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Mick's Blog: That time I met....President William Jefferson Clinton!

Posted: Jul 23rd 2010 By: mikeiles

Another "Name Dropping" Post! By the way these posts, along with Mick's Favorite Things, they are excerpts that didn't make the final cut of COUNTDOWN TO LOCKDOWN. But I wanted you to be able to read them anyway!

I thought this would be great to post about when I met President Clinton, since there is so much focus on his lovely daughter Chelsea's wedding.

So, meeting Bill: ok, maybe it was just a book signing - not some type of great moment in U.S. history like Larry King might be able to recall sharing with the President, but nonetheless, I enjoyed my brief meeting with Bill Clinton and learned a lot about effective interpersonal communication from watching a master of the craft.

The signing was at "The Book Review" on Long Island, a venerable independent bookstore that had played host to a couple of my own signings, raucous, sold out affairs that saw fans camped out overnight, desperate for a chance to spend some time with a beloved entertainer. Wait, what's that you say - that was Regis Philben's book signing, not mine? Perhaps, but even during an ice storm that covered the Island with a frosty veneer not seen since the days of Chilly McFreeze (a suggested name for the future "Stone Cold" Steve Austin by a well intentioned but misguided WWE employee) I still managed to pull in a respectable crowd.
Not respectable enough to merit special treatment at the Presidential book signing, however. Actually, nobody got special treatment at the Clinton signing, by order of the secret service. I had written a letter to the President that I'd hoped he'd read - discussing some of the work I'd done overseas as well as my hope that someday we might work together on some type of project in the developing world.

It was a pretty bleak day in mid-December, but despite the weather, a line of book buyers wrapped around the block. Estimated wait time for the average book buying schmo? About two hours. Average wait time for a 3 time WWE champion? About two hours. Two hours I decided to spend productively - watching book buyers as they emerged from the Review, a precious copy of "Giving" in their hands, signed by the President himself.

These people had waited two hours in the cold, the snow, the slush, but they seemed to be fairly floating on a cloud of the President's making. Women, especially, seemed almost giddy, as if they might like something other than a signature from the President. I asked some of them about their experience - little things - "how was it?," "was he nice?," "are you glad you waited?"
There were no "kindas," no "maybes," no "I guess so's." All definitive declarations. "He was awesome." "He was so nice." "Oh, I'm so glad I waited."

This was very interesting, very useful. For once upon a time, in the not so distant past, I used to draw these Clintonesque crowds, (well almost) although the percentage of giddy women at my signings was considerably lower, almost non-existent. However, it might surprise you to hear the number one comment from the moms who have been dragged to one of my signings by an enthusiastic child. "You look much better in person than you do on T.V." Not bad, as far as backhanded compliments go.

Entering the actual store, noting a line that still zig-zagged through literary sections - biography, history, holiday, children's - I made a key observation. My 2000 children's book "Christmas Chaos" was in the discount rack, at the bargain price of $3.99 a copy. Wow, an 80% discount from the cover price. I could probably e-bay those bad boys just in time for Christmas eve. I scooped up all 17 copies, and arms full of the perennial holiday classic, continued the zig-zagging process, in my quest to meet the President and hand him my letter and a check for his foundation, maybe even tell a quick story or two, before being escorted out by the President's security detail.

Up ahead, in the clearing - there he was; and he was standing. Standing! Oh, this guy's good, he's real good. A lot better than me. When I get to a signing, I put my butt in the seat and stay there for the duration, like I'm glued there, like I'm drawn to the seat by magnetic force, like there's a giant screw going through the underside of my chair, going deep, deep, deep into my?..maybe I should have ended with the "magnetic force" example.

Look, what's this? Look at the President. He's actually making eye contact with every person he meets. He looks directly at them, speaks with them as he's signing - eyes still fixed on theirs, and offers up a smile and a "thank you" as each one departs. No wonder the people I'd spoken to outside were floating on clouds; the President made each short meeting feel like it was the most important meeting of his life. Like there was no place he'd rather be than right there at the Book Review, looking directly into the eyes of whoever crossed his path. He may have been a good President (at least I thought so) but this guy would never make it as a domestic servant at Tom Cruise's house. All that eye contact? No way! You know who didn't make eye-contact with anyone, at least in the few times I saw him? Donald Trump. None. Just walked through the halls of the arena, flanked by a security team that dwarfed the President's, eyes fixed straight ahead. Too cool for school. Actually, Stone Cold said Trump was a nice guy. So did five WWE Divas with big boobs! They said he was really nice.
My turn to meet the President. "Hello, Mr. President, do you mind if I tell you a quick story."

