At ten the next morning, Thursday, I went over to the Hay-Adams and went up to the Governor’s suite. After going through the discreet magnetometer and being eyed by the Secret Service agent standing post at his door, I was allowed in and found myself with George Bush. It was just the two of us, and he led me to a small parlor and we seated ourselves in armchairs. “Thank you for coming, Congressman Buckman.”
“It’s my pleasure, Governor. Perhaps someday I can say, it’s my pleasure, Mister President.”
He smiled at that and nodded graciously. He might be a moron, but he knew the game when it came to being pleasant and making his guests feel welcome. “That’s very kind of you. I wanted to talk to you some more, and get a feel for how you think the campaign is going.”
“Really? I was under the impression that I would be playing no further part in the campaign. According to Fox News and some of the other outlets in favor of you, there is no question but that I would be a hindrance, not a help. I’m not sure I could be elected dog catcher according to them.”
He made a wry smile at that. “Perhaps you’ve heard the old prayer, ‘Lord, protect me from my friends. I can take care of my enemies myself!’ While I will grant you that a significant portion of my support comes from a more conservative element in the party, I do have to appeal to other groups as well. Not everybody agrees with that, but it is true.”
I made an accommodating gesture and nodded. Where was he going with this? “Well, of course, Governor, as the leader of the Party, you would have to reconcile different philosophies.” I smiled. “Consider it good practice for after the election, when you have to get the Democrats to go along with you!”
“Let’s hope so. Oh, by the way, is your wife really a Democrat?”
I laughed. “Very much so. Her parents are torn between their love of their daughter and their despair that she married out of the faith, so to speak. Then again, several of her brothers are Republicans also, so it gets spread around somewhat evenly.”
He laughed at this. He really was a consummate schmoozer. “You have a history of working across party lines as needed. You’ve been a leader in bipartisan legislation, and it’s my understanding that you are a major conduit between the parties when something quiet needs to be whispered back and forth.”
Was that what he wanted? He wanted me to whisper something to the Democrats? “It’s always been my experience that the best results, in either business or in politics, are those where both groups can smile at the end and feel they’ve come away a winner,” I explained. What did he want me to tell them, and to whom?
“Newt Gingrich told me that you warned him against the government shutdown. You told him it would be a mistake, and so would the impeachment.”
What in the world!? What was he asking me about Newt for?! “I consider Newt to be a friend and a mentor. I worked closely with him for many years. We simply disagreed on tactics, not strategy. We both wanted the same things.”
“Such as?” he asked.
“First and foremost was our desire to bring the budget under control. I know you agree with me that for forty years the Democrats have been treating the Treasury as a piggy bank to be raided at will. We have been buying things on the national credit card with no thought to how we would pay it back. Thanks to the Speaker’s leadership on this, we took back control of the House and the Senate, and were able to impose some serious financial constraints. The budget has been balanced for two years now, and should continue that way into the future.”
“Very true. I would think, though, that we’ve turned a corner now. A tax cut is in order, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked.
“Perhaps, but only if we can keep spending down. We must maintain at least a moderate surplus in order to pay down past debt.” Where was he going with this? Treasury? Budget Director? You needed a PhD in economics and finance experience for that sort of stuff.
“You also were the chief architect of the Contract with America.”
“Governor, I was just one of many people involved in that,” I protested.
“No false modesty. You came up with the idea, and then let Newt take control. Why was that?”
“Practicality. Nobody is going to pay attention to a junior Congressman. Everybody pays attention to Newt Gingrich!” We both laughed at that, but I still didn’t understand what was going on. There’s an old joke that if you’re in a poker game, and you can’t figure out who the chump is, it’s you. I was feeling very much the chump at the moment.
“Congressman, these are some of the compelling reasons you are being considered for the Vice Presidential nomination. Properly handled, these positions can play to the base of our party, while your bipartisan nature plays to the other voting blocs.”
I practically coughed up breakfast when he said the words ‘Vice Presidential.’ Still, I managed to keep my game face on, and simply looked at him curiously. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can, Governor.”
He smiled and said, “Do you know the difference between being involved in something, and being committed to it?” Of course I knew the answer, but I simply allowed him to continue. “Well, this morning, I had bacon and eggs for breakfast. Now, the chicken, she was involved in my breakfast, but the pig, he was committed!”
I dutifully laughed. “Well, Governor, you can count on my commitment, that’s for sure.” Commitment to what?
“I was hoping you would say that. You see, Congressman, it’s been very expensive getting to this point in my career. I mean, surely you can understand this, from your own experience.” What the hell?! Did he want a campaign contribution? I simply nodded in understanding and agreement. “Well, I would think a sign of that commitment might be a suitable contribution, no, an investment, in the future.”
The cheap bastard was hitting me up for money! I kept my emotions off my face. “I would think you’ve already picked up a substantial sum for the campaign, and it’s only going to increase.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the difference between being involved and being committed. I was thinking more along the lines of a personal commitment, man to man, as it were.”
Suddenly it hit me! Stripped of all the subtlety and innuendo, George W. Bush was proposing to sell me the Vice Presidency of the United States of America! I choked down my outrage, and leaned back in my seat. He kept his silence and simply watched me. There were no witnesses, no recorders. Who would credit such an outrageous charge?
It made sense, actually. The Bush family was wealthy, but it was all family money, which meant it was actually his father’s money. George had a few million on his own, but it was nowhere near the level of dear old Dad. He had probably netted about $15 to $20 million when he sold his chunk of the Texas Rangers, but his oil investments had been a bust.
What the hell did I say to this? My mind was zinging back and forth at the speed of light, or even faster! Was he so confident of winning the election he could skip the pretence of having a Vice Presidential pick who could help? As Vice President, I would be in an intimate position with one of the dumbest guys to ever make it to the Oval Office. At least, that was how I remembered him from my first run through. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was smart like a fox! It actually made sense, in a way. Cheney had been out of the government for eight years. How the hell did he really end up as Vice President? Did he know the difference between being involved and being committed? After years of running Halliburton he probably had the funds necessary. I couldn’t see any of the others with the funds sufficient to do this. Who else had he approached? McCain? He didn’t have the money, but his wife did. He would never go along with something like this! Was that the reason he despised George Bush so deeply? Or did George figure McCain would flap his yap and blow the deal?