DICK TUCK’S WASHINGTON ‘PROJECT’

Because of his, er, attentions to the various campaigns of Richard M. Nixon, Dick Tuck always was considered a merry prankster of Democratic persuasion. A re-evaluation may be in order. Tuck says he voted not once but twice for President Ronald Reagan.

“I rather like him,” Tuck adds. He says he voted against the Democratic contenders--Jimmy Carter in 1980 and Walter Mondale in 1984--because “I didn’t like them.”

He doesn’t think his votes distressed those on high in the Democratic Party. “Most just didn’t believe it,” he says. But in his opinion, “they don’t recognize the real world when they see it. The Democratic Party has lost touch with Americans.”

Tuck, who resembles a Gaelic Father Christmas without beard and who gives the impression that he sends his clothes to the cleaners for rumpling, has recently embarked upon a new career--but not in the GOP, or even as a free-lance anarchist.

“I’m leaving politics and going into entertainment,” he says. “Maybe I’m not changing--maybe politics is changing. It’s not the entertainment that it once was.”

Specifically, he has written an outline for what he hopes will become a film entitled “Capitol Hill Blues.” It’s about a group of young folks employed as summer interns in Congress. Their goal is to carry on in Washington as they would during Easter vacation in Fort Lauderdale--a bit of drinking, sex and even loose behavior.

“It’s kind of ‘Animal House’ in Washington,” he says, but emphasizes that its tone is somewhat loftier. The interns succumb to idealism in the course of their summer tour.

He nodded when advised that, since he’s serious about his new venture, he should start talking Hollywood, starting with calling his proposal a “project.”

“A project it is,” he says. “I have some money people--is that what you call ‘em?--who are putting together this package. They’re old friends, but they’re in this to make money. They aren’t philanthropists.”

Tuck was in town last month, making the rounds with his outline/project/package. Among those who saw it was Thomas Baer, his attorney when the Watergate Committee sought--but didn’t get--Tuck’s testimony on the political pranks he pulled against Nixon.

“I saw it and he discussed it with me, but I have made no decision yet,” says Baer, now an independent producer at Orion. And, he adds, “Anything he shows me I’ll look at carefully from every aspect, including whether he really owns it.”

(An affectionate jest. But Baer seriously wishes that his friend--regardless of what happens with “Blues”--could find employment of some sort in Hollywood. It would enliven the hamlet no end, he says, and “what he could do boggles the mind.”)

Tuck’s fame as a leg-puller on the Democratic side is chiefly due to his history of capers against Nixon, whose mind first was boggled by Tuck during Nixon’s 1950 Senate race against Rep. Helen Gahagan Douglas--for whom Tuck worked while a student at UC Santa Barbara.

Nixon’s campaigners, unaware of Tuck’s ties to Douglas, asked him to do advance work for a campus visit by Nixon. Tuck happily agreed. He booked a huge hall but only invited a handful of people. It is said that Nixon was so displeased at the tiny turnout that he fired Tuck, who was to continue bedeviling Nixon for years.

The prankster, whose dossier also includes a stint as political affairs editor of National Lampoon magazine, has himself run for public office. Just once, though.

The year was 1966, the office the state Senate district encompassing downtown Los Angeles. His allies put up billboard signs that said: “The job needs Tuck and Tuck needs the job.” For some reason, he did not win.

In a now-classic concession speech, the candidate had this to say: “The people have spoken, the bastards.”

Tuck, 61, concedes that it won’t be easy to persuade the titans of Tinseltown that his proposed film is no prank: “I would have trouble convincing anybody that anything I’ve ever done is serious--except Richard Nixon.”

But his movie is the real McCoy, he says, and “if it has any message at all, it is that Washington should not be taken too seriously.” He deplores life as it now exists there, says its current crop of inmates are a pretty drab, humorless lot indeed.

He attributes this to the fact that government now has become a full-time career, that the day of the citizen-participant is no more, that politicians, once ensconced in Washington, rarely leave because they think they are engaged in Serious Business.

He wishes everyone there would heed the advice that a friend of his, former Sen. Clair Engle (D-Calif.), once gave him. “He told me, ‘When you go to Washington, take two clean shirts. When they’re dirty, go home.’

“I think air conditioning ruined Washington,” Tuck mused. “Before it, during those muggy summers, everybody went home.”