Maybe George W. Bush is carrying this I'm-not-Bill-Clinton thing too far. Sure Bush has gotten a lot of mileage out of his personal contrasts with Clinton. But spending a month in the Texas dust seems an overly emphatic recoil from Clinton's preference for chic vacations around the beautiful people.
It is, though, like all presidential choices, revealing in its own ways. Much of Bush's style in the White House seems designed to subtly reassure his supporters that he's nothing like the predecessor they loathed for eight interminable years. The White House edict mandating coats and ties in the Oval Office can be read as a slap at the informality of the Clinton years. Bush's preference for crisp corporate scheduling rejects the college bull-session atmosphere that Clinton sometimes encouraged.
The differences extend to their public images. Bush is taciturn where Clinton was loquacious. And while Clinton used the White House megaphone to insert himself into nearly every social controversy, Bush uses the bully pulpit more sparingly than any president in recent times. Part of that may reflect his staff's uncertainty about his skill at delivering formal speeches or sparring with the press in news conferences. But his lower profile also reflects the suspicion of eloquence itself that Clinton's presidency left in conservative circles. The White House seems to be telling voters that Bush may be a man of fewer words than his predecessor, but at least you can always trust his words. In the White House iconography, Bush is Gary Cooper to Clinton's Elmer Gantry.
Even Bush's more modest workday and regular midday diversions (like his Oval Office visits with athletes and T-ball games on the White House South Lawn) may signal that he sees politics as a lesser part of his life than his predecessor did. Whatever it says about his attitude toward cracking the books, Bush's more relaxed approach to the job also reinforces his central policy message. The subtle hint to his supporters is that unlike Clinton, Bush doesn't need to spend hours dreaming up new Washington initiatives because he believes that often the best thing Washington can do is nothing.
