"Very cute." Still something seemed a touch different. I looked at her from different angles, and then it hit me. I grinned and said, "You colored your hair!" Marilyn had been starting to get a few gray strands, and they were now gone.
Marilyn's eyes opened wide! "No, no, I didn't!"
She looked way too guilty! "You did! I can tell! You did!" I started laughing, and it only got worse when she slugged me in the shoulder. That made me keep going. "Does the rug match the drapes?! Do the collars match the cuffs?!"
Marilyn shrieked at me loud enough to get the girls to come into the kitchen, and she tried to punch me a second time, so I wrapped her up in my arms as I kept laughing. Holly looked at her sister and said, "They're crazy!"
"They're weird!", replied Molly.
That made Marilyn start laughing, too. At that time I was informed that I wouldn't be seeing any collars, cuffs, rugs, or drapes for the rest of my life, which just kept me laughing. I just had to keep going, though. "Did you guys go shopping for new glasses?" Marilyn is nearsighted. It hit me when I was 18, but before I ever met her. She had never known me when I didn't wear glasses. For my wife, however, it had started in her early 30s, and was now to the point where she needed glasses to be able to watch television or see a movie. Since she refused to admit to her vision problems, and refused to wear her glasses, she was constantly squinting or trying to fake it.
"NO!" She smacked me again, and started me laughing some more.
I retaliated by wrapping her up again in my arms, and this time I managed to pull her skirt high enough that I could feel the tops of her stockings. "Want me to find out if you're going commando?"
She laughed. "Later, and if you don't start behaving yourself, never!"
"Since when did you want me to behave myself?" I pinched her ass and then let her go and poured the wine. Marilyn blushed at that. "Any chance you guys did some shopping at Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood?" That got an even bigger blush as a response.
With Marilyn trying to match Donna Rymark in the style department (although she would never be able to match her in height) our other big thrust was going to be somehow publicly distancing myself from Newt Gingrich. We had to paint him as an out of touch demagogue who had lured me astray, but now I was back on the path of goodness and righteousness. This left a sour taste in my mouth. I had known full well what I was doing when I helped to oust the Democrats, and I firmly believed that the elements of the Contract with America were for the good of all of us.
The one thing I agreed with, though, was that Newt was nowhere near done with his feud with Bill Clinton. I knew he was going after Slick Willie on every front he could, and in the most over the top fashion possible. For one thing, Monica Lewinsky was already working at the White House as an intern. I had seen her in passing once, and almost did a double take when I realized who she was. Pretty girl, I suppose, though more than a bit chunky for my taste. On the other hand, I like curvy brunettes, and if she had lost about twenty or thirty pounds around the midsection even I might have been tempted. Maybe she just gave great head! Clinton couldn't keep his dick in his pants if you sewed the zipper shut, and no matter what I did in the here and now, Newt was going to hammer him on it.
In other areas, Clinton was equally vulnerable. On the personal side, Ken Starr was already investigating the Clintons about their Whitewater Development investment, and this was just going to dive deeper and deeper into their messy and complicated financial affairs. On the public side, there was the controversy about the White House Travel Office, improper access to various FBI files, and already some glimmerings of various espionage scandals involving Chinese businessmen with ties to Beijing. I told Marilyn that he was a great politician but I wouldn't let him in the front door of the house, and I wouldn't leave her or the kids alone with him. I'd make him come in through the utility room, and then wash my hands after shaking his.
All this meant that Gingrich had plenty of fuel to build a fire under the man, and he had no intention of not lighting the match.
What did it mean for me? No matter what my personal thoughts, I couldn't be seen being petty. If Newt started pushing on Clinton's marital infidelities or his pot smoking or draft dodging, I couldn't allow myself to be drawn into it. I had to stand back and maintain a statesmanlike attitude. Some of it I didn't care about (smoking marijuana) and some didn't apply to me (my zipper was firmly closed, thank you very much, but Newt was a well known womanizer; the pot was calling the kettle black) and some I just didn't want to touch (I served, but nothing good would come of me going after Clinton; better to just behave myself when asked about it.)
There was one way to differentiate myself from Rymark, though, and that was to push myself as a leader. Every politician worth his salt tells the voters he is going to be a leader, but damn few ever really are. In my case, I could point to legislation I had sponsored or co-sponsored, and the Contract with America, and say, 'Like it or not, you have elected a leader of Congress. Do you want a leader, or not?' I was going to have to run on my record, such as it was.
More than a few moments for this occurred during the election season. The President had signed the new version of the Defending the Second Amendment Act into law in November. Almost all laws have some form of waiting period, typically 90 days or more, before the law kicks in. This period allows the states to take measures to put the law into effect. For instance, if we passed a law requiring the states to inspect school cafeterias (just for example; they do it already anyhow) the delay allows the states to write the rules, hire a few inspectors, print up inspection forms, and so forth. In the case of D2A, the law went into effect on February 20, 1996, the day after President's Day.
The new law was, to put it mildly, controversial in Maryland. It proved popular with large portions of the public, but not with the higher ups in the State Attorneys' offices or the Maryland Attorney General, or with upper ranks of the State Police. It was surprisingly popular in Baltimore itself, which is very black and very Democratic, but when you thought about it, you realized most violence in the black community is from other blacks. Regardless, Rymark was publicly against the law, and the Attorney General for Maryland had vowed to sue, all the way up to the Supreme Court, to have it overturned.
That gave us an opportunity for some showmanship. The current Attorney General was Joe Curren, a long time political powerhouse with a history of supporting gun control laws. He was so anti-D2A that he had ignored the 90 day requirement to prepare for 'shall issue' concealed weapon carry permits. He simply said that Maryland was going to ignore the law, and deny all permits and refuse to accept out of state permits, just like before. I got together with John Thomas and Brewster McRiley, and we decided to fight fire with fire. We announced publicly that I would be traveling to Baltimore on February 20 and would apply in person for my Federally approved gun permit. Curren took the bait, and responded on the evening news that he would be on hand to personally deny the permit, and if I were to actually have a concealed weapon on my person, he would order me arrested on the spot!
We got a permit application and filled it out. Then we did something that I didn't think Curren was expecting – we hired a lawyer. Not just any lawyer, either, but David Boies, a partner at Cravath, Swain, and Moore, one of the most preeminent attorneys in the country. He had fought a bunch of high profile cases, sometimes defending and sometimes attacking, but almost always winning. He was going to cost us a fortune, so we had the American Renaissance Initiative foot the bill. At that point Wayne LaPierre and the NRA weighed in, wanting to contribute and get their name attached. I called Wayne and told him in no uncertain terms that the NRA was about as popular in Maryland as a ham and cheese sandwich in Jerusalem, and that if he wanted this to go through, to back off and shut up. He blustered at that and threatened to pull any funding from my campaign, but it was a hollow threat, since he had never donated dollar one.