The Naked Mayor

Largest Weekly Circulation In the Hamptons plus Special Manhattan Delivery
Issue #27 - September 25, 2009

The Naked Cowboy Won't Run For Mayor


From Dan Rattiner

Through the (place an adjetive here) mind of Peter




By Anderson Cooper
AC360° Anchorman

If you ever wanted a story that would show the importance of Secretary's Day, this is it. If it were not for Robert Burck's lack of appreciation for what secretaries do, we might have a naked cowboy running for the Mayor of New York.

Actually, it would not just be any naked cowboy. It would be THE Naked Cowboy, the strapping, six-foot, two-inch-tall man with the long blond hair, acoustic guitar, cowboy hat, high boots, underpants, guitar and little else, who hangs out in Times Square in that outfit every day and who, for a few bucks, will strum you a tune.

Back in July, Robert Burck, who is that Naked Cowboy, announced that he would be running for Mayor this November. He has a formidable resume for a naked cowboy. He has a degree in Political Science from the University of Cincinnati, his father was a councilman in Cincinnati and a campaign slogan that reads, "Never has anyone done more with less." It seemed to him that the City of New York would benefit from having The Naked Cowboy at the helm.


Robert Burck, The [Handsome] Naked Cowboy
Mr. Burck made speeches. He gave interviews. Then he began to get involved with the City's paperwork. "Somebody told me I would need to formally announce my candidacy," Mr. Burck told me, "I would need to fill out a form from the New York City Board of Elections. A friend of mine got such a form online and printed it out for me, I filled it out and sent it in." He figured that was that. A month later, on August 27, The Naked Cowboy heard back from the Board of Elections. "They told me that there were deficiencies in my paperwork," he said, "that I had filed past the deadline when it would be possible for my name to appear on the ballot." The Board of Elections told him that he could rectify this problem by going to a hearing on September 12 and discussing it with a their panel, but that he would have to fix the deficiencies first. "I needed to send in a birth certificate, a proof of residency and a government ID with my picture on it," he said. "I guess they wanted to make absolute sure I had not been born in Kenya and that I lived in New York, as opposed to being a resident in Nairobi."

Four days later, while he was working on this, he got a letter from the New York City Conflicts of Interest Board, which he didn't even know existed -- neither did I. "They told me," he said, "that they were assessing me a $250 fine for failing to file the Financial Disclosure Form, which is required when running for public office in the City of New York." Obviously, being on the salary made by a Naked Cowboy, he couldn't pay the fine and return it by certified mail, he had to come down to the New York City Conflicts of Interest Board and personally hand-deliver the money. They would only accept the fine if the Financial Disclosure Form was with it. If he did not do this he could be subject to a jail sentence. "A jail sentence!" He exclaimed in frustration and thought he had made the biggest mistake in his life.


The Naked Cowboy in Times Square
Mr. Burck, in this second foray into the political muck of the City, decided to fill out the Financial Disclosure Form and go down there himself, in costume nonetheless, with the required $250 that he managed to collect by working extra hours even when it poured heavy rain on Times Square. It was at this time when he contacted CNN to tell his story and in my company, and that of other reporters, we arrived at the New York City Conflicts of Interest Board offices on September 2. Mr. Burck, whom by this time we were all calling Bobby, said that he would feel less naked if we called him by his first name. Bobby appeared before the Board, obviously, in his regular garb, to show he meant business, but he added a tie around his naked neck which he asked me to tie the knot to. He told me he had seen me on one of those big screens that are so popular around Times Square and that he had noticed that, besides my sexy, tight, worn-out, gray T-shirt, he had also seen me sometimes in a suit and a tie, so he thought I could do him the favor of tie his now because he had "absolute no idea how one of those things work." I did my best to work backwards, facing him instead of my mirror; but my hands got sweaty and slippery, so I asked Rick Sanchez, who had also come to the event, to do the honors and he tied Bobby's aqua blue with white polka dots tie. He said he had bought it at Macy's for $5.99, we all chuckled.


Bobby had the check and the form, which he showed to reporters before handing it in, since, as he said, "It would be a public record that you would be able to look at anyway. It shows that my profession is 'traveling entertainer,' " and that he had a cash management account with Merrill Lynch with $500 in it, an I. R. A. from that same firm with $1,000 in it and that he makes between $8,500 and $9,000 a year. He also reports no loans outstanding, no trusts and no outside affiliations.

Two days later, The Naked Cowboy called me to tell me that, after giving all this brouhaha further thought, he had decided to hold another press conference to announce he was bowing out of the race.

"I'm dropping out," he told me. "The only way to be taken seriously in this town is to put on a suit and tie. You probably are aware of that, aren't you?" And that that's why Mayor Bloomberg looks like a mayor and he looks like a naked cowboy. "What I want to do is stick with what I do best," he said.

"Will you stop the $250 check you've written?" I asked him.

"No. They'd only fine me for something else -- maybe for stopping the check. The money spent was a lesson I learned," he said, "and a good one."

Asked for any final thoughts, he said this: "Politics is not fun and games; it is serious stuff." He paused. "My mind, like my body, is a little more naked and dreamy."

"The piece missing with all of this, of course, is a secretary," he said. "If I had one, I could get all those damn letters done, press a button, brush my blond hair out of my eyes and talk to him over the speaker phone. 'Alex, call the Board of Elections and the City Conflicts of Interest Board and straighten this out. Have it on my desk by tomorrow morning.' I'd say."

"When Secretary's Day comes," he continued, "whenever that is, I'll have to ask my secretary to pick up some flowers on his way to work to give to me, so I can give them to him. That's the way to get things done in the City that Never Sleeps."

"That's funny, that's the way I do it," I thought. "But I do it fully clothed." It escaped me out loud. Rick Sanchez gave me a funny look but he didn't say anything. We both left the building together in silence.

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Thank you very much to Dan Rattiner for a solid base story for my fictitious account of Anderson's reporting.

Naked Cowboy pictures are mine, of course, all other graphics are from "Dan's Papers" magazine/web site.