TLIAW: Slippery When Wet
- Thread starter AnywhereButOTL
- Start date
Donald Reaver
Donor
I do not know enough about the delegate rules at a convention, but could she run herself for the nomination?
Nancy Reagan should be feared in general.
Indeed. I did some reading up on her for this TLIAW and was surprised by how dominant she was in Ronald Reagan's decision making. She hired a full time astrologer to determine which days were safe for public appearances after the 1981 assassination attempt. Apparently Bush wasn't a big fan of her, neither was Reagan's first Chief of Staff, who she forced to resign.
She also loved the color red, which I can agree with.
That is a possibility…
She could, but she won't, she's too concerned about her husband to spend the rest of the night in a convention hall without being able to visit him.
Thank you for reading.
11:50 A.M. Seattle Washington, July 14, 1980
John Anderson had been having brunch with a potential running mate when the news came in, and now he was writing a letter to the Reagans, expressing his sympathy for them and wishing Ron the best in his recovery. He wasn’t going to send it until he was absolutely sure that Ron wasn’t going to die, it would make him look like a real asshole if such a letter arrived at the home of a grieving widow.
He had been working hard lately to get his campaign off the ground, and though he felt vaguely guilty about potentially taking advantage of the incapacitation of a rival, he was really hoping that the Republican National Convention would fall into chaos. That would certainly give his numbers a boost.
“You think I should just avoid saying whether Ron is alive or not and write the letter that way?” He asked, glancing over to his guest for brunch. Patrick Lucey shrugged distractedly, reading a magazine with a picture of, fittingly enough, Ronald Reagan on it.
“Sure. How do you think Carter is gonna react?” Now it was Anderson’s turn to shrug. He crumpled the letter and tossed it overhand into his wastebasket before starting fresh. He had sometimes seen Mo Udall do the same thing when he had spoken to the man about legislation they both liked, and had picked up the habit, even if he wasn’t nearly as good as the ex-basketball player.
“Probably the same way you are. Sympathy for Nancy and whole lot of tweaking on how he’s gonna run his campaign.” That made sense. Anderson wondered who was going to take Reagan’s spot, the party had to recognize by now that nominating a man in a coma would be suicide…
“I bet they pick Bush.” He said as he wrote out the first few lines of the letter, making sure to emphasize how bad he felt for poor Ron, felled so close to his moment of glory. Truth be told he did feel bad for the man and hoped that he recovered, he didn’t dislike him, even if he had split the party specifically to run against him.
“That seems like a safe bet,” Lucey said, “I’d be happier if they chose Helms or one of those far right loons so that you’d have an easier time picking up the base.” Anderson shrugged.
“That could go either way. Most likely it would just hand Carter reelection.” Lucey flipped to a new page in his magazine.
“We’ll have to see how the convention goes.” Anderson got an envelope ready and folded the letter he had written. Lucey was right, there was no point in speculating until the dust had settled.
12:00 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
“They’re going to try to get her to pick one of the moderates...we’ll get denied again.” Jesse Helms felt twitchy and on edge as he walked through the crowd that had accumulated in the back rooms of the convention hall. He was walking with a good friend of his, Strom Thurmond of South Carolina, and both of them were not pleased with the news of what had befallen Reagan.
“Probably Bush or Baker...I couldn’t see them choosing Connally.” Thurmond said, and Helms nodded. He could see Bush and Baker standing near the back of the room, speaking with a small group of black suited men and security agents, no doubt plotting their way to the top of the food chain.
Two could play at that game…
“We need to combat that.” Helms said, the statement flat and determined. Thurmond smiled as he understood what Helms was meaning to do.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked, Helms nodded tightly.
“Even if I don’t win it’ll make sure that the party doesn’t forget the conservatives.” Thurmond had nothing to say about that and Helms decided to leave the back room. He had more important things to do than listen to the staffers yammer.
12:08 P.M. Washington D.C., July 14, 1980
John Connally had a quick lunch and then promptly dove back into the fray. As one of the top three people who had opposed Reagan (now that Anderson was off doing his own thing on the third party circuit), he had suddenly gained a great deal of importance, even if he was third behind Bush and Baker.
