Voters forgive imperfections, but Mitt's perfections troubling

WASHINGTON — When a friend was writing a novel, he was concerned that his protagonist was too perfect.

People can't identify with perfection, he said. For the character to be sympathetic, he needs to have a flaw. He needs an injury or a wound of some sort so that people can identify with and care about him.

"Why don't you give him a limp?" I suggested, thinking of my own bum leg from a long-ago car accident. And thus, the character, an otherwise near-perfect man — good-looking, smart and talented — began to walk with a slight pause in his gait. To the reader, it was love at first limp.

Literature often reveals what life occludes, and the man with a limp provides clues to why people are so reluctant to support Mitt Romney despite his picture-perfect resume of skills and accomplishments. We keep hearing that he's "too perfect" and that so-called "ordinary Americans" can't identify with him. Indeed, there is something vaguely unfamiliar about Romney.

Handsome, rich and successful, he is happily married to a beautiful wife, father to five strapping sons and grandfather to many. At the end of a long day campaigning, his hair hasn't moved. His shirt is still unwrinkled and neatly tucked into pressed jeans. He goes to bed the same way he woke up — sober, uncaffeinated, seamless and smiling in spite of the invectives hurled in his direction.

What's wrong with this guy? Nada. Which is precisely the problem. Romney could use a limp.

In order to humanize him, helpful critics have suggested that he smile less during debates and try to show a little anger. Thanks to a new coach, he has become more aggressive and has begun punching back. Even so, audiences know instinctively that this is not the real Mitt. He's just not that mad, and why should he be?

He has earned enough money never to have to work again. His investments produce multiples of millions in barely taxable income. When he looks in the mirror, he gets to rest his eyes on a relentlessly handsome face.

For most everyday Americans, life is less tidy. Half have been or will be divorced. Someone in the family is an alcoholic or a drug user. Most can barely pay their bills and there's not much to look forward to. When most Americans of Romney's vintage look in the mirror, they see an overweight person they don't recognize.

The idea that they might put some of their investments in the Cayman Islands is so far beyond the realms of imagination and experience that Romney seems mostly a creature of fiction.