm really not that pompous or self-important. Even though I'm up here
-- in this office -- on this elevated platform, I don't consider myself
any better than any of you sitting out there." And no, it is not
just a matter of hiring better joke writers. As someone who earlier
worked writing humor for many politicians from both parties, I can
testify that only a special handful are both comfortable and convincing
poking fun at themselves. There was no gag writer present when Reagan,
as a candidate, was asked by a political reporter to autograph a poster
photo of him and his chimp co-star in "Bedtime for Bonzo." Reagan
wrote, "I'm the one with the watch." During the 1980 campaign, after
Reagan incorrectly insisted that trees cause more pollution than
automobiles, he arrived for a speech on a California college campus,
where some wiseguy grad student had hung a sign on a tree: "Cut me down
before I kill again." To his credit, Reagan laughed heartily at the
needle. Once a political leader voluntarily lampoons his own
liabilities, it becomes more difficult for adversaries or the press to
continue to harp on them without sounding like scolds. John F. Kennedy
was secure enough to answer a young child's question on how JFK had
become a naval hero in World War II this way: "It was involuntary. They
sank my boat." And facing charges that he was too young and too
influenced by his willful millionaire father, candidate Kennedy told a
Washington dinner: "I have just received the following telegram from my
generous daddy. It says, 'Dear Jack: Don't buy a single vote more than
is necessary. I'll be damned if I'm going to pay for a landslide.'" In
the late summer of 2010, Americans desperately need leaders who can
help us laugh again. Leaders like Reagan and JFK and the late beloved
Arizona Rep. Morris K. "Mo" Udall, who joked after he lost 14
presidential primaries in 1976 to Jimmy Carter, just 12 years after
Sen. Barry Goldwater had been trounced by Lyndon Johnson, that "Arizona
is the only state where mothers don't tell their children they can grow
up to be president." It would be a welcome antidote to the bitter,
ill-tempered sourness now afflicting our body politic.
To find out more about Mark Shields and read his past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com. DISTRIBUTED BY CREATORS.COM COPYRIGHT 2010 MARK SHIELDS