Bush had been gaining energy over the past hour as the realization set in that he would probably be the new nominee. Baker though didn’t seem ready to quit, even as the staffers told them about the negotiations that they would be undergoing with Nancy Reagan soon enough. The convention proper was slated to start at two, that was the latest back that they could push it without the delegates getting fed up and starting to do unforeseen things.
This meant that they had maybe an hour to make their case to Nancy as to who should be the nominee. The circumstances were unorthodox but Connally, strangely enough, wasn’t terribly perturbed by any of it. He wasn’t going to be endorsed, he knew that already, the best he could hope for was the promise of a cabinet position, and he was already on decent terms with Baker and Bush, the primary beneficiaries of Reagan’s accident. Unless Nancy decided to endorse somebody completely different then he would be set for the remainder of the electoral cycle.
“How are you holding up?” Connally realized that he’d been staring into space and gave Baker a thumbs up.
“I’m fine, just thinking.” Baker nodded and within moments had shuttled Connally out of the room, into a private corner.
“I think that Bush wants the presidency more than he’s letting on,” Baker said, “and he might fight if I get the endorsement. I want to know that you’re on my side if that happens.” Connally blinked, surprised. Baker mistook that surprise for him holding out and nodded to himself. “I understand why Nixon liked you so much. I’d be willing to give you your Treasury post back.” Connally found his voice. Treasury certainly sweetened the deal a hell of a lot.
“That’s very kind of you Howard. I don’t think that George wants to fight you though...” Baker shrugged.
“Just in case. What do you say?” Connally nodded, it really was a great deal, even if he would probably have to do some serious scrambling if Bush ended up with the endorsement. That didn’t seem very likely though.
Walking back out, a few moments removed from Baker, Connally nearly bumped into Ford. The former President looked healthy but not terribly happy.
“John,” Ford said, “hell of a convention we’ve got going here. I think the reporters are going to start storming in at any moment.” Connally chuckled.
“Probably. Any news from the hospital?” Ford shook his head.
“Ron’s still in surgery. He’ll be there for a while, until well after Nancy arrives.” Across the room somebody dropped a glass and Connally saw amber liquid scatter into the carpet, a half dozen people jumping back in an attempt to save their pant legs.
“Who do you think she’ll endorse?” Connally asked, Ford shrugged and ran a hand through his thinning hair. His scalp was slightly sunburnt and Connally supposed that he’d been out walking or hiking before coming to the convention.
“My educated guess is Bush...” Ford trailed off and then laughed.
“What is it?”
“I might have been Ron’s running mate if he hadn’t slipped. Funny how these things work sometimes.” Connally had heard little whispers about a similar deal but hadn’t assumed that it was real. Hearing it from Ford surprised him a little bit.
“Yeah,” he recalled his own failed campaign and the dirty tricks pulled on him by a certain Lee Atwater, “funny.” Connally looked across the room again, now somebody was on their knees dabbing at the wet patch of carpet where their drink had spilled.
“I’m having dinner with some friends at eight,” Ford said, handing Connally a card, looking at it he could see that it contained the name of a restaurant in the city, “you’re welcome to join us if you’d like to.” Connally nodded.
“I’d love to.” Ford grinned.
“Wonderful. I’ve got to go now, nice talking to you John.” Ford departed and Connally glanced back at Bush and Baker, studying them surreptitiously. Looking closer, he could see all sorts of underlying tensions now, Baker and Bush seemed to be sizing each other up whenever they spoke. Even the people they were chatting with had divided into two separate camps, one Baker, the other Bush.
He had sided with Baker, for better or for worse. Bush didn’t know about it, and considering the rivalry that they had cultivated on the campaign trail Connally didn’t think that he would be surprised.
At the same time, realistically, Connally supposed that nothing would come of it. Most everyone was predicting that Bush would be endorsed, which would set the stage for Baker to step aside and let Bush take the nomination. Connally wouldn’t get anything out of that, Bush certainly wouldn’t name him to his cabinet, but at least he’d be better friends with Howard Baker. That had to count for something.
John Anderson had been having brunch with a potential running mate when the news came in, and now he was writing a letter to the Reagans, expressing his sympathy for them and wishing Ron the best in his recovery. He wasn’t going to send it until he was absolutely sure that Ron wasn’t going to die, it would make him look like a real asshole if such a letter arrived at the home of a grieving widow.
