We need a leader that will make the United States the wonderful country we all know it can be.  A leader who will honor the constitution and restore our integrity.

This ad will be running in Iowa. It’s a great issue ad. Aside from a minor quibble left over from years of college forensics (don’t fold your hands in front of you while you speak, Governor!) I think it’s quite good.

I am a big “message” guy. Issue positions are like ingredients for a meal. They’re essential, and you can’t make a good meal without good choices at the supermarket, but they are not, without more, dinner. Every campaign needs a message that unifies the issue positions of the candidate into a coherent package that voters can “get” at a gut level. This helps them contrast the candidate with other candidates and also helps them remember the issue stances. Messages are generally phrased in terms of dynamics; the classic example is Clinton in 1992. Change vs. More of the Same.

I have written before that I think the obvious message for the Richardson folks is proven leadership vs. inexperience. In the primaries, you have to be more positive, so Richardson needs to emphasize the good part of that dynamic rather than call out the other candidates as inexperienced. This ad does this, subtly; at the very end, Richardson makes a strong statement: George Bush won’t do that. But I will. The implicit image is of leadership.

It could be more explicit. Mentioning Richardson’s Iraq experience (the hostage negotiations, etc.) might have been better than calling on Congress to do something. But I’m nitpicking at details. It’s a great ad; watch it right now.

Clearly, our good friends at Western Democrat are trying to overload us with great analysis that demands comment. Their most recent post, A Southwestern Strategy, is especially good, because it refines an idea I’ve suggested to Andrea a number of times: ticket reinforcement would work very well for Bill Richardson.

Some background.

Usually, Presidential candidates are encouraged to pick their running mates for one of a few reasons: they need their subject-matter expertise (Cheney is a great example of this), or the ticket needs to win their home state (sup, LBJ). In the modern day, you hear a lot about “ticket balance.” A Northeastern liberal like John Kerry runs for President? Well, pick yourself a Southern moderate! Something for everyone!

By contrast, ticket reinforcement is premised on the theory “if one is good, two is better!” Clinton-Gore in 1992 is the archetype. Clinton, a young Southern moderate, chose Gore, another… young Southern moderate! The effect was to reinforce and amplify their message: we are the future of the party (young), we are going to win moderate votes, and we have charming accents. There is no confusion of the message, no disparate records to reconcile, no disagreements to paper over. You pick someone like yourself.

The post at Western Dems suggests a Richardson-Napolitano ticket. (Napolitano is the Democratic governor of Arizona.) My suggestion to Andrea, when I get worked up about this stuff, is usually Sen. Ken Salazar, from Colorado. (Sometimes when I get really crazy, I suggest Rep. John Salazar, of the Colorado 3rd–Ken’s brother.) In both cases, it’s a Southwestern Strategy: the idea being to take one of the most reliably Republican areas of the country and split it wide open, destroying any chance the GOP has to win a Presidential election for the next 12-16 years.

Of course, Richardson/Salazar puts two Latinos on the ticket, and Richardson/Napolitano puts a woman on the ticket. Either one would be a radical break from tradition, and I’m not sure the country is ready for either; then again, we’re never going to know if we’re ready until we go out there and do it. Plus, either one would be awesome, and you never win the big victories unless you go for the gold.

I also relish the thought of watching the GOP squirm as Gov. Richardson and Gov. Napolitano hammer them on immigration, an issue they wield with dominance and authority.

Richardson/Napolitano also has another interesting fact about it: John McCain is from Arizona and enjoys immense popularity there. Napolitano’s presence on the ticket, however, would force him to campaign in his home state, and probably to campaign a lot in his home state. She has nearly 60% approval in Arizona, and Republicans like her more than they like Bush. She simply could not be ignored. (Here’s the Google cache of that poll, which has since expired from AZCentral.)

I’m eager to hear everyone’s thoughts on this. It is completely clear to me that a Southwestern Strategy is the way to go; I just don’t know which one. There are so many great Western Democrats, it’s hard to choose! (Meanwhile, everyone else can bore themselves to tears with thoughts of Clinton/Clark, or something.) ]]> http://billrichardsonblog.com/ticket-reinforcement-a-southwestern-strategy/feed/ 0 http://billrichardsonblog.com/three-tickets-out-of-new-hampshire/ http://billrichardsonblog.com/three-tickets-out-of-new-hampshire/#comments Tue, 17 Jul 2007 02:58:00 +0000 Ian http://billrichardsonblog.com/?p=7 Via CNN’s Political Ticker, is word of a new poll that puts Richardson ahead (within the margin of error) of Edwards in New Hampshire. Third place, in other words.

This is being reported, predictably, as part of a slip by Edwards. And it is; Edwards’ campaign has had some weird problems, even though he’s obviously a capable, thoughtful candidate. But Edwards’ slipping is also coming at a time when the Governor is rising in New Hampshire. He now regularly polls in the double digits; he was the only candidate to spend the Fourth of July in New Hampshire; and his upward-sloping polling position is no doubt very encouraging to the campaign.

He’s building momentum, in short. The Richardson who promised to “out-work anyone” at the start of the campaign has demonstrated he’s serious about it. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting fatigued with endless stories about Clinton and Obama’s fundraising numbers (which are duly impressive); like, apparently, more and more New Hampshire voters, I’m looking for the candidate with the vision and experience to run the country on Day One. Can you imagine–after six more months of the Governor making his case for competence and six more months of media pie-fights about fundraising–how many more New Hampshirites, and how many more Iowans, and how many more Nevadans and South Carolinians and Americans all across the country, will be ready to make the same choice you and I have?

