"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Friday, July 1, 2011


We got some amused and confused comments about Mistress’s encounter with #42 (aka Bubba), back in the summer of 1988.

And while I know Sin and many others out there would have happily succumbed to his importuning, well, you had to be there.

First, keep in mind that this was the Bubba with out all the rough edges smoothed off. He’s the guy who had bored the crowd at the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta that summer with an endless homily to his own achievements, while supposedly nominating the Governor of Massachusetts for President. When he finally got to that last paragraph and proclaimed, “in conclusion”, the delegates erupted in spontaneous cheers.

He tried to redeem himself later that summer by appearing with Leno, and deploying his high school band saxophone skills for a national TV audience.

The man was no Clarence Clemons, god rest his soul.

So when Mistress, I and a good friend who was River City Mayor at the time encountered him here in River City at a reception for a group of other Democratic Governors, he was not exactly a celebrity in our eyes. More of a buffoon.

He was about 42 at the time. Molly was 25. I was 38.

His southern accent was far more pronounced than it was during his Presidential years, oozing unctuous ambition untempered with even a smidgen of humility.

As he deployed his folksy “charm”, a friend and I figured a way to sidle away from this boor, leaving poor Molly to appear interested as he droned on.

Later I got an earful at abandoning her to this redneck lothario.

.She described his assurance that while it was “Albert’s turn” (Gore) to be the “southern candidate” in 1988, he already was gearing up for 1992. Wouldn’t she like to be part of his vanguard of supporters here in the heartland?

That’s when he handed her that “Governor of Arkansas” card, scrawling his room number on the back with that little wink and broad smile we know so well all these years later.

Afterwards, we all got a laugh over his presumption. It was not until the Jennifer Flowers episode unfolded during the 1992 primary season that we realized that this was his typical modus operandi , and that in approaching the far more polished Molly, Bubba was clearly trying to extend his reach beyond the déclassé types that the Arkansas State Police helped deliver to hotel suites back in Little Rock.

AS Suzanne commented, I suspect Bubba went through quite a few business cards in his day. In fact, if Mistress had taken up the invitation that night, you have to wonder if there would have been a crowd control problem in the hotel hallway.

Of course, I realized then, and know all the more now, that I was the lucky one who got the girl that night.


Anonymous said...

you did have to be there. Bubba (from my POV) was simply NOT an appealing guy. I was most interested in my beloved Mick that night (with whomI was in the beginning days of having a sordid affair with). The boring speaker, then sax player and would-be POTUS did not do it for me. I have decent instincts, but was quite shocked at his later transformation.

beingaisha said...

Interesting story, Mick - and sweet comment, Molly!! Lucky Mick...