A Better Idea

LAST WEEK'S negotiations between representatives of Ronald Reagan and former President Gerald R. Ford to create a so-called Republican dream ticket--with Walter Cronkite as unofficial mediator--have generated volumes of information on the minute-by-minute intricacies of the process. The New York Times, The Washington Post and The Boston Globe all printed similar accounts of what happened, and The Chicago Sun-Times had a version all its own: "It's Reagan--and Ford," the front-page headline declared.

Midwestern aberrations aside, all those reports told us pretty much the same thing: Ford would have liked the number-two spot, but only if Reagan had promised to give the former chief executive everything except his first-born son (giving Ford his second son, would-be Nureyev Ron Jr., was always a part of the deal); when Reagan refused to sign over his soul, the dream faded.

But that is not the whole story, according to some highly placed sources who may or may not be reliable. It seems that Ford lost interest in being the Republicans' second banana (in title, anyway) after he received another offer--from President Carter.

Apparently Carter and wife Rosalynn were watching the Republican convention Wednesday night during all the hullabaloo about Ford. Shortly after CBS's Dan Rather announced knowingly that the deal had been struck, the notion of a different dream ticket entered Carter's mind. The president immediately picked up a phone and ordered the operator to get him Jerry Ford at the Detroit Plaza Hotel. "I'm going to get him first," Carter told his wife.

"Don't you think it might be embarrassing to have Ford as your vice president, Jimmy? I mean, he's clumsy, his wife Betsy used to drink alcohol and take mind-altering drugs, and his children are always getting themselves in a heap of trouble. Besides that, Jimmy, he's one of them."

"One of what?" Carter asked.

"A northerner."

As Rosalynn shuddered at the word, the phone rang. Carter picked it up and said, "Hello, Mr. Former President."

"Who's this?" mumbled Ford.

"This is Jimmy Carter. We met a few times back in 1976. I'm calling tonight to ask you to be my running mate, Mr. Former President."

Ford chuckled. "Well, you know, my wife Betty always tells me I should run, but I think it's kind of boring--swimming's for me. So I think you ought to get someone else. I hear that this George Bush runs a lot. Try him."

"Mr. Former President, let me try to make myself clearer. I think it's a shame for someone of your experience and expertise to sit around like some kind of elder statesman just acting wise, and so--"

Ford interrupted. "That's right. I've never been one to sit around. And I've certainly never been one to act wise."

Carter continued, "That's why I think it's time for you to return to public service as my vice presidential running mate, sir."

"Is this a crank call? Are you one of those Reagan people?" Ford bellowed. "Betty, someone else is asking me to be the vice president."

In the background, Carter could hear the former first lady say, "Maybe it's Walter Cronkite again, dear."

Exasperated, the president yelled into the phone, "This is Jimmy Carter. The president!"

Ford turned to Betty again and said, "He says he's the president."

Carter heard Mrs. Ford laugh. "Well, you know Walter. Things have gone to his head."

THIS IS NOT Walter Cronkite," the president insisted. "It's President Carter."

"Betty, he says he's President Carter. Do you know anyone by that name?"

"Well, dear, the last name is the same as that nice man you debated four years ago. You know, the one who thought Poland wasn't free," Mrs. Ford answered.

"Oh, now I remember," Ford said, speaking into the phone. "Hello, it's nice to hear from you again. What can I do for you?"

The president repeated, "I want you to be my vice president, Mr. Former President."

"Well, why didn't you say so. As you know, I have been negotiating with other prominent individuals--are you a prominent individual?"

"In a way," Carter responded.

"Good, then I'll make the same proposal to you I've made to the others. I get to make all cabinet appointments and ambassadorial selections. The entire White House staff will report to me. I am entitled to half of all gifts foreign officials give you, and I get to play in the White House elevator any time I want."

Carter pondered for a minute. "The part about the elevator is a little much, don't you think?"

"All right," Ford conceded. "But I have dibs on the toaster oven in the upstairs kitchen."

"Sounds good," Carter said. "Just one thing--what will I do?"

"That's right," Ford answered, "just one thing--light the Christmas tree. Come to think of it, though, I always enjoyed lighting the Christmas tree. You can decorate it."

Carter responded furiously. "That's going too far, Mr. Former President. Amy loves lighting that tree, and I'm not going to agree to anything that'll take that thrill away from her. The deal's off."

"Anything you say, Walter. But if you change your mind, give me a call."

Carter hung up the phone. "What'd he say, Jimmy?" Rosalynn asked.

"He wanted to light the Christmas tree. I told him no."

"Good for you, Jimmy. The next thing you know, he would have asked to use Amy's tree house."

"Rosalynn, who am I going to get now?"

"Well, Jimmy, you need to find someone who's not going to challenge your authority, someone who won't mind becoming a nobody who no one will pay attention to for four years, somebody with a low profile," Rosalynn said.

"I know," Carter said, picking up the phone. "Get me Richard Nixon."