He had been working hard lately to get his campaign off the ground, and though he felt vaguely guilty about potentially taking advantage of the incapacitation of a rival, he was really hoping that the Republican National Convention would fall into chaos. That would certainly give his numbers a boost.
“You think I should just avoid saying whether Ron is alive or not and write the letter that way?” He asked, glancing over to his guest for brunch. Patrick Lucey shrugged distractedly, reading a magazine with a picture of, fittingly enough, Ronald Reagan on it.
“Sure. How do you think Carter is gonna react?” Now it was Anderson’s turn to shrug. He crumpled the letter and tossed it overhand into his wastebasket before starting fresh. He had sometimes seen Mo Udall do the same thing when he had spoken to the man about legislation they both liked, and had picked up the habit, even if he wasn’t nearly as good as the ex-basketball player.
“Probably the same way you are. Sympathy for Nancy and whole lot of tweaking on how he’s gonna run his campaign.” That made sense. Anderson wondered who was going to take Reagan’s spot, the party had to recognize by now that nominating a man in a coma would be suicide…
“I bet they pick Bush.” He said as he wrote out the first few lines of the letter, making sure to emphasize how bad he felt for poor Ron, felled so close to his moment of glory. Truth be told he did feel bad for the man and hoped that he recovered, he didn’t dislike him, even if he had split the party specifically to run against him.
“That seems like a safe bet,” Lucey said, “I’d be happier if they chose Helms or one of those far right loons so that you’d have an easier time picking up the base.” Anderson shrugged.
“That could go either way. Most likely it would just hand Carter reelection.” Lucey flipped to a new page in his magazine.
“We’ll have to see how the convention goes.” Anderson got an envelope ready and folded the letter he had written. Lucey was right, there was no point in speculating until the dust had settled.
12:00 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
“They’re going to try to get her to pick one of the moderates...we’ll get denied again.” Jesse Helms felt twitchy and on edge as he walked through the crowd that had accumulated in the back rooms of the convention hall. He was walking with a good friend of his, Strom Thurmond of South Carolina, and both of them were not pleased with the news of what had befallen Reagan.
“Probably Bush or Baker...I couldn’t see them choosing Connally.” Thurmond said, and Helms nodded. He could see Bush and Baker standing near the back of the room, speaking with a small group of black suited men and security agents, no doubt plotting their way to the top of the food chain.
Two could play at that game…
“We need to combat that.” Helms said, the statement flat and determined. Thurmond smiled as he understood what Helms was meaning to do.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked, Helms nodded tightly.
“Even if I don’t win it’ll make sure that the party doesn’t forget the conservatives.” Thurmond had nothing to say about that and Helms decided to leave the back room. He had more important things to do than listen to the staffers yammer.
12:08 P.M. Washington D.C., July 14, 1980
John Connally had a quick lunch and then promptly dove back into the fray. As one of the top three people who had opposed Reagan (now that Anderson was off doing his own thing on the third party circuit), he had suddenly gained a great deal of importance, even if he was third behind Bush and Baker.
Bush had been gaining energy over the past hour as the realization set in that he would probably be the new nominee. Baker though didn’t seem ready to quit, even as the staffers told them about the negotiations that they would be undergoing with Nancy Reagan soon enough. The convention proper was slated to start at two, that was the latest back that they could push it without the delegates getting fed up and starting to do unforeseen things.
This meant that they had maybe an hour to make their case to Nancy as to who should be the nominee. The circumstances were unorthodox but Connally, strangely enough, wasn’t terribly perturbed by any of it. He wasn’t going to be endorsed, he knew that already, the best he could hope for was the promise of a cabinet position, and he was already on decent terms with Baker and Bush, the primary beneficiaries of Reagan’s accident. Unless Nancy decided to endorse somebody completely different then he would be set for the remainder of the electoral cycle.
“How are you holding up?” Connally realized that he’d been staring into space and gave Baker a thumbs up.
“I’m fine, just thinking.” Baker nodded and within moments had shuttled Connally out of the room, into a private corner.
“I think that Bush wants the presidency more than he’s letting on,” Baker said, “and he might fight if I get the endorsement. I want to know that you’re on my side if that happens.” Connally blinked, surprised. Baker mistook that surprise for him holding out and nodded to himself. “I understand why Nixon liked you so much. I’d be willing to give you your Treasury post back.” Connally found his voice. Treasury certainly sweetened the deal a hell of a lot.
