It seems this unlikely friendship blossomed after Bush 43 appointed his two predecessors to tour Asia together to promote relief efforts after last year’s tsunami. Given what one would assume was a pretty deep antipathy toward each other, it’s not surprising it took a tsunami to bring them together. Still, golf has a way of smoothing differences and building camaraderie. Maybe this thing will work out after all.
41: Bill. Like my new golf cart? Fast. No governor. Don’t tell Bar. Wouldn’t like it. Didn’t like skydiving. Says it’s dangerous. Hell. Nothing like being shot down in the war. Wet. Cold. Not Georgie. National Guard. Have a cigar? Don’t tell Bar.
42: Why, thanks. Not supposed to have them since that bypass thing, but what the hell, not supposed to do a lot of things ... heh, heh. ... Don’t tell Hillary.
41: Wouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Your shot. Tee it up. OK, hit another. OK, hit another. Last one. Really last one. My turn. OK, one more. My turn now. Front tees. Old. No more skydiving.
42: George, it’s awful nice of you to invite me up here. I really enjoy this retirement gig. Lots of golf, travel, fat speaking fees — why, I hardly ever get to see Hillary. I’m sure glad to be out of that White House fishbowl. I don’t ever want to go back. Hey, whoa! You just passed one of my balls.
41: Sorry. Back. Lost count. Old. Which one do you want to hit?
42: None of them. I’ll just toss one in the fairway over there by yours, if you don’t mind.
41: Spent your whole life tossing them into the fairway.
42: Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?
41: Balls. Fairways. Roll ’em. You know.
42: Why, George, you sound like you think I cheat. It’s only golf. We’re just out here to have some fun, right?
41: Golf. Metaphor for life. Hit it straight. Up and down. Count ’em all. Honor. Bobby Jones.
42: Well, OK, then, George. Didn’t realize you were so serious. I’ll just hit a few more warmup shots, then we can get down to it.
41: No!
42: But George, I’ve never played here bef —
41: Read my lips. No more Mulligans.
42: As I recall, that kind of ultimatum got you into trouble last time.
41: Not running now. Who cares? Hit it.
After the golf, these new best friends go for a ride in Bush’s speedboat.
42: Say, this is sweet. This baby can really go. How fast is she?
41: Don’t know. Three engines. Ten gallons per mile. Don’t tell Bar. She thinks we’re fishing.
One of the great things about America is that a couple of guys who didn’t get along all that well during their careers can still have a great time playing a little golf and going fishing.
Don’t tell Bar.
Fred Wolferman lives in Southern Pines.
