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(The Oval Office. President Nixon sits behind his desk, preparing for his most important speech in years. He mouths the words to himself while people hover around him—checking his microphone, powdering his upper lip. It's almost time. A director asks for quiet. "Five...four...three...two..." "Good evening. I'm speaking to you tonight about a matter of great importance to you and your family—money. In order to grow, your money must be invested wisely. That's why I recommend—" "Cut! He's sweating again. Powder him up!") He's baaa-ack. Yes, thanks to The First Independence Bank of New Jersey, Richard M. Nixon is back on TV. Commercials featuring The Great Jowly One will soon begin running in the New York-New Jersey area and, since I know you can't wait, here's what I observed the night of the shoot. Nixon entered the studio at eleven-thirty—the late hour a curious attempt to keep the press away. First thing they did was sit him down in the "Oval Office" and give him his first shave of the evening. The five o'clock shadow that made him look like a crooked bastard in 1960 wasn't going to help the bank's image in 1989. But, a great opportunity is lost... "We shaved one side of Dick Nixon's face with an ordinary blade, the other with new TwinTrak from Gillette." Nixon gestured to a Mr. Vandenhuyvel, the vice president of the bank. "Hey Van!" Van came over quickly. Nixon whispered something to him and, just as quickly, Van ran off and returned with a telephone. Nixon dialed, then waited for a few seconds. "No, no, I don't mind." He hung up. This happened often. He'd make a call, wait, hang up. Who was he calling? Bush? Vesco? His Hong Kong mistress? Pat? You'll never guess. Filming a commercial—whether it features Tricky Dick or Joe Isuzu—is a painstaking, time-consuming process. Things never go as planned. For example, the "storyboard" called for the camera to zoom slowly into Nixon, with the final shot framed so that his face completely fills the screen. But, every time they would get close, his upper lip would begin to sweat—just like the old days. After a creative powwow, it was decided to go to a wider shot. But that meant adding something to the background. The set wasn't wide enough. So, they hauled in some potted plants, stretched the curtains out a bit, added a couple of flags—meanwhile, I watched Nixon. He was uncharacteristically relaxed. And in a chatty mood. When he noticed that a member of the crew was wearing a Washington Redskins t-shirt he began to talk—to no one in particular. "I was at the game last week. They had Minnesota totally baffled. Shut down the passing game completely. That new kid—Jones? James? Jackson?—anyway, he had three interceptions at the half. Great field position...great field position..." "Mr. President..." "They plowed the ball in—just rammed it down their throats, and then—" "Mr. President, sir—" "And then—nothing. The running game stopped and that new kid—Morris? Morse? Morrison..?" "Sir, we have to—" "Anyway, Morton panicked. He tried to do it all by himself. And, you know, when you're down by four points, which is what I think they were when they took out what's-his-name—" "Please, sir, we have to try one more." "Oh sure, sure." "Quiet please!" "Five...four...three...two..." "Good evening. I'm speaking to you tonight about a matter of great importance to you and your family—money. In order to grow, your money must be invested wisely. That's why I recommend a high-yield three-year certificate of deposit, fully insured by the United States Government, as offered by The First Independence Bank of New Jersey. Recently, Pat and I—" "Cut! Powder!" We're on a five. Nixon is handed the phone. He waits, nods, says something and hangs up. "Let's see, the Giants are looking very strong..." he continued, again to no one in particular. They began powdering his lip. "...Mmmmphhh flumphh fumphhh mummmphhh..." Why would Nixon agree to do a commercial? For an answer, I turned to Jay Berston, one of the "creative directors" with the advertising agency. "Ed Bolibaugh, the president of the bank, is an old Nixon pal. They go back maybe forty years. The savings and loan crisis hit Bolibaugh big—in fact, The First Independence Bank was The First Independence Savings and Loan until recently. He borrowed heavily, and then, when he needed to scrounge up new depositors in a hurry, he called on his old friend. By the way, even though Nixon has been free to make commercial endorsements since he left office in 1974, this is the first one he's ever agreed to do." "That's a feather in your cap," I said, not sure how he'd take it. "But didn't Nixon do commercials for Burger King about five years ago?" "Burger King?" "Quiet please!" "Five...four...three...two..." "Good evening. I'm speaking to you tonight—" "Cut! Make-up!" It was time for another shave. Back to Jay Berston. "He didn't do Burger King, did he?" I assured him he had, even though it wasn't true. Then, shaken, he continued. "So, about ten days ago we were called in for a meeting with Bolibaugh, Nixon's lawyers, and a talent agent from William Morris who represents Nixon theatrically. We went over all the ground rules." "Like, `No Nudity.'" "Well, more like staying away from any material that reflects on the man politically." "Like Watergate." "Right. Like Watergate." "And the bombing of Cambodia." "Yeah. Excuse me for a second." I never saw him again. It was getting late. I was very tired. I'm not sure, but I think I went over and asked Nixon for an autograph. "Who shall I make it out to?" "Alger Hiss." "Could you spell that?" "Quiet please!" I must have dozed off. "Five...four...three...two..." "Good evening. I'm speaking to you tonight about a matter of great importance to you and your family—money. In order to grow, your money must be invested wisely. That's why I recommend a high-yield three-year certificate of deposit, fully insured by the United States Government, as offered by The First Independence Bank of New Jersey. Recently, Pat and I were looking for a safe place to invest our modest savings. We chose The—" "Cut! I heard something!" It was my laughter, I admit it. But, when they looked around the room, I stonewalled. I covered up. I pointed at Mr. Vandenhuyvel. "That's a five!" It was now two-thirty in the morning. I was getting too tired to laugh. They went back to work on Nixon, who made yet another phone call. "Yup. Um-hmm. Thanks." He hung up and absentmindedly handed the phone to one of the make-up people. She didn't know what to do with it, so she handed it to me. By now I was really fading. Not Nixon. "Quiet please!" "Five...four...three...two..." "Good evening. I'm speaking to you tonight about a matter of great importance to you and your family—money. In order to grow, your money must be invested wisely. That's why I recommend a high-yield three-year certificate of deposit, fully insured by the United States Government, as offered by The First Independence Bank of New Jersey. Recently, Pat and I were looking for a safe place to invest our modest savings. We chose The First Independence Bank of New Jersey. Why? Security. I believe in security. Just like I believe in executive privilege. Think about it. If those bastards hadn't made me turn over the tapes I wouldn't be sitting here now, in this cheap replica of the Oval Office, begging you to bail out an old "friend" who got his nuts caught in the S&L grinder. I am not a crook..." The phone rings, jarring me awake. "Cut! I think we can use that." I pick up the receiver. "Hello?" "Mr. Nixon please." It's a female voice. And it's not Mrs. Nixon. "Who shall I say is calling?" Silence at her end. Then, with great hesitancy, she spoke. "This is—Shirley. Shirley MacLaine." Just when you think you know everything... "Please hold." I handed the phone to Mr. Vandenhuyvel, who brought it to Nixon. He brightened immediately. Then he took out a small notepad and wrote something in it. What was going on here? Was Nixon going New Age? Were they collaborating on a book? Was he making a deal to be "channeled?" "That's a wrap!" Suddenly everyone heads for the door. Vandenhuyvel helps Nixon on with his coat and, in the rush, I notice something fall to the floor. It's the notepad. I pick it up. Nixon had written: "Giants +2 vs. Chicago" "San Diego -7½ vs. Green Bay" "Seattle +1 vs. Denver" I checked it out. He and Shirley would have won all three games. |