Donald Trump may or may not run for the White House, but he has already reached his preferred destination: the center of attention...."I'm Very Serious"
 |
| Photograph by Michele Asselin |
More than anything else, Donald Trump wants you to know that he is rich.
"Look, the news is that I'm much richer than everyone thinks," Trump says, possibly for the 11th time in one afternoon. "I'm worth more than $7 billion, with hundreds of millions in cash. That's after paying off mortgages, after buying airplanes … "
Trump thrives on an audience and a foil, and today, inside his Trump World Tower offices in New York City, he has both. He's sitting behind his desk, stacked with magazines and newspaper clippings about himself, discussing his proto-Presidential campaign whose sudden momentum seems to have surprised even him. His longtime chief financial officer, Allen Weisselberg, hovers nearby with a bunch of papers: a list of assets as of June 30, 2010, and a blue-bound report by the accounting firm WeiserMazars. "Each line's a different asset," Trump murmurs, running his finger down one of the pages, which lists categories such as residential properties, commercial properties, clubs, real estate licensing deals, and the Miss Universe Pageant, plus around $245 million in cash and equivalents. Then the papers are whisked away. "Most people think I'm worth two billion. They don't know." He adds, "You know, I don't even have mortgages." It turns out that he has at least one: Documents on file with the city of New York indicate there is a $160 million mortgage on 40 Wall Street, which Trump borrowed $10 million to buy in 1996.
Trump has spent years trying to bulldoze the world into believing that he is worth a great deal more than independent analyses have confirmed. He wants the doubters and the haters and the petty critics and the other real estate people to know that not only could he do a better job than President Obama—that, if he were in charge, he would kick China's and Saudi Arabia's butts and have jobs flowing back into the U.S. within months—but that he's been goddamn successful at business.
Throughout his career's wild ups and downs, the value of Trump's holdings has been estimated anywhere from negative $295 million in 1990 (according to data released that year by the New Jersey Casino Control Commission), to $150 million to $250 million (Timothy L. O'Brien in The New York Times in 2005), to $2.7 billion (the latest Forbes ranking). Trump is so obsessed with the public perception of his wealth that he sued O'Brien for defamation in 2006, charging him with damaging his reputation and costing him business opportunities by low-balling his net worth. (He requested $5 billion in damages; the suit was later dismissed.)
Several observers—from veteran pollster Frank Luntz to House Majority Leader Eric Cantor (R-Va.) and longtime Trump friend Larry King—believe he will never actually run for office because, per King, "It's just not Donald," or because it would require that he make public his tax returns. Trump insists that isn't a factor: "I wouldn't mind doing it because I have a great company," he says, "very little leverage, lots of cash and tremendous assets." He's toyed with the notion before, having contemplated a run as a Reform Party candidate in 1999 before pulling out a few weeks after the GOP Iowa Caucus. The final test will be if he formally files with the Federal Election Commission.
"You can call up the banks," Trump continues, tapping his finger on the page. "This is cash. This isn't bulls--t, this isn't, like, ribbons. This is cash."
A woman pops her head into the room. "Senator D'Amato … " she says.
Trump grabs the phone. "Senator Alfooonse! How're you?
"Another poll just came out! I'm doin' well, huh?" Trump oozes into the handset. "Absolutely. Go ahead. You know I know what I'm doing. Hey, did you see the poll? Go ahead … Let me tell ya, Al, I'm having fun. Have you seen the polls, Al? I'm No. 1. In the worst poll I'm No. 2 …
"I have a lot of cash … " he says. "Hey Al, they came in with a building last week, a building I wanted for two years, and I said, 'Who gives a f--k?' … Right? Who cares? No, I see what you're talking about. What did Koch say? No, he's come a long way. I like the guy. Even though he sort of f--ked me.
"I'm going to the Washington correspondents' dinner. That's going to be bedlam. You'll love that one … I love you. Thanks, Senator!"
Trump hangs up the phone. "He said, 'I've never seen anything like this in my life,' " he says. " 'Everybody thinks you're gonna win.' "
Here are a few things we know about Donald Trump: He likes to brag; he's an excellent salesman and a master brander, having put his name on condos, golf clubs, watches, chocolate, ties, and dozens of other products available for purchase at Macy's and elsewhere; he exaggerates as a strategic tool and a birthright. He has learned over time that if he says something often enough and is willing to ignore evidence to the contrary, eventually people will stop bothering to challenge him on matters ranging from his net worth to unsubstantiated claims about President Obama's citizenship—and, that if they do, he can brush them aside and bluff onward, making him the perfect avatar of the truthiness age.
For the past few weeks, he has been impossible to avoid, which is the way he likes it, for just as a shark needs to move, Donald Trump needs attention. And nothing—not splashing his name on buildings, dumping older wives for younger ones, writing books, starring in a hit TV show, The Apprentice, and decades of general ostentation, bluster, and outrageousness—has whipped up the kind of frenzy that his sudden coming-out as a birther and potential Republican Presidential candidate has. "Right now, if I wanted to make three calls, I could do all three networks live within twenty minutes," Trump says. "I mean, it's CRAZY what's going on."
What might have started out as a stunt to gin up ratings as his show grinds through its 11th season has led to a drumbeat of press suggesting that Trump might be semi-serious. As several polls came out putting Trump even or ahead of Mitt Romney, a familiar sense of intoxication washed over the popularizer of the phrase "You're Fired!" Suddenly, people were calling Trump, soliciting his thoughts on world peace and the global economy: What do you think about Libya, Mr. Trump? What are you going to do, Mr. Trump? "I'm very serious," Trump says repeatedly of his pre-campaign. The season finale of The Apprentice is on May 22; he promises a decision shortly thereafter.
So far, Trump has spoken to at least five Republican strategists in his search for political advice, including Tony Fabrizio and John McLaughlin. (Fabrizio, who recently worked with former Minnesota governor Tim Pawlenty and Florida governor Rick Scott, ultimately declined to work with Trump; McLaughlin has counseled many members of Congress as well as former Presidential candidates Steve Forbes and Fred Thompson.) Trump has also laid plans for appearances in key states such as New Hampshire and Nevada, which he planned to visit on Apr. 27 and 28, South Carolina on May 19, and Iowa in June. "He's a known commodity. You've got to think beyond the man to the larger brand," says Kellyanne Conway, a Republican pollster with whom Trump has also had talks. "He just seems to be able to say things and do things that no one else can." But, she adds, "My vote is, don't beat Obama on where he was born, beat him on where he's taken this country."...more
businessweek
No comments:
Post a Comment