HOORAY FOR HOLLYWEIRD…

Celebrities endorsing candidates is not a new phenomenon. Charlton Heston has been shilling for Jesse Helms for years. Michael Jordan endorsed Bill Bradley. George Dubbya Bush has snagged a veritable "Who’s Who" among the "Whatever Happened To…" crowd: Bo Derek, Chuck Norris, Pat Boone and Wayne Newton have all come out in favor of the Texas governor. And, of course, who could forget the endless photos from the LA Democratic Convention showing celebs hobnobbing with the candidates.

I hadn’t really given much thought to the idea of celebrity endorsements for my own Presidential candidacy. But when I heard former UNC coach Dean Smith’s voice endorsing gubernatorial candidate Richard Vinroot, I experienced the immediate reaction of the die-hard Carolina fan to hearing that familiar flat, nasal drone: I threw myself face-down on the floor in worship before the TV. Suddenly, I began to feel the power of celebrity endorsements.

I knew it was time to act. I needed a celebrity of my own. It was rough going at first. Barbara Streisand’s people threatened me with a restraining order, Warren Beatty sent my letters back unopened, and I don’t even want to talk about the incident with Jennifer Aniston’s security guards.

I decided I need professional help, which is a not uncommon conclusion in this campaign. After several phone calls to agencies (and several hang-ups), I ended up in the office of Morris Arbuckle, "Artistes Representative". Arbuckle had a one-room office in a crumbling office building in a rather dubious looking neighborhood in Burbank. I stepped over an unconscious wino and mounted the creaky steps to the second floor.

"So," Arbuckle said, puffing on a cheap cigar. "You wanna book a celebrity to endorse you. Well, you have come to the right place, my friend. Who you got in mind?"

"Well," I began, "I thought I could get somebody like Martin Sheen. I mean, you know, we could have ads like "I’m not the President, but I play one on TV and I think you ought to vote for…"

"Sorry, babe," Arbuckle said. "Al Gore’s got Sheen pretty well sewed up."

"Damn," I said. "How about one of the Baldwin brothers?"

"You want the one that’s married to Kim Basinger, the good-looking-but-dumb one, the fat one, or the one who gets out-acted by an M & M?"

I scratched my head. "I don’t think I can afford the one that’s married to Kim Basinger," I admitted. "How about the M & M guy?"

Arbuckle shrugged. "Your funeral, babe. But I got two words for you: Barney Rubble."

"Huh?"

"Second ‘Flintstones’ movie, babe. You ever seen it?"

"Ahhh…no."

"Nobody else did, either. But he played Barney."

"Oh, my God."

"Exactly. Not the image you want." He riffled through his Rolodex. "Hey, you know that girl from ‘American Beauty’? The young blonde?"

"Do I?" I said. "She’s gorgeous! Can I have her? I mean, can I have her endorsement?"

"Yeah, right. Get real. But her hairdresser’s kid is trying break into show biz, and he works cheap."

I sighed. "I don’t think so."

"Listen, babe, let me level with you. These celebrity endorsements are all about power. They’re about juice. They’re about creating a buzz. And I hate to tell you this, but you got less buzz than a beehive at the South Pole. You got less juice than a California raisin. You got less…"

"All right, you made your point!" I yelled. I took a deep breath. "Mine is a campaign of ideas," I muttered when I calmed down.

"Well, there’s your trouble, babe," Arbuckle replied. "If Hollywood was interested in new ideas, they wouldn’t have made ‘Nutty Professor II’. Hey, how about Alec Guinness?"

I looked at him suspiciously. "Didn’t he just die?"

"Oh, yeah," Arbuckle said. He removed a yellowing card from his Rolodex. Feeling that maybe I wasn’t dealing with the best connected agent in the world, I beat a hasty retreat.

So now, as always, I make a virtue of necessity. Being the candidate of ideas, I hereby declare my campaign 100% Baldwin-free. THAT ought to get me some votes.