There is disorder in communications within the White House though.
Yo, Sparky. Yeah, You Know Who You Are.
By BRUCE MCCALL
February 18, 2001
"He's our nicknamer in chief." — Newsweek
INSIDERS are admitting that President George W. Bush's penchant
for bestowing his own nicknames on close associates has provoked
the first crisis of his new administration.
"Internal communications are in turmoil," confesses a high-ranking Bush
aide known as Frenchy, though he doesn't know why.
"The president says get me Knuckles on the line, or where's The Eskimo, or let Bones
and uptown handle this," he laments, "and nobody has a clue as to who he's talking about."
Vice President Dick Cheney, a seasoned Bush handler, refuses to
confirm or deny reports that he plans an internal White House telephone
hot line where senior advisors, cabinet members and others can call in to
find out their current presidential nicknames and those of their colleagues.
But knowing who's actually who among themselves has become a
high-stakes guessing game for the Bush team members — as was
underscored by a recent trip to Kansas City by a bewildered secretary of
state, Gen. Colin L. Powell.
The president had ordered that Bullets be sent to represent the
administration at a town meeting on FARM SUBSIDIES. Assuming Bullets to
be Mr. Bush's informal name for the only ex-military figure among his top
aides, a member of the White House staff conveyed the word to General
Powell. He was halfway to Kansas City aboard Air Force One before the goof was revealed:
Bullets is the president's nickname for the secretary of agriculture, Ann M. Veneman.
Mr. Bush's response to the snafu was quoted as, "Why for heck's sake would I send Balloonfoot
to do Bullet's job?"
The first lady herself is reported to be "baffled" by her husband's
nickname for her. "I hung up five times yesterday when he called to ask
what was for dinner," said a flustered Laura Bush. "I thought it was a
wrong number when the guy kept asking for Stretch."
Meanwhile, President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia is reportedly both
baffled and incensed that on his first call to the new American president,
Mr. Bush addressed him not as Mr. President or Mr. Putin but Ostrich
Legs.
Mr. Cheney, who is said to believe his own Bush nickname to be either
Hopalong or Crash-Dive (signed presidential memos evidently differ),
has reportedly come to dread full cabinet meetings.
"When George W. starts with the `Good morning, Skeezix' and
`Let's ask The Undertaker," says one cabinet member, who thinks
he himself may be Spinach Man, "they all look over at Dick for help,
and he's as lost as they are.
And if Dick doesn't know who the president's talking to, who does?"
A White House nickname hot line, should Mr. Cheney set one up, would
be helpful but no panacea. High- ranking administration officials are still likely to
refuse the call when their secretaries announce it's The Pecos
Kid for Snooky.
Foreign leaders beyond nickname-hot- line range will
surely bridle at being called Nine Pin or Hound Dog by a fellow head of
state.
And what of Mr. Bush's intimate circle? One old friend returned as Not
Known At This Address a 50- pound shipment of Texas barbecue beef
bearing the presidential seal, addressed to "The Big Goober." His name is Darryl.
Compounding the confusion is Mr. Bush's creativity with sobriquets,
verging on free association.
"His nickname style isn't anything you can decode," points out a close
observer known only as Four- Eyes. "Like, say, calling tall guys Shorty
and right- handers Lefty. Why is Attorney General John Ashcroft Snake
Hips — or is that Rumsfeld? No, he's Pistol Pete.
Wait a minute, maybe Rumsfeld is Chickenman and Pistol Pete is Christie Whitman. Aw, I give up."
Asked by reporters about the impending nickname hot-line project, the
president himself expressed surprise at the idea and said he had no
information he was aware of.
"For that," he replied, "You'd have to talk to Stilts."
nytimes.com
Copyright 2001 The New York Times Company |
