I was at the 1976 Republican Convention in Kansas City. I was running ‘Nobody for President’ at the time. I printed up these press releases and handed them out to the crowd at the Kemper Arena. ‘Nobody keeps campaign promises.’ ‘Nobody lowers your taxes.’ ‘Nobody should have that much power.’ ‘Nobody is in Washington working for you.’
At Marshall Field in Chicago, I had them take a big bed into the menswear department, one with black sheets. I’d get in bed wearing a nightcap, and my fans would get in bed with me, one at a time, and I’d sign their memorabilia. And then I’d give them a free pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
I always say, dare to struggle, dare to grin.
We are all the same person trying to shake hands with our self.
I am in total ecstasy with where my life is now.
I became a clown when these docs came to the house in Berkeley and asked me to come cheer up kids. I’d just had my third spinal fusion and I was looking for something to take my mind off the pain I was in.
A clown I knew who was retiring from Ringling Brothers gave me his giant shoes, and somebody else made me a clown suit.
To let the people know there was life beyond Shirley Dean, we decided to focus on voter registration; each day I set up my card table somewhere in the district, signed people up, and passed out noses.
I’m related to the portrait painter George Romney.