smile, an acknowledgment that his views were now very old school, but they were also from a good school. “To quote my good friend, the forty-second president of the United States,” the Judge deadpanned in his best Clinton, “that depends upon what your definition of ‘rules’ is.”
Sally chuckled as did the Judge.
“So rules are relative in politics. You hit your opponent hard where he is weak and you pound away day after day. You might twist your opponent’s words out of context to get political mileage out of it. And if I could, I always liked to keep a surprise or two in my back pocket if I could to use the week before the election. All of that’s fair game,” the Judge said enthusiastically. “Guys like Ol’ Ed Rollins, Steve Schmidt, Jimmy Baker, Mary Matalin, Charlie Black, they were good people to go up against. They were patriots. They were Republicans that I could battle against and they would piss me off, oh my God, would they piss me off. But it was because they were good. I worked on Mondale’s campaign back in 1984, back when you were probably in elementary school.”
“Pre-school, actually,” Kennedy needled.
“Man, I’m getting old,” the Judge answered ruefully. “Well, in 1984, Fritz got his ass kicked. Of course, it’s the height of the Cold War and the president ran that ‘Bear in the Woods’ television spot. Have you seen that?”
“Sure, I saw it on YouTube when someone mentioned it a while back.”
“YouTube,” the Judge snorted and shook his head, acknowledging again how things had indeed changed. “Anyway. I remember calling Ed Rollins who was running the Reagan campaign a week before the election.”
“Before the election?”
“Oh hell yeah. It was over at that point, the only question was whether the Gipper would sweep everything or if we could at least hold onto Minnesota. So I called Ed and we laughed about that ad because it was brilliant. It really was and I had to tell him that. And it was good politics. Ed and his boys kicked our ass, but he did it with honor and integrity. Heath Connolly?” The Judge shook his head. “Connolly has no honor or integrity. I hate Rove. What he did to a good man in John McCain back in 2000 in South Carolina and then Max Cleland down in Georgia in 2002, a Vietnam Vet, a man who lost limbs in that war, engineering a campaign that questioned his patriotism, his commitment to protect this country, was reprehensible. It degraded the politics of our country and simply creates an environment where people like Heath Connolly flourish. He’s Karl Rove on steroids, EPO and HGH all at once. Connolly could give a shit about country.”
“But he wins,” Kennedy answered.
“And in the end I suppose that’s all that matters to lots of people,” the Judge answered. “Just not me. I’ll have to meet my maker someday. When I’m lying on my death bed, I want to know I did right. I don’t want to be like Lee Atwater, begging for forgiveness on my death bed for my sins against my fellow man when I’m dying. I want to go with a clear conscience knowing I did it the right way.”
“Connolly doesn’t have a conscience from what I can see.”
“Or a soul,” the Judge shook his head disgustedly. “He doesn’t care how you win, just win.” Dixon exhaled. “I think how you win matters.”
Sally nodded and looked down at the map and saw the Judge’s chicken scratch math off to the side of the map, with Ohio in Governor Thomson’s column, but Iowa, Wisconsin and Virginia flipped red. The election would end up 271 for the vice president and 267 for Governor Thomson. She’d done the math herself a few times already, running different scenarios on her notepad, assuming something was going on in the three key states.
“Judge?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find the answers. I’ve got faith.”
“In your boy?” Meaning Mac.
She nodded and then gave him a sly smile. “He likes to win too.”
* * *
Saturday afternoon on Water Street in Milwaukee meant it was time for Happy Hour drinks. As 4:00 p.m. disappeared in the rearview mirror, the bars along the avenue started to fill with partiers dressed in red looking to get tuned up for the football game. The Wisconsin Badgers would be playing the Minnesota Golden Gophers at 6:00 p.m. and the bar was starting to fill with Badger fans for the game; it looked like the Soviet Red Army