Robert Durand, a former Democratic state senator who once jumped into the Charles River with Weld to show that the river was cleaner, said Weld loves the game.
“You always want to be a player,” said Durand, who still goes fly fishing in the Adirondacks with him every spring.
But Durand, Tocco, Buckingham, and Burlandi doubt that Weld really wants to give up his nights, weekends, vacations to shake hands from Springfield to Attleboro.
None would rule it out, but Berlandi, the former fund-raiser, said most of the people he used to tap for Weld’s campaigns have either dropped out of politics or have died.
Michael S. Dukakis, the Democrat who preceded Weld as governor, made a long snorting sound when asked if Weld should run for Senate. Dukakis, the outspoken liberal, has been the antithesis of Weld, politically and stylistically.
“I don’t think he’s serious,” Dukakis said. “What is Weld serious about? Anything? He comes, he goes. He drops in. He disappears.”
Weld enjoys talking about the past. Yet he protests any notion that he is becoming a purely nostalgic figure.
“No, I want to be an active figure,” he said. “I like doing things. I’m having a great time. Tocco and I have spent the last six weeks charging around and it’s really fun.”
I Last week, Weld, an inveterate name-dropper, and his wife were eating dinner at Rialto, in the Charles Hotel.
“This must be governors’ night,” the host told him.
Then the owner, Richard Friedman, a prominent Democratic donor, and his wife came to the Welds’ table, with Deval and Diane Patrick, the governor and his wife. Weld joked about endorsing Patrick for president in 2016. They all laughed.
“We had a wicked time,” Weld said.