Deja Vu - Part One: 1992

The presidential election in 1992 offered three choices: George H. W. Bush, William Jefferson Clinton, and H. Ross Perot.

George Bush seemed to be sleepwalking through the campaign, and it was a tossup trying to decide if he was simply resting on the presumed laurels of the first Gulf War or if he was running for a second term not because he wanted it but because doing so was expected of him. In either case, he was neither forceful nor engaging as a candidate. As much as I desperately wanted to vote for him, Bush refused to give me even a hint of a reason as to why I should.

The Man From Hope Offered me none. While it became obvious early on that of all the candidates he was unquestionably the one I would most want to spend an evening chatting over a case of cold ones with - I'd still jump at that opportunity were it ever to arise - there was no way in the world I was ever going to vote for Bill Clinton. Two terms, boxers-or-briefs, and Monica Lewinsky later that opinion still holds. There is something about the man that screamed he should not be president, and it was something that went far beyond disagreement with his political philosophy.

And that left H. Ross Perot. The man married well and built an impressive business with the proceeds. He talked with a funny accent and funnier idiom, and had ears that were even more prominent than a current candidate for the White House. All in all, he was one of the least likely candidates for the office to ever do as well as he was doing. He was just crazy enough and down-home enough to make him seem like one of us - albeit with a few billion more tucked away in his money market account. His withdrawal from the race in July and later return in October either frustrated and infuriated supporters, or left them with a bemused sense of remembering high school days and trying to nail down a date with that really pretty girl in fifth period.

The polling place for that election was a five minute walk from my home. I was undecided as to who would finally get my vote up until the very end. It was not until the middle of the afternoon, sitting in my living room watching early election coverage on CNN that I finally came to a decision: Clinton would never get my vote, Bush would never give me a reason to give him my vote, and Perot couldn't possibly be the total crackpot his detractors were making him out to be. If nothing else, in the unlikely event he won the election it could prove to be a very interesting four years.

With a nagging sense of betrayal - whether it was me betraying George H. W. Bush and conservative principles, or George Bush having betrayed me and my principles for not aggressively standing up for the cause I'm still not certain - I gave my support to Perot.

Next: 2008