Just Who Are These Guys Kidding? Themselves, Mostly

It’s been said that the easiest person to deceive is one’s self, and ain’t it the truth. That would be lamentable if not for the fact that, of all the human failings, self-delusion may be the most entertaining to watch. A guy thinks everyone is laughing at him because he’s hilarious. He doesn’t realize it’s because his fly is open.

The best opportunity for viewing self-deception on a grand scale occurs every four years when the marching band comes down Main Street USA, under the banner of “Presidential Primary Season.” For some reason, I picture the self-deluders playing the tuba. Rump-bump-bump-bump, rump-bump-bump-bump.

Not everyone who runs can win. But must they make miscalculations on such a massive scale? Every four years, I again marvel at that element of human nature that convinces some people they should run for president. Because, presumably, that person believes he or she could actually be president.

Maybe the blunder seems so Ruthian because the stakes are so much higher. Those of us back here on Planet Earth delude ourselves about our looks or our talent, but we pretty much keep it to ourselves. But declare yourself a candidate for president of the United States, and, suddenly, you’re telling everyone you think you’re pretty special.

The only other realm where miscalculations of this magnitude occur so regularly are in show business. Consistently in Hollywood, people who have been successful in past endeavors make colossal misjudgments that leave us wondering how they could be so out to lunch.

A friend of mine worked for two years with a major Hollywood star. We were chatting about my quadrennial fascination with the pretenders who would be president. What makes Sammy run, I asked my showbiz friend.

He recounted his experience with the Big Star, who was just coming off a hit movie that had propelled him into the big time. Along came another script, written by a hot screenwriter and backed by a top-flight production company.

My friend read the script and, while doing so, got that funny feeling in his stomach. He went in to see another staffer and asked if she had read the script. Yes, she had.

And what did she think, my friend asked.

“I think it stinks,” she said.

“Me too,” said my friend.

The picture was made. The movie bombed.

Question: How could this high-powered triumvirate delude themselves into thinking the movie would fly?

“What I concluded,” my friend said, “is that these three principal players got together and convinced each other that they were such massive talents . . . that the issue of how good a screenplay it was never came up.”

Translated, they said to themselves, “How can we miss?”

That must be what candidates do. Richard Lugar tells himself the country is tired of shrill politicking and will turn to him as the level-headed “good guy” in the race. Alan Keyes tells himself he can talk anyone else under the table and is intriguingly positioned as a black conservative stressing personal values. Bob Dornan tells himself that if he just . . . oh, who knows what he tells himself. He got less than 1% in Iowa. If I ran in Iowa, I could get less than 1%.

My favorite self-deluder of this political season is Phil Gramm.

I know, easy for me to say that now. Ask my friends, though--they’ll tell you I predicted his demise months ago.

And yet, you can see how it started out for Gramm. “Phil, you’re smart. You’re a senator from a big state. You had your name on the Gramm-Rudman bill that budget-cutters liked. You have plenty of organization and money. You’re conservative in a year when conservatives are on top of the world. You’re perfect!”

Poor self-deluded Phil. He couldn’t take stock and say, “If I were honest with myself, I’d have to acknowledge that I’m extremely off-putting to huge numbers of people who don’t live in Texas.”

His advisors forgot to tell him about the voice. Did he really think we wanted to (or could) listen to that voice for four years? And that look when he peers over the glasses?

Sigh. I could have saved them a tremendous amount of time.

Same thing in show business, my friend said. “I think the real analogy, whether it’s people running for office or movie stars, is that they only talk to each other. The notion that they’re out there talking to the public is preposterous.”

We all do it. We hang around with people who reinforce our notions of ourselves.

I, on the other hand, do not self-delude. I’m not running for president or trying to be a movie star.

I’m too busy planning my novel that’s going to be a best-seller.

* Dana Parsons’ columns appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.