Suit and dress shirt, Morgan’s own. Tie, Joseph Abboud ($98). Bloomingdale’s, 5300 Western Ave., Chevy Chase, 240-744-3700

 
  Suit, Dolce & Gabbana ($1,750). Saks Fifth Avenue Men’s Shop, Mazza Gallerie, 202-363-2059. Dress shirt, Morgan’s own. Polka-dot tie, Louis Vuitton ($205). The Collection at Chevy Chase, 301-656-1827

If I had any remaining illusions about the enormity of following Larry King at CNN, they were unceremoniously shattered as I watched his farewell show. A fulsome tribute from President Clinton. A salutation from California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. A trio of cheers from the main TV news anchors—Diane Sawyer, Brian Williams, and Katie Couric. And then this personal message from President Obama: “Larry, for 25 years, you’ve hosted a conversation between newsmakers and celebrities and the American people, from presidents and generals to Kermit the Frog and Joe from Tacoma. They say you only ask questions, but for generations of Americans, the answers to those questions have surprised us, they’ve informed us, and they’ve opened our eyes to the world beyond our living rooms.” In other words, proof that Larry’s place at the very heart of American news, politics, and current affairs was unparalleled.

But as the greatest of all James Bonds, Sean Connery, put it: “There is nothing like a challenge to bring out the best in man.” (Many Americans still think I am another 007, anyway: Pierce Brosnan.) So, neither shaken nor stirred, I assumed the 9 PM reins at CNN in January. It has been an extraordinary experience—not least because my arrival seemed to herald the most relentless run of big news stories in living memory: uprisings throughout the Middle East, a terrible earthquake and tsunami in Japan, the killing of Osama Bin Laden, and a devastating new financial crisis (not to mention the self-implosion of Charlie Sheen!).

What has been most fascinating, however, has been the opportunity to immerse myself in American politics. As the editor of two national newspapers in Britain for 11 years [the now-defunct News of the World and the Daily Mirror], I enjoyed a unique ringside seat at the court of Tony Blair. We shared 56 private one-on-one meetings in that time, often at the prime minister’s residence, 10 Downing Street. I had just as many sit-downs with his successor, Gordon Brown. So I am not exactly wet behind the ears when it comes to politics. But Washington is an altogether more frenzied, brutal, fascinating, and world-influencing cauldron than Westminster can ever dream of being.

Political Interviews with Heart (and Heat)
Sitting with some of the District’s key players, past and present, has enabled me to make some interesting discoveries. I was warned, for instance, that Condoleezza Rice, the first person I interviewed on the set of Piers Morgan Tonight, could be rather serious and dull. Nothing could be further from the truth. In one wonderfully enlightening exchange, she explained why she had never married (“As a nice Southern girl, I always expected to get married, and I’ve come close. But you don’t get married in the abstract; you find someone you want to be married to”) and then revealed that if we were on a hypothetical date, she would cook me fried chicken and gumbo at her home and let me watch football all night. I was instantly, to my bemusement, criticized for being too “personal” with the former secretary of state. Yet I found her answers made her sound considerably more human and likeable than anything she had said in previous interviews.

These attributes are massive vote-winners in an age where television is the king medium of communication. But you need an interview format that permits this to happen. For example, Donald Rumsfeld has never struck most people as the cuddly, romantic kind of politician. But who could fail to warm to a man who said his proudest achievement was his 56-year marriage—particularly when afterward, his delightful wife, Joyce, told me, in all sincerity, “I can’t think of a single thing about Donald that annoys me”? Love of a good family is an important weapon for an American politician. When I spent the day with New Jersey’s governor—and oft-rumored future presidential candidate—Chris Christie, it was the heartfelt support and candor of his wife and children that impressed people most. Similarly, when Mitt Romney brought his wife, Ann, out for the latter part of our interview, and she spoke movingly of how good he had been as a father to their five boys, through good times and bad, and as a husband through her battles with cancer and multiple sclerosis, I could almost hear new votes being clicked off through the television screen.