It made for an entertaining hour. Romney was open and often charming, moderate to the point of being nonpartisan. He was even kind of funny. At one point, Romney tossed his arms over his head to mimic a deer in the headlights - his imitation of himself in his 1994 defeat by Ted Kennedy.
For not foreseeing his rise from the State House to, potentially, the White House, I shouldn’t, in truth, be so hard on myself. Romney has made a habit of getting in his own way.
First, there was the small matter of that gubernatorial campaign. His very best day was the one right before he declared. On the stump, he was, in a word, terrible - hollow and plastic in speeches and mannerisms. “How are you?’’ he would repeatedly ask, never waiting for a response.
There was one October campaign swing through Boston’s North End with Rudy Giuliani when a burly laborer in a crowded Mike’s Pastry called out “Let me buy you guys a cannoli.’’ Brilliant, I thought. The cameras would capture Romney with ricotta cheese on his strong chin, a man of the people. Then Romney called back, “No thanks, got to run,’’ as he headed for the door. He said it with that nervous smile, which was still frozen on his face when Giuliani said to the guy “Let me buy you the cannoli!’’ The place erupted in cheers.
Romney’s victory led to another invitation to that same study, where he was even more forthcoming and effusive than before. There were no aides. His wife had left ahead of him on vacation. It was just Mitt Romney, suddenly comfortable again in his own skin, talking about wanting to “do a better job for people who need government’s help.’’
At one point, he pulled out some mementos of his late father, George Romney, the automobile executive turned Michigan governor, and it became suddenly and explicitly clear how much it meant to fulfill this destiny. George Romney never got to be his party’s presidential nominee, despite high expectations, so you can only imagine what must be in Mitt Romney’s head today.
