WASHINGTON -- IF YOU WANTED to be George W. Bush's running mate back in July. Imagine also that you were high enough on the list to warrant a full vetting of your past and a chat with the big guy himself.
One of the very first questions on the disclosure form presidential campaigns supply is always a simple, ''Have you ever been arrested?'' And another demands from those with military records the places and dates of every chunk of that service. In fact, an accounting for every month of your life (as with any job carrying a Top Secret clearance) would be required.
Now imagine further that instead of checking the yes or no boxes next to the first question you had scrawled ''not appropriate to answer.''
And imagine finally that the relentless Bush lawyers had picked apart your military record (in the National Guard) like crows on road kill, exposing white lies and big gaps like whether you did a lick of anything for the last year-and-a-half of your obligation and exactly how you leapt over 500-plus people in line at the height of the Vietnam War to get in the Guard in the first place.
When you see the man alone, you tell Bush that you and your advisers had made a conscious decision to withhold the fact of a drunken-driving conviction when you were 30 from the public. You say you had only acknowledged a heavy drinking problem in the past, and that while continuing to booze for a decade after the arrest you had quit completely 14 years ago.
You add that you had decided to dodge all details because you didn't want your twins to do what you did as a young person and thought the best course was not to tell them of anything you did. That also covered questions about drug use. You say that early on, when your possible nomination first surfaced, you had accommodated the press up to a point by denying any problem over the period that would be covered in a federal job application, but had declined to go any further.
On two important occasions, moreover, you had dodged this subject with reporters. The first time was four years ago, when you were suddenly dropped from jury duty on a drunken driving case. Back then, asked directly if you had ever been busted for driving drunk, you did a Clinton and said your record wasn't perfect as a ''youth.'' The second time, you denied to a reporter from a Dallas newspaper that you had ever been arrested; but you are certain there were no witnesses so you can deny now having said it.
As for the untruths and gaps in your National Guard record and even your resume and autobiography, you tell Bush that you've said all you're going to say before the election on this subject, that the records and your memory are hazy, but that you're certain your obligation had been fulfilled properly.
But there's more. To become the running mate, you have brought Bush two big suggestions for his campaign. The first is on Social Security. The idea is to confine a reform to six general principles and to withhold all details. Young workers may be attracted by the ideas of having investment accounts with some of the revenue that pays current benefits. But the best politics is to avoid until after the election any specifics on how the $1 trillion transition is to be paid for.
The second involves prescription drug insurance coverage for the elderly. As on Social Security, the opposition has a detailed proposal with benefits and costs; that's their tough luck. The best politics is to offer the general prospect of lots of choices to the general public, and a promise of funding immediate aid to the very poor through whichever states decide to offer any. But the key is to avoid until after the election all information about proposed benefits, premiums, etc.
So now imagine the unimaginable. Being a sharp pol, Bush tells you there's no way he'll continue considering you for any position of responsibility, based on your statements and record. The disclosures wouldn't stand the laugh test, and beyond that, while your life may now be exemplary and your past sins forgivable, consciously covering up the public record is not a trait worthy of a campaign based on the importance of personal responsibility.
But, amazingly, Bush then tells you the irony is that all of the above details apply to his life, too. The difference is that he's running for president and the same rules don't apply to him. Bush's test is whether his campaign is smart enough to dodge these bullets, not the bullets themselves. He does say, however, he loves the two issues ideas, and adopts them.
Bush said at officially homophobic Cornerstone University on Friday that he has made ''mistakes'' and learned from them. He said one job of a true leader to is ''share wisdom and share experiences.'' Thanks for sharing, governor.
Thomas Oliphant's e-mail address is oliphant@globe.com.
