"What's that?", he said, pointing to a small pot on the stove.
"Michigan Sauce."
"Which is?"
"It's sort of like chili. It's a family recipe from my wife's side of the family. If I actually told you what's in it, she'd have to kill you." He held up two fingers and I opened the package of hot dogs. I pulled out four and fired up the broiler. "Beer?" When he said yes, I pulled a couple of bottles of National Bohemian out of the refrigerator. "National Bohs. It's the last of them, though. Pabst is shutting down the brewery and going to tear it down. They'll still make it, but it won't be in Baltimore."
"Trying to prove you're a man of the people, Carl?"
I shrugged. "Trying to stay in office, if nothing else. It's pretty popular stuff back in Maryland."
"So, why'd you want to see me? It's not like there's a ball game on, so I can't sit back and pretend I'm at a stadium somewhere and have hot dogs and beer." George's biggest interest outside of politics was baseball.
"George, we're just a couple of fellows talking politics, you know, on background. What could be more innocent.", I answered. "You know, off the record."
His ears perked up at that. "Off the record?" On background and off the record were key phrases meaning that he couldn't use me as a source. "Okay, I'll play along."
"Well, let's just chat a bit first while we eat, and then we can go into my office. I have something for you." He gave a cautious nod, and I continued, "Hearing anything from the other people on the short list?"
"Is there a short list? I thought you were auditioning for the short list."
I smiled. "That would be the question, wouldn't it?" I had the beans on a burner, low, along with the Michigan Sauce. I rolled the franks on the broiler tray, and set some condiments on the kitchen island along with rolls. I grinned at him and commented, "It's a little less formal when we don't have a room full of politicians."
"I wouldn't have thought you to be a beans and franks kind of guy.", he replied.
"Marilyn and I are really very low key. We are simply middle class kids who got very, very lucky."
"And I can believe as much or as little of that as I want. So, what about the short list? Is there one?"
I shrugged elaborately. "Not that I can tell. Now, I don't know what you've been hearing, but you probably know more of the candidates then I do. The way it was put to me was that if my answers to the questionnaire were okay, I would go on the short list, and then George Bush would interview us and make a choice."
"That's what I've heard, too."
"Only nobody's being interviewed or being called back. What would that suggest to you? Bush's got between now and mid-July to make a pick."
"More like Cheney's got to make the pick. He's the head of the nomination committee."
"So again, what would that suggest to you?" The hot dogs were ready, so I pulled them out of the broiler and put them on buns. I set the pans of sauce and beans on hot mats and placed them on the island along with serving spoons. "Dig in."
We loaded up our plates, and George took a couple bites of his hot dog. He smiled and said, "This is pretty good. What's in it?"
I smiled back. "That's Top Secret, burn-before-reading and all that. If I told you, Marilyn would kill both you and me." I took another bite myself, and then said, "It's sort of like chili, only without the beans and peppers.
"It doesn't have the heat of chili."
I shook my head. "No, it doesn't. Different mix of spices."
"You were saying about Cheney?"
"Let me ask you a question. Who's smarter, George Bush or Dick Cheney?"
That got me a snort of laughter. "George got a Gentleman's C and thinks that's the same thing as a real C."
I nodded in wry agreement. "The smart one in that bunch is his brother Jeb."
"So, Dick Cheney is smarter than George Bush. So what?"
"So, he's a lot smarter. George has him running the selection process for his Vice President and also for his Cabinet. Who do you think is going to end up in these jobs? People owing their position to Bush or people owing Cheney?"
"Again, so what?"
"Okay, so what?" I paused a second and washed down some dinner with my beer. "So Dick is vetting all of us. What happens when he goes to George Bush and says that every one of us is fatally flawed and would be a complete disaster as a nominee. Every one of us would hurt the ticket. That nobody on the list can be used."
"That's pretty unlikely, Carl. There are some pretty qualified people on that list, and I'm not talking about you!", he replied.
"George, I'm still not sure why I'm there. The only thing I can think is that he wanted one Congressman to show he was being even handed or something, and he figured neither Hastert or DeLay would want the job. The question still stands, though. If none of us is qualified to be Vice President, who does that leave George Bush to choose?"
That caused Will's eyebrows to raise. "Are you suggesting Dick Cheney is going to recommend Dick Cheney as the Vice Presidential nominee?"
I smiled. "George! I suggest nothing! We're just two fellows having a light dinner and talking shop. If you were to ask around and find out I'm wrong, please, let me know."
We finished our meal and I set the plates in the kitchen sink. "You said you had something for me?"
"It's in my office." I led him out through the dining room into the foyer, and then down to my office.
He stepped inside and said, "So this is the infamous clubhouse? I don't think I've ever been in here before."
"You heard about the name?", I said with a laugh.
"What, the He-Man Democrat Haters' Club? I think we're both dating ourselves, Carl, when we say we know where that came from."
"Marilyn was never amused by that.", I admitted. I pointed him to an armchair and sat in a swivel chair near my desk. I reached into the desk and pulled out a manila envelope. "Here, take this. It's a blank copy for you."
"What is it?"
"Open it and find out."
George shrugged and opened the flap, and pulled out a copy of the questionnaire I had been given. It took him several minutes to work his way through the various pages, and then he looked up at me. "All of you had to provide this information?" I nodded. He looked through it a second time. "About the only thing he didn't ask was if you drank or used drugs."
"Considering George Bush's past history, that might not be a discussion they want to have." George Will pursed his lips at that, but didn't deny it. The Governor had already admitted to 'youthful indiscretions', including a drinking problem, and there were unanswered allegations of a heavy coke habit when he was younger.
"On the face of it, there is nothing here that a campaign wouldn't want to know about a prospect.", he commented.
"That is very true.", I agreed. "Still, at the level they are asking? And here's another couple of questions for you. First, has Dick Cheney had to fill this out? And who would do the vetting on him? And second, let's say that somebody is being considered for a Cabinet office and Dick doesn't want them there. What's to keep him from leaking something from the files he has collected to the New York Times and killing it off? Would you trust him?"