“That’s very kind of you Howard. I don’t think that George wants to fight you though...” Baker shrugged.
“Just in case. What do you say?” Connally nodded, it really was a great deal, even if he would probably have to do some serious scrambling if Bush ended up with the endorsement. That didn’t seem very likely though.
Walking back out, a few moments removed from Baker, Connally nearly bumped into Ford. The former President looked healthy but not terribly happy.
“John,” Ford said, “hell of a convention we’ve got going here. I think the reporters are going to start storming in at any moment.” Connally chuckled.
“Probably. Any news from the hospital?” Ford shook his head.
“Ron’s still in surgery. He’ll be there for a while, until well after Nancy arrives.” Across the room somebody dropped a glass and Connally saw amber liquid scatter into the carpet, a half dozen people jumping back in an attempt to save their pant legs.
“Who do you think she’ll endorse?” Connally asked, Ford shrugged and ran a hand through his thinning hair. His scalp was slightly sunburnt and Connally supposed that he’d been out walking or hiking before coming to the convention.
“My educated guess is Bush...” Ford trailed off and then laughed.
“What is it?”
“I might have been Ron’s running mate if he hadn’t slipped. Funny how these things work sometimes.” Connally had heard little whispers about a similar deal but hadn’t assumed that it was real. Hearing it from Ford surprised him a little bit.
“Yeah,” he recalled his own failed campaign and the dirty tricks pulled on him by a certain Lee Atwater, “funny.” Connally looked across the room again, now somebody was on their knees dabbing at the wet patch of carpet where their drink had spilled.
“I’m having dinner with some friends at eight,” Ford said, handing Connally a card, looking at it he could see that it contained the name of a restaurant in the city, “you’re welcome to join us if you’d like to.” Connally nodded.
“I’d love to.” Ford grinned.
“Wonderful. I’ve got to go now, nice talking to you John.” Ford departed and Connally glanced back at Bush and Baker, studying them surreptitiously. Looking closer, he could see all sorts of underlying tensions now, Baker and Bush seemed to be sizing each other up whenever they spoke. Even the people they were chatting with had divided into two separate camps, one Baker, the other Bush.
He had sided with Baker, for better or for worse. Bush didn’t know about it, and considering the rivalry that they had cultivated on the campaign trail Connally didn’t think that he would be surprised.
At the same time, realistically, Connally supposed that nothing would come of it. Most everyone was predicting that Bush would be endorsed, which would set the stage for Baker to step aside and let Bush take the nomination. Connally wouldn’t get anything out of that, Bush certainly wouldn’t name him to his cabinet, but at least he’d be better friends with Howard Baker. That had to count for something.
@Tom Colton,
With you all the way.
@ABOTL,
You utterly, utterly mad bastard. You're going to do it aren't you? You realize of course this is going to make Uyghurstan in the Icarusverse look like a tea party for the Little Sisters of Mercy, right? The question is who's the reassuring Veep, because that's where the blood will *really* start to flow...
The early polling might even indicate there's a chance for victory. And then Carter might go big or go home with SNOWBIRD/HONEY BADGER (fun fact, besides the massive Nineties data dump on them from DoD I used to know the project's J-2 in his civilian life, if you want "local color") and life in the Middle East could get... even more interesting.
*walks off whistling tunes from a certain Andrew Lloyd-Weber musical*...
With you all the way.
@ABOTL,
You utterly, utterly mad bastard. You're going to do it aren't you? You realize of course this is going to make Uyghurstan in the Icarusverse look like a tea party for the Little Sisters of Mercy, right? The question is who's the reassuring Veep, because that's where the blood will *really* start to flow...
The early polling might even indicate there's a chance for victory. And then Carter might go big or go home with SNOWBIRD/HONEY BADGER (fun fact, besides the massive Nineties data dump on them from DoD I used to know the project's J-2 in his civilian life, if you want "local color") and life in the Middle East could get... even more interesting.
*walks off whistling tunes from a certain Andrew Lloyd-Weber musical*...
Digging the horserace. Was '80 the last time there was really a question of who the VP would be going into the convention?
I think they grew to bother each other during the 80 primaries, as tends to happen. But they have enough history to maybe snap out of it during a crisis like this. Connolly supposedly told Nixon he'd only serve in the Cabinet if Bush got a role too.
