The press staked out his mansion on both occasions, but never found his studio on this palm-fringed boulevard. He calls it his 'Southern Command', having spent most of his career broadcasting from New York, and describes it on air as 'heavily fortified', yet when you travel up in a lift and step into a glass and leather reception area, there isn't even a receptionist, let alone a security guard, just several white locked doors and a CCTV camera that follows you. There is also a bust of Beethoven, which has a plaque reading: 'A genius who produced masterpieces without hearing.' Limbaugh became almost completely deaf at the age of 50, but is able to hear callers now thanks to a cochlear implant – an electronic device which stimulates nerves in the inner ear.
The broadcast over, I join Limbaugh in the studio and ask if he ever has off days when he's not in the mood.
Though he can hear, thanks to the acoustics in here, he stares straight at me, lip-reading. When the Republicans won the House of Representatives in 1994 for only the second time in 50 years, they made Limbaugh an honorary member of Congress.
When Former Secretary of State Colin Powell announced a few days ago that he would be breaking with his party to vote for Obama, Limbaugh said it was only because he was black. He was being insulting, of course, on many levels, to both men, but at least he was being consistent with the Limbaugh world view, the view of the fabled 'angry white man'.
Indeed, it would have seemed hypocritical of him to start making compromises on the grounds of sensitivity at this stage in his career. He described the Republican candidate as a phony conservative and, when Sarah Palin first appeared, dismissed her as 'some babe Mc Cain met at a convention'.
In the corner of his studio he has a standard bearing a silky Stars and Stripes.