The Afterlife of George W. Bush

Ryan knows a little about stepping off the mound. Leave office, Ryan says, and "you're just another citizen of the United States."

When Bush last lived here full time, he was a media darling with sky-high approval ratings. Karl Rove had conducted a "front-porch campaign," inspired by the candidacy of William McKinley. Governor Bush waited for national GOP leaders to come to him at the stately white-columned governor's mansion in Austin. Republican rainmakers trooped up the steps and threw their support to Bush's presidential campaign.

Today, the mansion is in ruins—almost torched to the ground last June by an arsonist who still hasn't been caught. And the Bush brand, once spoken of in the halls of the legislature with awe, is now a little like Lord Voldemort's. "It is the name that shall not be spoken," says Texas political consultant Bill Miller, who has worked with both Democrats and Republicans. "The emotional response from people is almost always negative, never positive. It's a different time and a different deal."

Earlier this year a state lawmaker from Waco, which is close to Bush's ranch, proposed a bill praising the ex-president as a man who "lived each day with the safety and prosperity of his fellow citizens foremost in his mind; he took a principled stand on a wide range of issues of great importance to every American, and his tireless efforts will not soon be forgotten." Further, the measure held that Bush should be lauded for his "new antiterrorism tools."

It was similar to the thousands of salutes handed out every year without a whisper of opposition. But this one met with intense resistance by one Ft. Worth state representative, who said it seemed like Bush was being congratulated for "his waterboarding and other torture techniques." The original proposal was withdrawn, rewritten and resubmitted. At the last hearing on the bill in late April, no witnesses showed up to defend it or attack it. It now sits in limbo—a little like the person it was written for.

Only a little more than a month after leaving Washington, Bush dropped in to see students at Pershing Elementary near his new house in Dallas, according to a local blogger. He asked the grade-schoolers if they knew who he was. One student shouted: "George Washington!"

He quickly answered: "George Washington Bush."

Texas today is different from the heady place it was when Bush left. Unemployment is rising, and deepening recessions are predicted for some urban areas. And though it is still firmly a Republican state, the GOP holds just a two-seat lead in the Texas House. Obama secured 44 percent of the vote in Texas, improving on the 38 percent Kerry won when he ran against Bush in 2004. Navigating the changed terrain is tricky business for Bush and his handlers—one that involves carefully picking his spots.