Enough with the '08 Presidential 'Buzz' Already

By Matt Taibbi, RollingStone.com. Posted November 15, 2006.

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Union Station, late Sunday evening. Arriving in town after a long train ride to do a post-election follow-up, I ducked into the men's room to wash my face before hailing a cab. As I propped my roller luggage against the tile wall and flicked on the faucet, I heard a voice -- to my surprise, since I'd thought the bathroom was empty.

"Hey," it said. "Hey, excuse me. I'm sorry. I know how this sounds, but do you have six dollars?"

I turned the faucet off and turned around. A dumpy-looking white man in a wrinkled pinstripe suit was standing with his hands clasped together outside the corner stall. His temples were moist and he had a lilac-colored tie with white flecks and a large coffee stain running down the middle yanked loose around his unbuttoned collar. Looking closer, I saw that there was a semi-coherently arranged pile of newspapers and brown bathroom paper towels on the stall floor; Mr. Pinstripe had apparently made a bed for the night.

"Six dollars?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "You see, my cousin was supposed to come with my train fare, but he didn't show up, and… well, I need to get to Trenton, and I'm six dollars short. If you give me your address, I can pay you--"

"What's your cousin's name?" I asked.

"My cousin?" he said. "Well, his name is, uh… his name is George. It's George. George Anderson."

"George Anderson, huh?" I said. "And what's your name?"

The man sighed. "Okay, buddy, look," he said. "I don't have a cousin. I just need some money. Can you give me six dollars or can't you?"

I frowned. "Wait a minute. Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Oh, God," the man in the suit said, shaking his head. "Yes, you might have seen me before."

"Hey, yeah," I said, snapping my fingers. "I saw you in USA Today, right?"

"Okay, you got me," he said. "I'm Tom Vilsack's buzz."

"Tom Vilsack? The Governor of Iowa?"

"Right."

"But you can't be Tom Vilsack," I said. "Tom Vilsack has no lips and a saggy neck and he looks like a roadie for a Lawrence Welk tribute band. But you're bald, for one thing, and--"

"No, no, you don't understand," the man snapped. "I'm not Tom Vilsack. I'm Tom Vilsack's buzz."

The bathroom was silent for a moment except for the dripping of the faucet.

"Impossible," I said finally. "Tom Vilsack has a buzz already? A 2008 buzz?"

"No, it's possible, believe me," the man said. "I'm him."

"But the midterm elections only ended like ten minutes ago!" I said. "Nobody can possibly have a buzz yet!"

"You couldn't be more wrong," he said, pulling out a wrinkled magazine from somewhere under his suit jacket. "Check out this week's Time. Here. Read the underlined section."

I took the magazine and read. "'Real Buzz Begins for Next White House Bids.'" I kept reading, then shook my head. "But this is all about McCain. Says he attended 346 events this year. Then there's a little bit about Biden, and Romney…"

"But it mentions Vilsack," the man said. "And here. Look, this is from the New York Post last week. Story's called ‘1st Up for '08 Gives Hill Fair Warning.’ Maggie Haberman says that announcing early 'generates some buzz' for Vilsack.' You hear that? I'm generated."

He held up the Post article, which was crudely ripped around the edges. I waved him off.

"I don't know," I said. "That doesn't mean anything. What does Joe Trippi say? You don't have a buzz without a Joe Trippi quote."

"Des Moines Register from the weekend," he said, clearing his throat and handing me the clip. He read: "'Joe Trippi, who managed Democrat Howard Dean's 2004 presidential campaign, said Vilsack generates a good buzz when he travels around the country.'"

I examined the article closely.

"Wow," I said. "Vilsack does have a buzz. Goddamn."

"That's what I'm telling you," he said. "So can I have that six dollars?"

He wrung his hands nervously in front of him, then scratched his nose. I noticed that he had a sore on the back of his left hand, which also had a piece of dirty gauze around the thumb.

"Wait a second," I said. "If you're Tom Vilsack's buzz, then what the hell are you doing sleeping in Union Station on a Sunday night? What's going on here?"

"Oh," he said, eyes darting left and right. "I'm not sleeping here."

I stared at him. "Bullshit," I said.

"Okay, well, fine, I am sleeping here! Jesus, you're tough," he said. "But it's just tonight. I had a little problem."

"What kind of problem?" I asked.

"Well, here's what happened," he said. "I was up on New York Avenue with Irving Kristol last night. We were trying to buy a couple of gelcaps from this guy named Hi-Top, who Irving knew. This Hi-Top, he tells us to meet him behind a Burger King up there, we bring the money, and he shows up, and all three of us get jumped by Rudy Giuliani's and Barack Obama's buzzes, these two big motherfuckers in black leather jackets. They take the money and the drugs and then they run away towards the Baltimore-Washington parkway. Irving says he saw them get into a blue Pontiac under the freeway. So he goes back to his car and says he thinks he knows where he can find them, and he tells me to go back to Union Station, wait for him here. He's all showing me his gun and everything, says he's going to fix those guys good. That was last night. Anyway, he hasn't showed up yet."

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Matt Taibbi is a writer for Rolling Stone.

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