When I was a kid, I loved to read about heroes such as King David, George Washington and Winston Churchill. I loved history, particularly Old Testament, British and American history.
When I found out in 1977 that we were moving from Australia to California, I was excited. I loved America. I had read dozens of books about it.
Unlike the suave sophisticated adult I am today, when I was a kid I was a loser. I didn’t have many friends. I tended to creep people out with the raunchy things I said. Consequently, I spent most of my time alone. Even when I was with others, I was very alone.
I lived in my head. I told myself stories. I told myself that I would grow up to be great. That I’d be a hero one day. That I’d be president of the United States.
When I was in sixth and seventh grade and I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said "President of the United States."
I quickly found out that that was not possible. That you had to be born in the United States to become president. But despite this, I held on to my dream. I just stopped admitting to it.
One of my favorite questions I like to ask people is, "When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"
Last month, a girl turned that question around on me. I stuttered. I blushed. I tried to get out of it. When she wouldn’t allow me, I admitted that I’d wanted to be president of the United States.
Given the crazy things I’ve done, it’s hard to believe I’ll ever seek political office. But wherever I go, I keep running into people who want me to run.
I was at the doctor today. I complained that all the Republican candidates except Tom Tancredo favored amnesty for illegal aliens. He told me I should be president.
"Where were you born?" he asked.
I told him.
"Then we’ll have to change the law," he said.
