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"It was one of those little touches that went a long way," McKinnon says. "He really is thoughtful about others. I left that meeting with the feeling that he was the kind of guy I could get in a boat with for a long trip."

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Some Democrats who worked with McKinnon consider his union with Bush the unholiest of matrimonies. To them, McKinnon is guilty of betrayal and selling out -- like a lifelong Dallas Cowboys fan whose favorite tune suddenly becomes "Hail to the Redskins."

They wonder if McKinnon lives in a constant state of self-rationalization -- focusing on Bush's great-guy disposition as an excuse to ignore Bush's duty to the Republican party. They conclude McKinnon is lying either to himself or to others about his real motives to work for Bush. The other possibility is that he actually has abandoned the political ideals he once held dear.

"A consultant who works for a candidate who stands for the exact opposite of what he worked for before is either amoral, unprincipled, has had some mysterious religious conversion or is doing it just for the money," says Dean Rindy, a hard-line Democratic political consultant from Austin. Rindy's partnership with McKinnon in 1990 and '91 ended in an ugly legal battle over disputed revenues.

"Mark has to pretend that he was the reluctant virgin in a romance novel -- that he met George W. Bush, got swept off his feet and now he's pregnant -- and I don't believe that," Rindy says. "Mark is plainly doing this for money and ambition."

McKinnon says he made more money in his previous jobs as a consultant for corporations than he is earning with Bush. But he does not deny that his current gig can be parlayed into a fortune in the future -- if that's what he wants. He maintains his motivation is as pure as the wholesome images he has captured on Super 8.

"Over time, I have learned Governor Bush is somebody who is compelling, interesting, compassionate and loyal and a terrifically decent human being," McKinnon says. "I have come to believe that the character of the candidate or office holder is at least as important as their ideology. I'm certainly not a Republican. But I'm not an ideologue anymore, and I'm not a partisan anymore."

Yet McKinnon finds himself in the middle of a political campaign -- the race for president -- that by definition is as ideological and partisan as they come.

"Politics should never be about who is more likable or who is the coolest," says Samantha Smoot, who worked on progressive and Democratic party politics with McKinnon for ten years, including efforts to preserve abortion rights.

"Politics is about how people's families and lives are impacted. You can't just put your head in the sand and say, 'I like George W. Bush, so it doesn't really matter that he won't do anything to keep guns out of kids' hands or that he'll support restrictions on abortion rights.' "

As the campaign progresses, a day of reckoning will come for McKinnon. No matter how hard Bush tries to keep his campaign on the high road, a presidential campaign cannot maintain the innocence of an old home movie. During the 1998 gubernatorial race, McKinnon never had to create an ad for Bush that attacked Democratic opponent Garry Mauro. Bush enjoyed such a big lead, he never had to go negative. But in the presidential race, if Bush wins the GOP nomination, McKinnon undoubtedly will be asked to produce an ad that attacks Democratic nominee Al Gore or Bill Bradley. And he may find the message terribly offensive.

"My job is to communicate Bush's ideas, not mine," is a phrase McKinnon is fond of repeating.

Communicating Bush's ideas hasn't been a problem for McKinnon thus far because the early stages of the campaign have been short on specifics and heavy on image. But as Bush gets more precise on issues and the campaign grows more partisan, McKinnon draws closer to the day his job and his personal beliefs will violently clash. Then he will have to decide who he really is, what he really wants and what he really thinks about George W. Bush.

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McKinnon and Bush were still warming up to each other when they traveled together on a campaign swing during a summer heat wave in 1998. With temperatures in the triple digits, the two decided to go for a run on the blazing concrete surrounding the Ballpark in Arlington.

"It was a deal where we were both too macho and too competitive to stop and say, 'This is nuts,' " McKinnon recalls. "We literally almost killed each other and finally sort of stopped after two miles and realized we both were about to die."

Democrats trying to figure out what has drawn McKinnon and Bush to each other examine their personalities as much as their politics. Both are fitness buffs who boast wry touches to their humor. Each is outwardly easygoing, infectiously charming and extremely confident.

"We both really like to color outside the lines," McKinnon says. "I'm not a very conventional person. I like to kind of throw deep and do what's unexpected. It's very much like the governor. I think part of the reason he brought me aboard was that hiring me represented an unconventional approach."