Clinton prime candidate for TV show

NEW YORK — It's as if he were leaving "The Tonight Show'' after a fabulously successful run.

Don't look for Bette Midler to serenade President Clinton with "One For My Baby.'' But now that he has relinquished the office of Chief Host to George W. Bush, Clinton likely will be thinking the same thing Carson said at his own exit: "And so it has come to this.''

Of course, many voters believe Bush will do fine as president. And he may grow into the corresponding job of First Face. After all, he bears a passing resemblance to Carson himself, including that ramrod-straight bearing and cocksure, slightly mischievous air.

Yet to be determined: Will President Bush learn how to recover from a slip of his tongue as winningly as Carson bounced back when the monologue went flat? (If the campaign proved anything, it's that he'll get lots of practice.)

Also unknown: Whither the outgoing prez?

NBC said last month it had been pitched a television interview show with the soon-to-be-former president as host.

What a no-brainer! Clinton spent these past eight years finessing not one, but dual roles on TV: concerned, tender friend and Boomer bad boy. Somehow, he pulled it off, leaving in wonderment even those who hated his act.

Whatever else history concludes about Clinton, this much has never been in doubt: He is America's first true television president.

Not John F. Kennedy, whose looks and charm happened to lend themselves well to the TV medium his presidency fortified. And not Ronald Reagan, who carried forward into TV a beloved persona he had introduced elsewhere years before.

Clinton, by contrast, has a style born and bred in television.

This was clear as long ago as 1992, when Clinton won his first term in part by his masterly use of TV — whether it was sparring with talk-show host Phil Donahue or playing the saxophone on "The Arsenio Hall Show'' or rescuing his candidacy with an interview on "60 Minutes'' with wife Hillary Rodham Clinton at his side.

After one of that campaign season's televised debates, commentator Jeff Greenfield said Clinton "commanded the atmospherics.''

Under vastly different circumstances in August 1998, Clinton was fighting to save his presidency when he seated himself before a TV camera and began video testimony about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky.

Disembodied voices from independent counsel Kenneth Starr's team were heard hectoring their witness during the four-hour interrogation. But Clinton, on camera, with a man-of-the-people can of Diet Coke in reach, commanded the atmospherics.

Making the best of a lousy situation, he exhibited, by turns, remorse, indignation, pain, respectful obstinacy, and, of course, world-class hairsplitting ("It depends on what the meaning of 'is' is,'' he memorably replied to one question).

Who can forget the Democratic National Convention last summer, when a backstage camera tracked Clinton's purposeful stride to the podium as if he were a pro wrestling champ making his entrance into the ring?

The 22nd Amendment required Bill Clinton to fold his two-term video presidency.

But that doesn't mean he should ditch television. Now, at last, he could truly be himself (or is it himselves?), a TV star liberated from the pesky limitations of elected office.

He would be superb at conducting interviews, from Desmond Tutu to Eminem. And peerless at landing the big "gets.'' Who, with the possible exception of Ken Starr and Linda Tripp, would turn Clinton down?

"The Bill Clinton Show'' might feature time-tested recipes (for personal disaster, and for getting out of it).

There could be rock 'n' roll (Fleetwood Mac as house band?).

There should be comedy: a resident troupe (call them The Mighty Clinton Art Players) would poke good-natured fun at Republicans.

And maybe Al Gore could serve as Clinton's affably uptight sidekick.

As a special treat, Clinton could occasionally dig into tape archives of his speeches, town meetings and grand jury testimony — then add Pop-Up Video captions to display his thoughts.

What he said: "It depends on what the meaning of 'is' is.''

What he was thinking: "I wish I had a Big Mac to go with this Coke.''

Forget a presidential memoir or presidential library. It's time to launch "The Bill Clinton Show.'' Let the past eight years be just a prelude to greatness barely glimpsed by his audience up to now.

Can't you just see it? The curtains part in synch with Gore's hearty overture: "My fellow Americans, herrrrrre's Bubba!''

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