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gathering information. So the first thing they know is where you’ve been before, and whether you like
them. They were receiving reports about me all during that year that I was getting to know their
world. I want them to know how hard I’m working and that I’m not going away. I want the friends to
tell him, “Well, he seemed okay to me.”
Was the material you gathered during this year valuable?
Incredibly valuable. What amazes me is that most journalists won’t bother talking to the people
who love these guys. They only want to talk to the critics, or at the very least, people who have
political reservations about him. Journalists think, “What the hell is his sister going to say? She’s
going to say that he’s wonderful. Big goddamn deal!”
But they are missing the point. The important question is how is he wonderful! If you want to
understand how someone got to the point where he is a credible candidate for president of a nation of
250 million people, you’d better goddamn-well know how he is wonderful. But most journalists
don’t care about that.
Do you ask peripheral characters the same questions you ask central ones?
Absolutely. I pose the dumbest questions in the world. I would talk for six hours with some guy
who had given his life over to one of these candidates, or some woman who had been their girlfriend
in college. And I’d ask only one question: “What’s the good thing that he is getting out of all this?” I
just wanted to know that. But, hey, that’s a pretty big thing to know!
For instance, my researcher and I went out to dinner with Don Gephardt, Dick’s brother, and his
wife out on Long Island. We talked about everything : the mom thing, the dad, the house, the business
—it was like striking gold! And then we go back to the house and look at the family picture album! I
mean, please, it doesn’t get any better than this!
And while we’re driving back to their house I ask Don, “So have you been besieged by the press?”
And he said, “Well, the Long Island bureau of The New York Times called once. But that’s been about
it.” Now I personally knew 150 journalists who were doing Gephardt profiles—at a certain point,
everyone had to do one. And they didn’t call his only sibling? That astonished me.
The idea that a bozo like me could write a book after the billions of words that were written about
that election shows that something was wrong with the billions of words. Look, this is not a smart
guy’s business I’m in. A smart guy’s business is to prattle on every morning on CNBC. Those people
are very smart. But they can’t do what I do because they need to show you how smart they are. I
couldn’t care less whether the guy I’m interviewing thinks I’m smart. And it’s no act. I am so
confused when I am doing a story. I am so tormented by not knowing enough to write it. I don’t have
to pose at needing help.
Do you ever take notes?
Not at first. But after a while, when they say something really good I ask, “May I write that down?”