"Guess who's getting a second term, b*tches!"
That actually would be pretty hilarious, but there's no way AnywhereButOTL would be that cruel, right?
...right??
"Guess who's getting a second term, b*tches!"
That actually would be pretty hilarious, but there's no way AnywhereButOTL would be that cruel, right?
...right??
"You lost the candidate of your dreams, but you still have Carter. YOU ALL STILL HAVE CARTER!"
@Tom Colton,
Now, now. On policy there's a cat's cradle of issues where Baker and Carter were to the left or right of one another. Indeed the fact Baker was a moderate national Republican rather than a Southern-moderate Democrat was almost entirely due the accident of his being Tennesean, where the combination of his being integrationist and from East Tennessee guaranteed him, in those days, being a Republican -- before the Dixiecrats changed allegiance and shipped the water of moderation clean out of the state GOP. Where the advantage lies with Howard is that the gentle lawyer Baker was vastly better at handling Congress than the arch nuclear-engineer Carter.
Anyway, I think ABOTL is up to something infinitely more terrifying, and God help me I'm going to light a Ronson and wave it gleefully from the cheap seats...
Now, now. On policy there's a cat's cradle of issues where Baker and Carter were to the left or right of one another. Indeed the fact Baker was a moderate national Republican rather than a Southern-moderate Democrat was almost entirely due the accident of his being Tennesean, where the combination of his being integrationist and from East Tennessee guaranteed him, in those days, being a Republican -- before the Dixiecrats changed allegiance and shipped the water of moderation clean out of the state GOP. Where the advantage lies with Howard is that the gentle lawyer Baker was vastly better at handling Congress than the arch nuclear-engineer Carter.
Anyway, I think ABOTL is up to something infinitely more terrifying, and God help me I'm going to light a Ronson and wave it gleefully from the cheap seats...
Come on, America!
"Read my fingers - this is the number of f**ks I give."
President Baker does have a nice ring to it. But, as will be repeated somewhere between eighteen and four hundred seven thousand times in this TLIAW, 'we'll have to see what happens.'
A Dark Tower reference? I approve.
As for the Veep, I have no idea. I don't even know who the candidate is gonna be at this point. Things are still in the air.
Still in the air just like the ROCKET POWERED TRANSPORT PLANE that the military was planning on using to rescue the Iranian hostages. Jesus that is cool.
I believe so. I remember that Obama initially had some issues with selecting a running mate but he still ended up settling on Biden in plenty of time for the convention.
He did. Hence why he's siding with Baker rather than remaining neutral or even trying to make up with Bush.
They definitely have a rivalry, but it's not a full blown hatred of each other (for instance it doesn't come close to Bush's dislike of Rumsfeld or Connally's hatred of Atwater). They'd side with one another if it became necessary, and indeed they sort of did for a few minutes, but as soon as it became apparent that ultimate power might be seized by one of them (sort of) then their little impromptu alliance split apart.
"Guess who's getting a second term, b*tches!"
That actually would be pretty hilarious, but there's no way AnywhereButOTL would be that cruel, right?
...right??
I don't know. Is the guy who [ICARUSVERSE SPOILERS]saved RFK from assassination just to kill him later[ICARUSVERSE SPOILERS] really that mean spirited?
Big Carter is watching you. Big Carter loves you and you love Big Carter.
"He's history's greatest monster!"
Doubleplusbad comrade. The reeducation camps await.
It comes with a great 1980 campaign slogan -
Android Baseball is a great campaign slogan.
This is going to turn into a dystopia.
Nixon is going to pull something.
Nixon is pretty much only a voice on a phone. It's not like he's gonna crash through the ceiling of the convention hall riding a chariot borne by a pair of flaming horses or anything. That would just be silly. By silly I mean totally fucking awesome.
Thanks. And what can I say, the whole setup of the 1980 Republican convention was just too juicy to resist screwing with. If anything at all had happened to Reagan then things would have gone pear shaped almost instantly.
The Saturday Night Live skits coming out of that universe would be legendary.
Exactly. Baker has all sorts of experience with dealing with chaotic groups of people, which'll give him a bit of an advantage over Bush as soon as the convention really starts getting weird.
As for terrifying things…I don't really have anything that scary planned. I mean, you might see a President Jesse Helms, but that's sort of par for the course for the 1980s.