Original text appeared in
U.S. News and World Report, Feb. 2 1987
Dirty Harry for President
As the Presidency of Ronald Reagan dwindles down to its final reels, some conservative Republicans are doing a little California dreaming: After the Gipper, why not Dirty Harry? So here in Carmel, that haven of seaside chic, souvenir shops are doing a brisk business in $12.95 T-shirts proclaiming "Clint Eastwood for President."
And who can blame conservatives for dreaming? After all, Eastwood won the mayoralty of normally Democratic Carmel by a 3-to-1 margin last April and has a political profile almost as good as his movie profile. The mayor's fans claim he is more macho than Bush, more popular than Kemp, more conservative than Dole, richer than Du Pont, less holy than Robertson and, at 6 feet 4 inches, nearly a foot taller than Baker. Of course, they realize that to leap in a single bound from Carmel (pop. 4,825) to the White House seems a little improbable even for Hollywood's hyperhero. Thus, they speculate about an intermediate step, say to the Governor's Mansion in Sacramento, where Ron and Nancy once were tenants.
"Based on name ID alone, he would be a viable national or statewide candidate," declares State Senator John Seymour, chairman of the Californian GOP caucus. Adds California political consultant Joseph Cerrell: "He looks good, sounds good and can do what none of the other famous hot dogs can do- say he started at the grass roots."
Although the silky green lawns of affluent Carmel will never be mistaken for the grass roots of American politics, the town's new mayor already has demonstrated that he has a knack for his newest calling. Eastwood presides over meetings of the town council with measured decisiveness and genial humor, a style that reminds some local Republicans of former Governor Reagan's. For example, during a seemingly interminable debate over whether a "stop" or "slow" sign should be erected at a busy Carmel intersection, the mayor dryly observed, "With a stop sign, at least they'll slow down after they've gone through it." And he also has shown that he has learned the validity of the axiom that "money is the mother's milk of politics." When developers proposed to build townhouses on a favored piece of rural acreage, Eastwood, who owns a local saloon called the Hog's Breath Inn, neatly outwitted them by buying the property himself for $5.5 million.
Carmel's mayor confesses that he has "no idea" what he'll do next but carefully closes no doors. He insists he loves acting too much to devote himself full time to politics. Nevertheless, he admits he enjoys both campaigning and mayoring more than he expected. However, trying to combine politics and moviemaking does present unusual problems. "I had to go to so many teas during the campaign," says Eastwood, "that I had to get my teeth buffed once a week." -Muriel Dobbin
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