The Nation: Guess Who?

The face is vaguely familiar, but the name . . . the name? “Do you know me?” he asks as the TV commercial begins.

“I ran for Vice President of the U.S. in ’64.” Of course, it’s — er — what’s-his-name, the guy that was clobbered with Goldwater. The pleasant man on-screen rambles on: “I shouldn’t have trouble charging a meal, should I? Well, I do.”

Then comes the spiel: “That’s why I carry an American Express card.” Not until the end of the bit does a computer clack out the name of the mystery man: William E. Miller.

The former U.S. Congressman and Goldwater running mate, who disappeared into obscurity and Lockport, N.Y., after the 1964 G.O.P. debacle, was picked by American Express as a log ical pitchman for its new advertising campaign. The theme: “American Express tells them who you are.”

Miller’s example sets the imagination to work matching other voices, other tunes. John Mitchell, in serape and sombrero, selling enchiladas — big enchiladas. John Dean promoting a memory course, Maurice Stans a detergent.

Or even: “My fellow Americans, tonight I want to tell you about a revolutionary new sound-recording system for your homes . . .”