MARTIN F. NOLAN

VP timber gets taller

By Martin F. Nolan, Globe Staff, February 1, 1999

SAN FRANCISCO -- Three maxims true, with 2000 in view:

1. No one seriously runs for vice president; but . . .

2. Running for president is a nifty way to be chosen as a vice presidential running mate, which is helpful because . . .

3. Having been a VP candidate is an even niftier path to a presidential nomination.

These truisms would have astounded Alexander Throttlebottom, the character invented by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind for the Gershwin brothers' 1931 musical "Of Thee I Sing." Elected as the running mate to John P. Wintergreen, Throttlebottom "lives at 1448 Z Street . . . with the other boarders" and "sits around in the park and feeds the pigeons, and takes walks, and goes to the movies."

Today the nation's second banana inhabits a mansion in D.C., which Congress swiped from the Navy's top admiral 20 years ago. If the veep wants to feed pigeons, he can scatter seed from Air Force Two.

These trends do not mean that Bill Bradley will soon install a hoop on the winding driveway on Massachusetts Avenue or that John Kasich will forget his frequent-flier miles. But Bradley, the former New Jersey Democratic senator, and Kasich, the Buckeye budgetary whiz from Columbus, personify the post-Throttlebottom running mate: high-profile competence.

Since John F. Kennedy forged a Boston-to-Austin axis with Lyndon B. Johnson in 1960, it has also been bad form for a defeated rival to duck the dubious honor of being number two, no matter how eloquent the protest.

Two tentative candidates for president could be VP timber. Pete Wilson ran badly in 1995 and is not a beloved figure in California, but few doubt his competence as legislator, mayor, US senator, and governor. Elizabeth Dole has several Cabinet portfolios, star appeal, and first-mate campaigning experience in 1996. Even if she does not win most presidential primaries in 2000, performing well in them would make her a logical and emotional choice for veep.

Experience counts. In 1988, Michael Dukakis made mistakes in his presidential campaign, but choosing Lloyd Bentsen as his accomplice was not one of them. The tall Texan, then 67, did not deliver the 29 electoral votes of Texas but brought Senate credentials and his own experience as a White House aspirant in 1976. As Dukakis savored a swig of the JFK-LBJ elixir, he sought the same Lone Star legislative savvy that united Governor Franklin Roosevelt with one of his rivals in 1932, House Speaker John Nance Garner, the sage of Uvalde, Texas.

The worst question that can be asked about a vice presidential nominee is "Who?" George Bush, with his whimsical choice of Dan Quayle, did a disservice to the young senator from Indiana. Quayle, despite his stigmata of Throttlebottom jokes, is bright and shrewd enough to have become a serious presidential contender on his own. He's running for the top job now, trying to persuade voters that vindication is not his sole motive. That's unfair, but he did enjoy a comfortable four years in that big mansion.

The Throttlebottom gag relied on anonymity. "Th' prisidincy is th' highest office in th' gift iv th' people. Th' vice-prisidincy is th' next-highest an' th' lowest," Finley Peter Dunne's "Mr. Dooley" wrote 100 years ago. "It isn't a crime exactly. Ye can't be sint to jail f'r it, but it's a kind iv a disgrace. It's like writin' anonymous letters."

In "Of Thee I Sing," the only way Throttlebottom got inside the White House was on a public tour. Now he'd have a plush office there, because presidents treat vice presidents as peers and partners.

Since 1960, of the 13 VP candidates of the major parties, most sought the White House on their own before or after assuming their running mate chores, becoming household names. Quayle is the ninth such candidate. Usually well-informed sources hint that the 10th will be Al Gore.