WHEN LIMBAUGH RETURNS, CAN WE EXPECT ANY CHANGE?

Rush Limbaugh's 30-day self-imposed exile is about to come to an end,
and if he returns immediately to the airways, it'll be interesting to
see -- hear -- if whatever recovery spa he went to made any difference.

Not in his political views, necessarily, but in his overall outlook,
his notorious lack of empathy for the benighted, the addicted, the
less than self-reliant.

In 1996 I spent a lot of time listening to and writing about Limbaugh
for my book, Campaign America '96: The View From the Couch. That year
I even watched him, since he had a cable television show overseen by
Roger Ailes, the current Fox News head honcho.

Back then, I thought Limbaugh an overweight overachiever. But what was
touching about him was his obvious, sweat-producing discomfort in the
company of powerful people. It appeared Limbaugh realized he was not
much more than hot air and was demonstrably ill at ease around those
who were truly accomplished.

Evidently, it was shortly after 1996 that his addiction to
pain-killers became a problem. "Back surgery" (though not all the time
he spent on the golf links) became the excuse. But as the years went
by, I did notice that Rush grew more and more content with his
success. He seemed to lose his hick-ish insecurity at not being all
that he was cracked up to be. He became more comfortable in his skin
- -- though now it is clear the comfort was pharmacologically induced.

Given the nature of Limbaugh's rants, his various attacks on elites,
one branch of medicine Rush wasn't going to seek out was
psychoanalysis. That's the sort of thing the targets of his scorn --
"feminazis," soccer ("sucker") moms, liberals -- would do. "Back
surgery" is still a manly hardship, not socially stigmatizing in
Rush's world as are psychological problems, feelings of inferiority.
So Rush had to self-medicate, recycling his expensive cigar boxes as
carriers of cash for parking lot pickups of shocking amounts of
prescription pain-killers.

Rush's two announced previous attempts to wring himself free of his
dependency were unsuccessful, neither long enough to handle any sort
of talk therapy that might have proved helpful. Rush's schtick has
always been an act. He was a natural for radio, as are a lot of
conceited introverts: He could talk and talk and not have to face
anyone, especially himself.

Although his former cable TV show's audience was handpicked, he was
never at ease in front of a group of strangers. His first appearance
in the early '90s as a network TV talk show host was a disaster (the
audience rebelled and Rush kicked the crowd out), as was his recent
short-lived stint on ESPN. Rush's biases are too visible on TV: He is
what you see.

But on the radio, Rush took his basic libertarian bent and coated it
with even more conservatism than his native middle Missouri upbringing
brought him naturally. His populist style was to become the
anti-intellectuals' intellectual. Added to that was his knack of
making common sense king. And Rush made the king mean. Americans enjoy
making fun of others. Nothing travels faster in this country than a
joke, most often one at someone else's expense.

Now Rush has become something of a joke. He joins William Bennett, the
master of morality and moderation in all things except gambling --
becoming the latest right-wing blowhard exposed for proclaiming, ''Do
as I say, not as I do.''

But people of goodwill can hope that Rush got some decent therapy
during the last 30 days, perhaps helping him to locate his inner
feminazi, the personal demons and insecurities that led him to take
more mood-altering drugs than many of his most ridiculed targets.

But 30 days might not be long enough to change his world view --
especially one that has been so profitable to him for more than a
decade. His drug abuse already may have robbed Limbaugh of his
hearing, and if its cure requires him to change his mind about a few
things -- both social and political -- he might end up losing his audience.