Taft 2012
BLOGS & GROUPS
    Mid-Atlantic—coordinator: Allen Holtz, [email protected]
    Midwest—coordinator: Frank Lommel, [email protected]
    South—coordinator: Rev. Todd Osborne, [email protected]
    Southwest—coordinator: Linda Beach, [email protected]
    Northwest—coordinator: Matt Shelby, [email protected]
    New England—coordinator: Victoria Eldridge, [email protected]
    MORE INFO
    About William Howard Taft— taft2012.com/taft
    How to participate— taft2012.com/community
    Signs, buttons, shirts & more— taft2012.com/store
    Support the Taft Party USA— taft2012.com/donate

TWELVE
    “T aft Party? How can they presume to call themselves the Taft Party when
we
are the Tafts?”
    Taft fidgeted furiously in the middle seat of Rachel’s van, wishing by all that was holy that a ham sandwich were to be had as they drove down the highway back to D.C. Susan dozed in the back seat while, up front, Rachel poked intensely at her phone.
    “Grandpa,” she said, “I think you might be surprised by some of these blogs. I mean, I don’t agree with everything they’re saying, but they seem sincere. Some of them, well, they almost make sense.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, some of these people are just disgruntled voters looking for something new to rally around, but some of them sound like they’ve really studied your administration. I’m not the expert that Susan is on the fine points of all your old issues and policies, but it looks to me like a bunch of these Tafties know their stuff. God, I can’t believe they call themselves Tafties.”
    Taft scowled harder. “And what does my administration haveto do with anything America worries about in this day and age? I had no policy positions on your trillion-dollar national debt, on your nuclear and chemical warfare, on regulating your seven hundred broadcasting channels of television and Internet and cell phones and God only knows what else I don’t know about yet.”
    “No,” said Rachel, looking over her shoulder, “but these people know
you
. I mean, obviously they don’t
know
you, but I’m kind of impressed at how thoroughly they’re trying.” She stared at the screen on her phone. “It looks like they’re skipping over a lot of the more controversial things from your presidency, over the points that are a little too dated to translate well today. But the gist of it is there: conservative yet forward-thinking, pro-business yet proregulation, principled yet open to compromise. It’s like America has been led to believe for so long that these are polarized ideas, ones that can’t possibly be reconciled, let alone work better together.
    “And now here
you
come,” she went on, turning back to the highway, “straight from a time before this whole empty rhetoric of ‘bipartisanship’ we’ve all overused to the point of being meaningless. They all see something to admire in you. This woman in Florida likes that you were a thoughtful governor of the Philippines … this lawyer in South Carolina admires your negotiation skills, your dedication to diplomacy as the means to world peace … this coal miner in Wyoming, uh, seems to respect that you’re, quote, not afraid to stand big and proud in your resplendent girth in defiance of the impossible Hollywood standard, unquote. Whatever it is, they’re all talking about your return as being the next great inspirational force in grassroots politics. A true icon of the American people. A legacy that should inspire political action today.”
    Taft lowered his voice to avoid waking Susan; the last thing he needed was her jumping into the conversation with an opinion on his icon-hood. “Rachel, forgive me for being cynical, but that allsounds a little too good to be true. Did you not three weeks ago tell me that I spent my century of absence being scarcely remembered as the wretched, irrelevant laughingstock of presidential history?”
    “I know. It’s turned around on a dime. It’s bizarre. And yet, right

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