Sorry to disagree, but in my estimation, art and politics do not mix. Artists are idealists not pragmatists. Their strength, therefore, lies in their ability to comment upon government rather than to govern — to probe and prod those in power to act out of conscience rather than self-interest.

In 1968, would be poet and Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy ran for President in the Democratic primaries. Hailed by some for his poetry, he once remarked that the best way for an aspiring poet to get published was to run for president. In the political dogfight of '68 — a debacle that would decimate the Democratic Party for a generation — McCarthy succeeded in dividing the Democrats and pave the way for the resurrection of Richard Nixon. McCarthy ran again 1972 but dropped out early after a poor showing. In 1976, he ran as an independent receiving less than 1% of the vote. Ironically, in 1980, he endorsed Ronald Reagan. So much for artistic idealism in the political arena.

While Susanna Dakin's memoir on her foray into politics provides an interesting reflection on her personal journey, there is another book about to be published that offers a fresh look at grassroots politics in America. Bill Barich's "Long Way Home: On the Trail of Steinbeck’s America" (Walker & Company, New York, 240 pages) is due to hit the stores October 12th.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that Bill Barich and I first met in college, and share a passion for writing, travel and horseracing though not necessarily in that order. Always a keen observer of the passing scene, Barich served as a staff writer at The New Yorker for 15 years and is the author of a number of books, both fiction and non-fiction.

Throughout the long summer and fall of 2008 in the run-up to the election that pitted a self-proclaimed “maverick” American senator from Arizona against a Harvard educated black lawyer and political activist from Chicago, Barich, who makes his home in Dublin, returned from Ireland in the hope of rediscovering America. Inspired by John Steinbeck’s somewhat darker and more acerbic "Travels with Charley," a book which recounted that author’s 1960 trek on the eve of the election between Richard Nixon and John Fitzgerald Kennedy, Barich provides a firsthand portrait of who we have become in the nearly half century since.

Travel commentaries on the American experience have a long history beginning with Alexis de Tocqueville’s "Democracy in America" (1835/1840) whose description of our national character offers critical insights still valid today. In this same tradition such books as William Least Heat-Moon’s "Blue Highways" and more recently, Leo Damrosch’s "Tocqueville’s Discovery of America," are also worth the read.

In place of Charley, Steinbeck’s standard poodle, Barich travels with the ghost of Steinbeck, himself, while Walt Whitman, Henry Miller and variety of other literary spirits also make irregular guest appearances throughout the book. But while Steinbeck headed for Maine then drove along America’s northern border to the west coast before returning via a more southern route – essentially circumnavigating the country and covering some 10,000 miles – Barich travels along U.S. Route 50 as it bisects America, eventually accumulating a total of 5,943 miles east to west.

By conscious choice, Barich populates his book with American originals. Sidestepping Wall Street, he intentionally takes his time as he drives through the changing landscape, stopping to buy fresh produce and listen to the voices of all he encounters. What he discovers is a country that remains remarkably resilient. Times are tough. Yet people are unwilling to surrender their personal connection to the American Dream despite their hardships. From oyster fishermen on the Chesapeake to Midwestern farmers to a young Latina motel clerk in Victorville, California, who moonlights as a student at a local junior college, all cling to a belief in themselves.

Midway through, Barich writes: “If Steinbeck were around, I’d tell him a few things. I’m in a quandary about your prophesy, John, I’d begin – about that bleak vision of our future you articulated to Pascal Covici. One minute I’m convinced of its accuracy, and the next I think you were just angry because the country failed to live up to your romantic image of it… Our hope, as ever, lies with individuals. There are still heroes around striving for excellence and hoping to make something better of the nation. Certainly I’m as blind as the next optimist, but I believe we can solve the problems and go forward.” Barich’s portrait is an honest one in which the promise of e pluribus unum – “from many, one” – still seems as profound and prophetic as ever. Perhaps what we need is not an "artist for president" but an enlightened electorate that holds its representatives accountable. Government that works for the people instead of the moneyed self-interests.

Artists have always played great importance in the fabric of our lives, however they do not have the time to rule, nor use the left side of the brain, as governors must.

They must be free to either promote or degrade what the politician is up to promoting! They can paint beautiful flags, or show the President being lynched

especially in America. We have our censors, thank God, but what was condemned in art years ago, is now accepted, sometimes sorrowfully by many of us.

I doubt if Michaelangelo would be happy being Pope, when Julius ruled, and commissioned Michaelangelo to do many works. There are actors who are fine artists with oils. There were Justices who played the violin beautifully, and Truman played the piano passably. But, because an artist is not always rewarded for their works, and I dare say our Congressmen have given themselves big bonuses, that's why we have such sayings as "The Starving Artist." Politics and art shouldn't mix. Jack Grape, if some woman came out of the ocean in Venice Beach she may not be interested in men. Remember,

Aphrodite came from the foam of the god's genetalia. Oh, those Greek and Roman Statues were fantastic art, no? Actually, they were worshipped. Rulers need artists to create propaganda if nothing else. Oh, yes, let us not forget Nero, who thought he was magnificant actor and musician. Case closed.