When Bill Clinton called into Eason's bookshop on O'Connell Street., Dublin, to sign copies of his autobiography, his past campaigning experience ensured it was the smoothest of operations.
Step 1: grab sweaty hand and briefly pump. Step 2: sign book. Step 3: stare meaningfully into eyes of fan. Repeat for several hours until hand gets sore or Bono calls to buy you lunch.
Around 1,500 Clinton fans were rewarded with that brief encounter yesterday morning but only after enduring heavy security presence and airport-style screening designed to catch anyone aiming to kill Bill.
Sometimes blushing, often giggling and occasionally overcome with emotion, mammies, daddies, business men, young women, teenagers and toddlers stepped up to a diet cola-sipping man waiting with a smile to sign their books.
Before meeting his public, he addressed the media for several minutes, lending support to John Kerry who, he said, would have a commitment to the peace process. "I believe that, in general, Kerry would be more interested in this because he has all his ties in Europe and because of the incredible interest in his home state of Massachusetts in the peace process," he said.
He denied people were interested in his €30 book because of his liaison with that woman.
"In New York they could find not one person in the queue who said they bought the book because of that," he claimed.
Having queued since 7.30 p.m. the night before, sisters Mary Lavin from Co Kildare and Kathleen Cunningham from Co Galway were the first to meet Clinton, who promptly called on the crowd to give the speechless women a round of applause for their patience.
The master self-publicist fed interesting angles to the media all morning, introducing us to Orla Daly, the 10-year-old born on the anniversary of the IRA ceasefire, and baby Chiara Paternostro, who was born seven weeks ago in Washington DC.
It soon transpired that just about every cliché ever used about Bill Clinton is true. While looking a bit older than you might expect, he really does light up the room and has a knack for making you feel you are the only person there. After rewarding her with the handshake and meaningful stare combo, he told this reporter he planned to do a spot of golf in the west after meeting the Taoiseach last night, and to travel on with his wife, Hillary, to Belfast and Enniskillen today. Asked about his daughter, Chelsea, he borrowed local parlance: "She's grand," he said. "I'm very proud of her."
Apart from irritating a handful of anti-abortion protesters, it seemed Bill Clinton could do no wrong. Only he could get away with wearing a leprechaun green golf shirt to his Dublin book signing. "It just seemed appropriate," he shrugged stopping short of saying "aw shucks" when the hundredth person complimented him on his attire.A young Dubliner called Gary had tears in his eyes after meeting him.
"I thanked him on behalf of my generation for everything he did for the peace process," he said.
Kill Bill? Canonise him, more like.
