THE TALL AND SHORT OF IT

By CALVIN TRILLIN

On the day after Bob Dole announced his resignation from the Senate, he campaigned without his tie--although not, it should be said, without his cuff links. If that fails to convince voters that he's no longer a Washington insider, is it only a matter of time before he shows up in a red checked flannel shirt?

According to a recent article in the Washington Post by Jay Mathews, tactical moves of that sort by either candidate aren't likely to make much difference. Mathews says that in a presidential election the taller candidate almost always wins anyway. In the 11 presidential races of what he calls the television era, beginning in 1952, the shorter candidate won only twice.

If you apply Mathews' theory, Dole triumphed in the primaries because he was the tallest man in the race. Dick Lugar was the shortest.

On a personal level, I was relieved to read what Mathews has discovered about the electoral power of height. My father happened to believe strongly that any American boy could grow up to be President, and since I was the nearest American boy at hand, I am someone who, like Colin Powell, has faced a certain amount of presidential pressure.

I've always been open about the fact that, like Powell, I had trouble deciding whether to give it a whirl. For instance, at about the age of 12, I read that the President had returned to Washington to deal with the budget, and I announced that any job dealing with a budget was not for me.

I had a period of revived interest some years later when I realized the President could have any movie he wanted screened in the White House. That interest cooled when the availability of videocassettes made seeing any movie possible even for what Dole called "a private citizen, a Kansan, an American, just a man."

So I think I could describe myself as free of presidential fever--cured by the invention of the vcr. Still, in contemplative moments over the years, I did find myself wondering whether I would have been, as they say, electable. Now, thanks to Mathews' research, I know that I would have had almost precisely as much chance of winning as Michael Dukakis had.

I like to think that I wouldn't have agreed to that photo op that called for peering out of a tank hatch while wearing what looked like the helmet of a corporal in the wonk corps. But if height is truly destiny, I would have been skunked by George Bush anyway.

Aside from the peace of mind Mathews' research has brought me, I don't want to overemphasize its impact. This is, after all, an election between a candidate who has described himself as the comeback kid and a candidate who has described himself as someone who has always had to do everything the hard way. Neither is likely to let a small height disadvantage stop him.

Also, it isn't clear which candidate actually has the disadvantage. Unfortunately, Mathews, who otherwise was a real terrier in tracking down facts about height, couldn't come up with a definitive answer to the question of which 1996 candidate is taller. Dole is pretty certainly 6 ft. 2 in., but there seems to be some question about whether Clinton is 6 ft. 2 in. or 6 ft. 2 1/2 in.

The Republicans would point to Clinton's two different measurements as typical Clinton waffling, but the White House apparently treats them as the result of an honest difference of medical opinion. Either way, of course, we're talking a good six inches over Dukakis' height. I'm off the hook.