Chapter Nine #2
With his feet propped on his desk and his tie loosened at the end of a long day, Nick tossed the football he’d been given at a recent fundraiser up in the air and caught it, then did it again.
“When Sam met with her team, she gave them a list of issues that’re close to her heart.
Most of them are also close to mine. Adoption, spinal cord injury research, infertility, learning disabilities and support for law enforcement, especially in the rancorous environment cops are working in these days as well as the very real need for vastly enhanced racial sensitivity training. ”
“All good causes worthy of the kind of attention you both could bring to them—and none of them are on Nelson’s list.”
Nick smiled at his friend and closest aide. He loved that his late best friend’s brother worked with him. Having Terry around had helped to fill some of the void John’s death had left in Nick’s life. Some but not all—John was simply irreplaceable. “Exactly,” he said.
“How do you want to proceed?”
“Get with Lilia in Sam’s office to coordinate our approach.
Make both of us available to groups that work in those areas.
This is something my lovely wife and I can do together, and you know how I’m all for anything that includes her.
I think it’ll make it easier for her to get involved if I am, too. ”
“No doubt.”
“I don’t want to do this the old-fashioned way, though.”
“What do you mean?”
The football went up and came back down. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s happened in the last year. I’ve gone from being John’s chief of staff to the Senate and now this. My head has finally begun to stop spinning, and I’ve come to a few realizations.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Terry said dryly.
“I’m the first of the next generation that’s going to run this country. I’m twenty-five years younger than Nelson, younger by decades than most of the people in Congress.”
“And this is news to you?”
“Not that so much as the opportunity to do things differently—to do things our way rather than their way.”
“How do you mean?”
“Social media for one thing. How many high-ranking officials manage their own Twitter and Facebook accounts? How many participate on Instagram?”
“So you want to start tweeting now?”
“Why not?”
“You’ve got a perfectly capable staff to do those things for you.”
“And they do a great job, but how much better would it be if I did it myself? If we made it known that every message from this office was from me and not a staffer?”
“You think you’ll have time for that?”
“All I’ve got is time. Nelson has given us the deep freeze, so let’s go forth on our own path. Besides, how long does it take to compose two-hundred-eighty characters?”
“Those two hundred-eighty characters can get you in a world of trouble if they aren’t done right.”
Nick waved off Terry’s concern. “You’re missing the point.
I want to get into trouble and stir things up and make a difference.
I want to get people thinking about things they aren’t concerned enough about.
I want to get the media reporting on what the VP is tweeting about today and how his Instagram profile has become a daily must-view. I want to be relevant.”
Terry’s pen flew over the pad on his lap as he took notes. “Okay, social media. What else?”
“Before we move on from social media, I want Trevor to set me up with a blog on Tumblr, and I want a YouTube channel. Everything I do needs to be posted there—every appearance, fundraiser, speech, etc. Maybe a few personal things, too, like hockey and baseball games with Scotty. The kind of stuff that shows that my life is like a lot of other people’s lives.
I can take those videos myself on my phone. ”
Terry eyed him skeptically for a long moment and then put pen to paper. “YouTube. Got it.”
“Even though I sort of grew up in Washington over these last fifteen years, I’m not of Washington, you know? I’m not an insider.”
Terry’s eyes went wide before he laughed. “If you’re not an insider, who is?”
“I’m talking about Lowell and growing up as the product of teenage parents who had better things to do than raise the son they never wanted.
Maybe I’ve become an insider, but I came from so far outside the Beltway it’s not even funny.
I want to show other kids out there who have no hope that there’s always hope, that they can aim as high as they want and never stop reaching until they get where they want to be.
Sometimes they can get to places they never dreamed of.
” He gestured to the well-appointed White House office to make his point.
“So you want to go into the schools and meet with kids?”
“As often as I can. Middle school and high school kids, in particular, the ones who pretend to be so cool on the outside when they’re filled with doubts and insecurities on the inside.”
Terry nodded in approval. “We can definitely make that happen.”
“I want the inner city kids. Particularly them.”
“Got it. What else?”
“Get me on TV—late night talk shows, the Daily Show and anything that’s hip and widely watched by the younger demographic. I want to be where they are.”
“You’ve been invited, literally, everywhere.”
“Start saying yes to some of them.”
“You’ll need to travel,” Terry said, knowing how much he hated being away from home, especially lately.
“Or,” Nick said with a grin, “they could come to me if they want me badly enough.”
“There is that.”
“See what you can do. Of course I’d go to New York if I were asked to host Saturday Night Live.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m totally serious. That’d be the ultimate.”
“Nelson would crap himself.”
“All the more reason to do it.”
Terry held up a stack of papers. “These are all the print interview requests you’ve received since you took office.”
“Pick out five of the edgier, less predictable requests, and I’ll choose three of them to start with. I don’t want to be on the cover of the high-brow intellectual magazines, but I might say yes to Rolling Stone, Spin, The Fader or XXL.”
“I haven’t even heard of those last two.”
“They’re both music industry publications, but they cover culture and other hot topics.”
“You’re very avant-garde, Mr. Vice President.”
“That’s the idea. If I’m the VP for Gen X and Y, then let’s go to where they are. I want to engage them in government and the running of their country. I want to hear their ideas and get them talking.” Nick caught the football and held it between both hands. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
“No, sir. I think you’re about to prove John Adams very, very wrong.”
Nick smiled, pleased to know that Terry approved of his plans. “That’s the idea.”