Let Them Eat Spam


I ATTENDED A PARTY once in Washington, and among the guests was a fellow sporting a small lapel pin in the shape of a saxophone. I had to laugh, if only to myself.

Having served in the Reagan and Bush administrations, I am well aware of presidential fixations. Reagan had his jellybeans; Bush his horseshoes; Clinton plays the saxophone.

These three highly publicized affectations helped each of these presidents form an unpretentious link with the public at large. There is no more ordinary candy than jellybeans; no more folksy game than horseshoes; and not only is the saxophone one of the few musical instruments invented in the United States, it is used only in popular music. All three devices seem to have been harmless attempts to demonstrate a common touch. But were they ever anything more than character props? Reagan didn’t seem to enjoy jellybeans as much as he enjoyed telling people he enjoyed jellybeans. Ditto for Bush and horseshoes. And I don’t think Clinton has ever played the sax when the TV cameras were not in the room. But at some point, these presidents must have honestly enjoyed these things and we shouldn’t blame them for trying to dust off some old habits.

It’s not so much that presidents might be disingenuous. The point is that people who embrace these regular guy symbols — and are coincidentally in the administration — are disingenuous. There aren’t many people over the age of 7 who have any particular enthusiasm for jellybeans. There aren’t many people under the age of 70 who play horseshoes — not since video games were invented, anyway. And let’s face it, although the saxophone is an instrument that can add a lot to a band, have you ever gone into a record store and asked the clerk for an album of good sax music? Has anyone?

So there’s nothing wrong with jellybeans, horseshoes, or the saxophone. But not many people would go out of their way for what pleasures these things offer. Yet, because a president has adopted one as part of his public relations routine, otherwise rational people will surround themselves with these peculiar emblems. Reagan White House staffers would put jars of jellybeans on their desks for visitors. Employees at the Republican National Committee in the Bush years would say with a straight face, “I like playing horseshoes. Honest.” And now people across town are wearing saxophone lapel pins. Heck, the presidents themselves have never seemed to really like this stuff. Hard to believe anybody else does.

There are a few possible explanations for this type of behavior. Perhaps one percent of the adherents have some kind of passion for jellybeans, or were in the state horseshoe finals, or played the sax in the high school band. This would mean the other 99 percent are either simple sycophants, looking to display their loyalty to the president, or officials so minor, so remote from power, that if they didn’t publicly claim a proximity to the president, no one would suspect it. But if you have to advertise your closeness, you aren’t close. Vernon Jordan and James Carville don’t wear sax pins. John Sununu didn’t spend his free time pitching horseshoes. And Ed Meese did not have a jar of jellybeans on his desk. If the only mechanism you have to demonstrate your membership in the tribe is a superficial emblem, you aren’t in the tribe.

So here’s my advice for Governor Bush. We need a president so disdainful of this type of behavior that he mischievously lets it be known that his favorite pastime is something atrocious — like eating Spam — so every opportunist in Washington runs around chatting about Spam recipes, wearing little Spam lapel pins, serving special Spam dishes, and so forth.

It’d make the saxophone look honest by comparison.


Frank Lavin currently works for an American bank in Singapore.

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