"...Three Reasons Number Two Doesn't Make Number One Go Any Higher..."

It took Romney a few months.

Me?

A couple of weeks, at least.

NORFOLK, Va.--Mitt Romney will name his vice presidential running mate on Saturday.

According to a statement the campaign released late Friday, the presumptive Republican nominee will announce his running mate at an 8:45am rally here on the USS Wisconsin--the first stop of his four-day bus tour of key battleground states. The campaign offered no further details, and aides traveling with Ronney declined to comment.

But Republican sources told NBC News, the Huffington Post, the Associated Press and CNN that Romney is expected to name Rep. Paul Ryan of Wisconsin--reports the campaign refused to confirm. But early Saturday morning, the site, RomneyRyan.com, began referring to a page on Romney's official campaign website touting "America's Comeback Team."

Former Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty, Ohio Sen. Rob Portman and Florida Sen. Marco Rubio--all of whom were said to be on Romney's short list--were informed late Friday that they were not the pick, according to ABC News's Jon Karl.


Just last night, I was saying, in response to being asked, that I didn't really have a serious guess/opinion as to who the Republican VP nominee would be.

Which explains, to both those who were wondering and those who couldn't care less but are, for whatever reason, reading what I'm writing here, why I haven't, up until this writing, written about it.

There were three reasons I continued to resist the running mate ramble.

First, I honestly don't think it makes any difference.

At all.

Whatsoever.

Second, I honestly couldn't care less.

At all.

Whatsoever.

And third.

See reasons one and two.

Inevitable accusations of cynicism duly noted, let me try to offer you a cogent argument for, at least, the first of the aforementioned three.

Historically, the choice of a vice presidential running mate has been little more than a generic entry on the ticket topper's to do list.

The Contitution requires the nation to have a Vice President.

But let's not kid ourselves.

There's a reason there's no Vice Presidential wing, complete with offices and personal residence, at 1600 Pennsylvania.

"Look, youse guys...dere's only one boss in dis gang, capice'?.."

Much as we would like to idealize and/or think so, the American ship of state might be a magnificent, fully appointed, state of the art marvel, but the cockpit has one, and only one, seat in it.

Co-pilot required by regulation.

But, back of the bus, baby. We'll call you if we need you.

Geography used to be a factor when it came to picking a veep.

Kennedy, in 1960 for example, chose Lyndon Johnson largely because it was believed within the party power tower that Johnson would ease the fears of, and accordingly harvest the votes of, Southern and Western working and middle class folks thinking twice about voting for an uber rich, Catholic, Harvard graduate from New England.

Fast forward to 2012 and in a much, much smaller online world, regions, as such, really arent all that regional anymore.

There is, of course, a valid school of thought as regards the need to pick a running mate who, should the unthinkable happen, would immediately be able to come up from the back of the bus and keep on truckin' with nary a weave or swerve.

In the light of hindsight, Kennedy's choice of Johnson now seems a bold stroke of genius, Johnson's eventual wandering off down the wrong road notwithstanding.

While going a long way towards explaining why John McCain didn't do himself any favors with his choice.

Meanwhile, back to Mitt Romney.

At this writing, the choice has not been announced.

But in a much, much smaller online world, chances that "reliable sources" are in error are that of the proverbial gone south ice cube's.

So, Romney/Ryan will take on Obama/Biden.

See?

Neither of the names following the "/" gave me the slightest surge of adrenalin, either.

Let alone hope or inspriration.

And that's why it took me at least two weeks to muster up the energy to write about VP.

See reason one.

Not for nothin', by the way, but something useful did, in fact, come out of all this.

For the first time in a life of dealing with pretty solid male DNA hard wiring, I think I finally understand, even empathize, with the heretofore incomprehensible feeling that women have when they stand in front of thousands of cubic feet of stuffed full closet space and lament that they have nothing to wear.

I hear ya, sistas.