10:23 AM EDT on Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Journal photo / Connie Grosch Massachusetts Governor Romney and his wife, Ann, appear before guests at a New Emgland-style clambake held abroad the Intrepid aircraft carrier museum in New York City yesterday. Romney will address the GOP convention tomorrow night.

NEW YORK -- I had a slew of questions on issues of the day for Mitt Romney. But first there was something else I needed to ask the wealthy 57-year-old Massachusetts governor, whose late father, George, ran American Motors and popularized the compact Rambler before being elected Michigan governor in 1962 and trying for president in 1968.

I wanted to know if Romney has an old Rambler around. "I wish!" he said. He said the family, bike riding in New Hampshire, had just spotted a 1966 Rambler Classic in a barnyard. "My son said, 'Let's go buy it and take it home.' " But the hood was open, and there was no engine, so the car lost its allure. "We decided we're not going to get one as a plantholder!"

Tomorrownight, Romney addresses the Republican Convention -- a moment in the national political sun for a man many back home think is eyeing a White House bid of his own some day. "That's the most remote thing that comes to mind," he insists. But he also says he's "very comfortable" in the party and wants to help shape it.

That was a beaming Romney being feted last night at a huge reception aboard the aircraft carrier Intrepid that is the center of a museum at 12th Avenue here. Joe Piscopo was on hand to sing on a deck adorned with historical planes and spacecraft. Romney told me, "Wow, what fun, what a blast! What a way to start!"

Fare at the event sponsored by MassMutual, Liberty Mutual and Fidelity featured shrimp, crab, salmon and chicken.

Though you'll see Romney referred to as a moderate, he defines himself as a conservative, albeit with variations. "When it comes to spending money, I'm very careful. I don't raise taxes. And I am convinced that the values that make America great need to be preserved."

Romney personally opposes abortion but so far has managed to finesse the issue. When he ran for governor in 2002 he promised not to change the laws. It was, he says, a recognition that Massachusetts is "overwhelmingly 'pro-choice' " and that Roe v. Wade has long been the law of the land.

I don't know if Romney could pass muster with the antiabortion zealots who dominate the national party.

He surely has gained fame for opposing gay marriage. He says same-sex couples should be entitled to civil unions but that marriage -- intended, he asserts, mainly for the procreation of children -- should be preserved for a man and a woman. Of course, many heterosexual couples lack the desire or ability to have kids, and it's insulting to deny gays the prestige of marriage, but even civil unions are beyond the ken of many in national GOP circles.

On another item, Romney favors federal support of stem-cell research on new embryos; George W. Bush opposes it.

Like Rhode Island, Massachusetts is heavily Democratic; John Kerry of the Bay State will sweep both places in November. I asked Romney how it helps Massachusetts that Bush is president. "It helps America to have George Bush as president, and Massachusetts is part of America -- still," he chuckled. He said Bush, using the "powerful" tool of a tax cut, has worked hard to stimulate the economy. And Bush also "is committed to winning the war on terror rather than sinking in self-doubt and guilt, which seems to be the want of people like Michael Moore."

Romney, a venture capitalist, won acclaim by taking over as chief of the scandal-plagued 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City and securing success. I was curious what he learned from that rescue mission that could help him rebuild the tiny Massachusetts GOP. He is trying to make inroads in this year's legislative races, as is Republican Governor Carcieri in Rhode Island.

Romney says you have to assess where you are, assemble the right people, and then "focus, focus, focus." Reviving the party will take a "long, long time." In the short run, he'd be thrilled to elect enough lawmakers in one chamber to sustain a veto. Without that ability, he suggests, he has no leverage.

Romney says he's criticized for not negotiating deals with lawmakers. In fact, he chirps, "There is no reason for them to negotiate. There is nothing I can offer the legislature."

I remember watching George Romney's drive to win the 1968 presidential nomination. He was the favorite of moderates like Rhode Island Gov. John Chafee. But as the race warmed up in 1967, he stumbled badly by saying he at first backed the war in Vietnam because he'd been "brainwashed" by American generals.

After the eventual nominee, Richard Nixon, chose Spiro Agnew for vice president, Chafee helped lead an unsuccessful convention floor fight to give the VP nod to Romney. Just after the convention, I did a story about Chafee's participation, and I recently asked Mitt Romney about the incident.

He told me he wasn't at the Miami Beach convention. At 21, he was serving as a Mormon missionary in France. In fact, he said, he hadn't even known about the vice-presidential episode. But he said he certainly had been in touch while his father was still running for president. For one thing, the father would send "long, single-space typewritten" letters.

Did his father ever talk with him about the "brainwash" incident? "We spoke about that a great deal," says Romney. He says his father, "a colorful speaker," had used a "metaphorical" term and been unfairly hammered by opponents.

It may seem natural, or fated, that Mitt Romney would enter politics and perhaps seek some day to win the office that eluded his father. But he tells a different story. "I found myself getting into politics almost by happenstance," he says. As the 1994 election approached, he says, he was talking with then-Gov. Bill Weld about the prospect that Sen. Ted Kennedy would win reelection without a real fight. Romney asserts he recognized that Kennedy "couldn't be beaten, least of all by a white Mormon, male, millionaire Republican." Even so, "I wanted to point out how flawed his political philosophy had been and how damaging the welfare state had been for the poor." So he ran.

For someone who claims he had no thought of winning, Romney did a very good impersonation of a serious candidate. Indeed, Rep. Patrick Kennedy, the senator's son, recalls a September poll showing the two candidates tied. He says his father told him, "Well, it looks as though I'm going to have to turn to you for a job after the election. Do you think you could make me a doorman over in the House?"

Of course, the senator then retooled his campaign, launched a tough counterattack, and won by 17 points.

M. Charles Bakst, The Journal's political columnist, can be reached by e-mail at mbakst [at] projo.com