Mitt Romney, we’ve just realized, is Walter Mitty.
He says he’s a longtime hunter, but has been on only two trips, one as a 15-year-old when he hunted rabbits, and then last year, when he “hunted” quail in what sounds like one of those places where they keep the birds in a cage until the rich guy, having been driven to the spot in a jeep, is ready to fire. One of those Dick Cheney shoots-his-friend-in-the-face arrangements.
Here are some other Romney claims:
He is a longtime pilot. On many occasions he has manufactured, and tossed, paper airplanes while making appropriate sound effects.
He has spent many years as a submarine captain. He loves to command the ship to surface amid heavy suds, and then attack the hapless and unwitting rubber duck.
He has been an astronaut. Though he hated those long lines at Space Mountain.
You’ve heard of Bowdlerized literature. This is called Romneyized personal history.
Or maybe: The Walter Mitty Strategy for winning the presidency.
Using The Romney Method, my years as a kid running around with a towel tied around my neck clearly qualifies me as Superman.