The day before the primary, he was flying upstate. Overnight, the U.S. Navy had shot up an Iranian oil platform -- retaliation for mines sown in the Persian Gulf. The press wanted to know: What did Dukakis think of the action in the Gulf? Michael was careful. He said he'd have to study the reports. He was seeking full information. . . . Then he walked down the aisle of his big new plane, to the bathroom in the rear -- one thing about these events: if you're the star, you never get a minute to pee. So he was trying to edge into the can, and the Reuters guy asked him again: "How 'bout the Gulf?" Dukakis just wanted to get by -- for God's sake, he had to pee! "Well, it, ahh, seemed like a measured response." So, of course, next stop, the Reuters guy filed . . . and everybody else went bullshit! Their desks wanted to know: "Why no Duke-react? Reuters has Duke-react!". . . . So on the plane, they were screaming: WHADDABOUT IRAN? And in front, Michael's wise guys were bawling him out: "Don't do that! don't go back there."

"I was going to the bathroom!"

They told him not to go to the bathroom.

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