The vice president: Washington - satire of VP Al Gore

National Review, Sept 30, 1996

Dear Rusty,

It's been a heck of a week. In the first place, I'm still dealing with a lot of the emotional issues that have recently surfaced in my life -- things I've kept pretty well hidden deep in my heart. You know me, Rusty -- I'm a heart-on-my-sleeve kind of guy; I can't hide my emotions. And yet, somehow, some way, from 1988 to 1996 I campaigned in the South as a friend to the tobacco farmer, a supporter of the tobacco industry, a tobacco farmer myself -- all the while internally grieving for my sister who died of lung cancer in 1984.

Psychologists call it "delayed grief transference syndrome," and what it means, basically, is that sometimes it takes a big jolt to wake yourself up -- a jolt like realizing that Pennsylvania, Ohio, California, and Illinois don't have any tobacco farmers. You've got to look squarely at an electoral map before the healing can really begin.

And then we had the Dick Morris thing, which is really too sordid to go into here. Suffice it to say that it turns out that Morris had a girlfriend, a mistress, and an illegitimate daughter.

Lucky for us, Bill and HRC took it all pretty calmly. They go back a long way with Dick, so a lot of it probably didn't shock them.

Immediately after we got word that Dick had received a $2.5-million advance from Random House for his memoirs, HRC baked a big batch of brownies and made a giant homemade card that we all had to sign. "Congratulations, Dick! Our Little Boswell! With Best Wishes!" was emblazoned on the front. I'm sure Dick appreciated it, but under the circumstances, it was an odd gesture.

And later, I thought it was weird when they asked us to get on the phone with them last night, so we could all sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" to Dick. After we finished singing -- and there were a lot of us crowded around the phone: me, Tip, HRC, Bill, Leon Panetta, George Stephanopoulos, Bob Rubin, and Mike McCurry -- I made the mistake of wishing Dick a happy birthday. It turns out it wasn't his birthday after all. We were singing because, as HRC said, "It's Dick's favorite song." When I pointed out that my favorite song is "Do You Know Where You're Going To/Love Theme from 'Mahogany"' and that no one had ever sung it over the phone to me, all HRC said was, "You don't have a book contract." A few days later, Bill launched an attack on Iraq. And a few days after that, we had a 20-point lead!

The only problem is recapturing the House and Senate. In the first place, the pattern of retirements in the Senate is against us. And in the second place, the House races seem unlikely to be influenced by our campaign.

But can I be honest with you, Rusty? I'm not all that disappointed. I'm thinking a lot about the future, Rusty, and I've got to admit that future includes a run for the Presidency in '00, and when I called the Des Moines TraveLodge yesterday to reserve 25 rooms and the Corn Cob Convention Room for February '00, well, guess what? Dick Gephardt had already reserved them! Ditto the Granite State Motor Inn in Manchester, New Hampshire. So now I'm stuck with the Ottumwa SleepyDaze as my Iowa headquarters and the MinuteMan Zzzs-4-Less in New Hampshire. So excuse me if I don't break my neck campaigning for Speaker Gephardt.

Tonight, as we were all in the Oval Office coloring a big "We Love You, Dick!" banner, the conversation drifted to the latest Time magazine cover -- it features Dick and his wife looking glum and haggard. The banner we were working on was supposed to cheer them up. HRC was going to have the Marines fly it up to Connecticut in a C-class helicopter and then just sort of buzz around for a few hours with it flapping away. "If he gets writer's block or something he can just look up and see this happy banner and then maybe he'll want to write happy things," she said.

"Here's what I don't understand," I said. "He cheats on his wife, he humiliates her in public, he's famous for having no real scruples or steadfast beliefs, he's liberal when it suits him and conservative when it suits him . . . I mean, what can you do with a man like that? Why would you stay married to him?" Just then, Bill re-entered the room from another bombing raid. "Hey!" he cried happily. "We're up 26 points in California!" HRC looked at me. "That's why," she said. "Sometimes it's worth it." I'm not sure it is, Rusty. But then, my judgment is clouded. I'm still suffering delayed grief transference syndrome. I'm due in California tomorrow and it's coming on strong. Wish me the best.