IT IS 7:30 P.M. CROSSFIRE IS ON THE AIR, and crackling. John Sununu—sitting on the right (where else?)—is jousting with his cohost, liberal columnist Michael Kinsley, and two guests about the ethics of the press using anonymous sources. It is a lively go-round, as fast-moving as the handheld Nintendo Game Boy the former White House chief of staff loves to play. Sununu slams Kinsley. Kinsley rips Sununu. Whap! Pow! And at the corner of Sununu's mouth? It looks like...a smile. He is clearly having fun. "Hey," says Crossfire's makeup man, Skip Smith, "he's a fun guy."

Yes, TV seems to have brought out the sunny side of Sununu, 52, George Bush's brash, ballistic, press-bashing pit bull—and walking public-relations disaster. Kinsley confirms it. "His reputation as an ogre doesn't seem justified now that I've worked with him," he says. "He hasn't bitten my head off yet. But he better not turn completely cuddly, or the show won't work." Bush may even miss Sununu—especially the hard-nosed pre-TV model. "The President's morale seemed better when he was around," says Brit Hume, ABC's White House correspondent. "He was a very strong chief of staff. Sam Skinner [his replacement] is not in the same intellectual league."

Sununu joined the CNN show on March 2, one day after officially leaving the White House under intense political fire for using government transportation on personal business. And how did he feel about entering the press corps (more or less)? "I feel sleazy already," he joked before taking the job. Ever since, he's been filling in temporarily for Pat Buchanan, who is otherwise engaged. The irony of defending George Bush from the very chair of the man now running against the President is not lost on Sununu. "It proves there is a God," he once joked.

Despite his vaunted 180 IQ, Sununu has an unerring ability to project arrogance. He admits he limits newspaper reading to the sports pages. As for TV news, forget it. "They have a heart attack at CNN because I don't watch TV news," he says. "They'll put on Peter Jennings before I come on. They think I ought to see the way the network news is characterizing the story of the day we'll be doing on Crossfire. I humor them and watch it."

Sununu does have a day job. A former advocate for the nuclear-power industry, he is working as a consultant for clients he declines to name or further describe. And he told an interviewer for Spy magazine, who was pretending to be a headhunter, that he expected to earn "a couple of million dollars in six months" giving speeches. He rents an office near the White House, and every afternoon he takes a peek at his former place of employment. "I look out the window and reminisce," he says. "Do I miss it? Yes and no. I miss the people. I had a lot of good friends over there."

He also made quite a few enemies. When word leaked that he had been using military aircraft to go skiing and a White House car to ferry him to a stamp show in New York City, the pressure mounted for him to quit. Sununu blames the press. "There were all these stories about my limousine," he complains. "My chauffeur-driven limousine was actually a little New-Yorker, a four-door sedan. It was small." And, he says, he worked during the stamp-show run, so what's the big deal? "That leaves a bad taste in your mouth," he says.

Sununu lives in a four-bedroom colonial house in Oakton, Va., with his wife, Nancy, 52, director of special projects for the Republican Governors Association, and three of their eight children. (The other five are out on their own.) They are talking about moving back to New Hampshire, where Sununu was Governor for six years, once son Chris, 17, finishes school. "This place [Washington] isn't reality," says Nancy.

"It's Disneyland East," interjects John, who says he has no interest in running for office again. He is more interested in his collection of 50,000 baseball cards. He has just about every one printed from 1948 to 1964. "But I'm missing a 1952 Mickey Mantle card," he hints mischievously. "I can now accept gifts, now that I'm no longer a federal employee." A '52 Mantle lists at $24,000. Yes, he's still got the old form.

JOE TREEN
JANE SIMS PODESTA in Washington, D.C.

  • Contributors:
  • Jane Sims Podesta.
This week's cover

On Newsstands Now!

Saved by the Bell Reunion

The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires

The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!

Get 4 FREE PREVIEW Issues! Click here now