"Why sure." I knew I had to make it real quick.
"Well, Mr. President, I had the privilege of writing a book for Knopf. (Clinton and I shared the same publisher) and to tell you the truth, I was a little intimidated the first time I went to their offices. (Knopf had an incredible line-up of distinguished authors in their line-up; I was like the red-headed stepchild of the Knopf family). So I was actually relieved when some guys from the mail room asked me to take a photo with them. A few weeks later, Mr. President, I went back to the offices, and the guys in the mail room asked if I wanted to see my photo." I was really talking at warp speed here, feeling my time was about up, like I was about to be escorted from the building in mid-sentence.

"Mr. President, I walked into that mail room, and there were two photos on a bulletin board. A photo of me with the guys in the mail room?and a photo of you with those exact same guys. And Mr. President, you looked happier to be in that photo than I was."
Yes, there it was. Got it out. I looked at the President, hoping for a laugh, a chuckle, a smile, anything. Instead, I got this look of concentration, as his eyes narrowed slightly, still looking right at me.

"What was the name of the book," the President asked.
"It was called 'Tietam Brown', Mr. Presi?"

"I read it," the President said, smiling, pointing at me. "I read it and I enjoyed it."

I thought he might have. In 2003, I went to dinner with my English publisher, (different publishers for different countries) who told me that she had just left a party for Bill and Hillary Clinton to attend my dinner. "I'm sorry, she told the President," but I have to attend dinner with Mick Foley." She then told the President about the book I'd written, and said he seemed quit intrigued, even asking if he might get a copy.

By the way, that publisher was so beautiful, so sexy in that older, sophisticated way, that I though I was on to something when I read John Irving's novel "Until I Find You," where he wrote of a sexy, older publisher in England.

I wrote to Irving (a few years ago we were pretty regular pen pals until I folded under the pressure of writing grammatically correct letters to America's most beloved novelist) telling him I thought I knew the publisher of whom he wrote and that I felt the same way about her.
Irving wrote back, informing me that I was wrong, his publisher was purely fictional, but that he knew the woman of whom I wrote, and couldn't blame me for my sentiments.

Back to Bill.

I handed my envelope to President Clinton, telling him I'd written a check to his foundation; and that I admired all the great work he'd done in the developing world.

"Thank you" the President said, putting the envelope down, shaking my hand. "Please keep writing?you've got a real gift."

So I walked out, having spent over two hours on line - most of it in the slush, the snow and the cold. All for the sake of making eye-contact and sharing a story with a former President of the United States? Was it worth it? Absolutely.

Don't get me wrong - this was not a Tori Amos experience. No wish that I could save "Time in a Bottle," just to hold on to the memory. But I had enjoyed meeting him, enjoyed our brief conversation, and had learned quite a bit about dealing with people, just by watching him at work.

I had always hoped that wrestling fans (or fans of my books, or "Robot Wars" or some of my earlier adult film work) would feel that the time they spent waiting to see me was time well spent. That they wouldn't walk away from "A Hardcore Diaries" signing and say, "well that was a waste of time." So Bill Clinton helped me see the importance of looking everyone in the eye, offering a smile and a thank you on their way out. Still, there's no way I'm getting out of that chair.

About a week later, I received a letter in the mail from President Clinton, or at least from someone at his foundation. It was a thank you letter, but one that seemed to be typed on an old manual typewriter, and it addressed each specific point I had made in my letter. And it was signed by the President.
Now, I highly doubt that Bill Clinton actually wrote that letter. But someone did - and took the time to make me feel like the time I'd spent in line, was absolutely the most valuable way to spend that day.
About a month later, President Clinton made some dismissive comments regarding then Senator Obama's victory over his wife in the South Carolina primaries, instantly turning heel to a significant part of the country - even in my home. Wow, wrestlers wish they could get that type of heat with a single promo. He had a hell of a heel run, too; castigating reporters, complaining of unfair treatment regarding his wife.

Of course, all it took was one real good promo several months later, and all was forgiven; the sign of a consummate baby face.

Just one more way I can learn from the President.

PS: I'll be at San Diego Comicon--please look for a post very soon with my appearance info and I'll also be posting to facebook. Oh yeah, and guess who is joining Twitter? At last! Me! More info very soon!

Tags: Mick Foley, WWE