“Screw it,” I announced. “We’re doing the cleanup tomorrow.”
“I am with you!” agreed my wife.
“So, Carl, what are you going to do after you win?” asked Junior.
“That assumes I’m going to win. Right now it’s too close to call,” I said, shrugging.
He snorted. “Have you ever lost at anything? You’re going to win!”
I laughed and looked at my wife. “Who are you voting for, me or Andy? Who’d you vote for in the primary?”
There were several astonished reactions around the group, since most people weren’t aware Marilyn was actually a Democrat. She immediately protested, “You, of course!”
“Okay, you get a Republican burger next time,” I told her, which got quite a few more laughs.
“How are you going to live in Washington?” asked Tessa.
I made a wry face at that. “No idea. Whenever I’ve gone there before, we usually stayed at the Hay-Adams, but I don’t think I can do that long term.”
It was John who said, “Get an apartment or buy a house. Something big. You’ll need to entertain occasionally.”
I nodded in understanding. “I’ve heard that.” I looked over at Marilyn who looked back, curiously. “Cocktail and dinner parties, etc, etc. If I win, we’ll have to buy a house down there. You don’t want an apartment, do you?”
“No. Does that mean we have to move!?”
“No. You mean, away from here? No way! I bet it’s close enough I can drive down, stay a night or two, and then drive back easily enough,” I told her. No way did I want to move!
Marilyn looked relieved at that. Then John said something interesting. “Why drive? Fly! It can’t be a half an hour by plane or helicopter. Go from Westminster right to downtown DC at National.”
I gaped at my old friend for a moment, and then turned to Marilyn. “You know, that might actually work! I might even be able to make it home for dinner some nights. Or you could bring the kids down occasionally. I know you hate driving.”
“You can drive, I’ll fly!”
Melanie Something-or-other, Junior’s fiancé, stared at us for a moment, and then she exclaimed. “You would fly back and forth to Washington from here!? That would cost a fortune!”
Some of the others laughed, since Melanie obviously didn’t know how much money I had. It was compounded when John added, “Sure, why not? You’ve been wanting to buy a jet for a few years now. This is a good excuse!”
“Give me a break! I am not buying a G3 — and you know that’s what we’d need anyway — just to fly fifty miles back and forth! We’d barely get the wheels up before we were landing again! That’s silly, even for me!”
John laughed at me, and Melanie gaped. “You’d buy an airplane?”
I just waved a hand. “Yes, but not to commute like that! For that trip I just need a Piper Cub on steroids.”
Junior asked, “So, what happens with the company after you leave? They’ll never let you run it and be a Congressman at the same time.”
“No, that won’t happen. I’ll still be the majority owner, but they can’t make me sell my shares.” I glanced over at John, who simply smiled and nodded back. “Okay, now’s as good a time as any. If I win, and right now that’s a damn big if, well, I’ve already talked it over with John and your Dad. If I win, you’ll be named Chairman, and Missy will be named President. John goes into semi-retirement as Chairman Emeritus, and your father stays as the Treasurer, and they still run around and smack your heads. You and Missy going to be able to get along that way?” I asked.
Junior nodded slowly, thinking about it. “We can live with that.” I raised an eyebrow the way he said it. “I’ve talked to Melissa about it. We thought we might get to run it. We just thought I’d be President and we’d make her the Executive VP, or something like that. We weren’t expecting John to leave, at least not right away…”
“I’m still here, you know. I’m not dead yet,” interjected John drily.
Jake Junior gave him a raspberry, and then said, “Anyway, we’ve talked it over, and we can make this work. I really think we need to open an office out in Silicon Valley, now. You’ve been handling that end of the business, but I think we’re going to have to hire a pro out there, maybe buy a small firm or something.”
I nodded in agreement. “Okay, start putting out some feelers. Get Missy cranking through her Rolodex. Talk to Dave Marquardt. Maybe he’d be interested in a joint venture, or if not, can help with names. Like I said, this is all a big if, but if it goes right, then we need to have something in place by the end of the year, no later.”
Melanie gave her fiancée a strange look. “I thought you said you worked at a brokerage.”
He smiled. “No, I said an investment firm. And I do work there. Now, vote the Buckman ticket, so I can run it, too.” He looked over at me and laughed. “You need a campaign contribution? Maybe something to push you over the top and move me into your office after you leave?”
“Funny, very funny!”
“Shut up, Carl! Take the check!” ordered Brew.
“Holy shit!” she muttered.
Chapter 102: The Westminster Diner
Wednesday, October 3, 1990
Political campaigns, at least in America, are designed to produce winners by wearing the participants down to a nub. The survivor gets elected. There comes a point where you have to wonder just how many hands can be shook, how many rubber chicken dinners do you have to eat, how many old people do you have to make nice to? It really helps to be rich, since doing all of those things and actually trying to earn a living are impossible. Early on you start wondering whether it’s all worth it. You start saying there just has to be a better way to pick a government!
America made a big mistake way back when we revolted against the British. Most people think it was in allowing slavery, but considering that half the colonies were slave states, we’d never have broken loose fighting that battle, then. The big mistake was that in our desire to rid ourselves of all things British, we got rid of a parliamentary system of government, and saddled ourselves with the mess we have now. Most Europeans look at how we elect our government and shake their heads in disbelief. When they hold elections, they just announce them and then everybody has six or eight weeks to make their bets and vote. Congressional and Senate races in America go for about a year, and Presidential races typically run at least two years, regardless of what the rule books state. It’s a miracle anything actually gets accomplished!
As you go through it, you really start thinking there has to be a better way to do things, because there can’t possibly be a worse way!
Wednesday, October 3, was supposed to be a relatively normal day. It was a long day. I started out with a few hours over at the office, mostly answering and returning phone calls and emails. The Sun had sent Fletcher Donaldson out to trail me around for a day, a day-in-the-life type of exercise. Brew and I shrugged our shoulders. The Sun still hadn’t gotten around to endorsing anybody and we didn’t dare to chance pissing them off. The Sun is a Baltimore City paper, but it’s read all across the state.
It was going to be a long day, with a radio interview in Westminster, two visits to old folks homes in Reisterstown (known as ‘senile silos’ in the business), a visit to a ladies book club in Taneytown, and then finishing up with a rubber chicken dinner and a speech at the American Legion hall in Westminster. Thursday and Friday I would get to repeat the process in Baltimore County. I just kept repeating to myself that I only had another month to go. We were still in a dead heat with Stewart.