Continued from Part 3.

House Party, Hampton: 2 pm

I only get slightly lost trying to find the house hosting the final event of the day. Was that Liberty Lane East or West? I finally park at the end of a very long lane of cars on a curving street and walk up the brick path to the house. I feel kind of weird just walking in the front door of someone I don’t know, but I guess that’s how these things go. I squeeze into the back of the living room to hear the Gov praising the elected officials who came out to talk with him.

“What paper are you from?” whispers a well-dressed lady.

I need to get better at answering this kind of question. I look blank, then say, “I write for the Harvard Law Record and the Bill Richardson Blog.” She nods like this is what she expected, and points to an older woman in an orange blouse. “She’s the host of the party.”

I nod like I’m all ready to go interview her, when I’m really thinking, I hope she doesn’t come up to me, say “Who are you?” and kick me out of her house.

Richardson is gesturing to a blond woman near him, who I realize is new Rep. Carol Shea-Porter. Cool of her to come out. He also points out the state Speaker of the House, Terie Norelli, and other people whose names I can’t keep up with. This is a pretty high-powered living room. I think I was misled by all the knitted sweaters.

Richardson is talking about how much he likes retail politics, and how this works out well with how active New Hampshire voters are. “You want candidates who talk about issues,” he says, and lots of heads nod. “Who are real, who you can see and touch and see what their heart is made of. And I like that.” This comes across as really genuine. “The factors in your choice,” he says, “should be ‘Where do you stand? What’s your experience, and what have you done?’”

A woman with a fancy camera squeezes through the door, and I notice that on one side of her green laminated ID it says “Hillary” very large (as in, For President), and then below that, “Traveling Press.” I have no idea what that’s about, but she takes a picture and leaves a minute later. Weird.

The Gov talks about health care, about switching the focus to preventative care, and how he’s looking into the Massachusetts plan to see if it’s a good national model. He reiterates that he isn’t running a campaign full of glamour and jets and hundreds of staff: “I had a consultant, but I fired him, so it’s just me.”

He very quickly gets to the question phase, and is first hit with a direct question about women’s rights. His answer is just as direct: “I’ll always be pro-choice.” He speaks a bit more about the need to not make policy based on religion, on his support for contraception and education that prevents unwanted pregnancy, and reminds the crowd that presidents appoint judges who majorly affect the interpretation of our rights. He ends by looking the woman in the face and says, “So I’ll be with you.” She seems very happy.

Richardson takes more questions, and talks about election reform and his push to get paper ballots in more states, his skills in diplomacy, and even how he’d reform the international bodies he believes so much in. He wants to expand the Security Council, and reform the IMF and World Bank to weed out corruption and make sure loans to countries help build social systems and enterprise. He says bluntly that he would increase our foreign aid budget, because we could be radically checking AIDS and it’s just embarrassing we’re not better funding poverty and nutrition programs. I am really thrilled to hear this.

The Gov’s biggest problem right now is that he has so much to say that he can go on two or three tangents within the same question. Answering a job about the retention of American jobs, he goes from the problems with government jobs programs to streamlining the military budget to his dislike of spending a lot of money to update our nuclear weapons, and then swings back to American workers. It’s endearing because he’s getting so into it, but a little whiplash results.

I sneak into the kitchen so I can position myself to say hi (or goodbye) when he’s done. After this event he’s rushing back to New Mexico, so I figure I won’t get some big chat with the Gov – on this trip, at any rate. The staff are pacing, trying to signal him to stop taking questions already. In the living room, the Gov is rolling through his immigration proposals and expressing support for McCain-Kennedy – “that is, if Senator McCain still supports that, he’s been changing his mind lately.” That gets a laugh.

Finally, we hear him say “I have a lot of power as a governor, but not over Delta Airlines. Which they tell me is going to leave without me.” He flashes a big smile, and with that, makes for the door. I make sure to get in his way and stick out my hand.

Richardson’s eyes flash with recognition. “Harvard Law School!” he cries, like it’s my name, and he pumps my hand up and down.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you today,” I say. “I’m going to write it all up on the blog.”

“Great,” he says. “Thanks for coming out. You do that.” And that’s it. The NECN reporter swoops in, and my big encounter with the guy I want to be President is over.

I shake hands, collect some business cards, thank Jeff for inviting me, and head outside in the snow. I tell him that if the campaign returns my emails, I’ll know it was a successful day. I pass Norelli’s car, with its Speaker of the House license plate, and another plate marked President Pro Tem, I guess of the NH Senate. It really was quite a living room. And right before I get to my car, I pass a car whose backseat holds a very faded sign I know too well: Dean for America. Ah, I remember those days.

Back on the road, I head down I-95 toward Boston. It’s been quite a day. I wondered what I’d think, seeing this person I’d been reading about forever actually meet voters and talk about his record, and now I know: Bill Richardson IS the real deal. His answers aren’t always clean and polished, but he’s loose, funny, and a walking encylopedia of policy expertise. I hope he made some fans today. I’m almost positive he did.

Then I stop at a Wendy’s along the interstate. And shovel a baked potato, salad, fries, and a soda into my mouth. It’s been a long day.

Thanks for reading the series. Hope you all enjoyed it! And for the record, Pahl Shipley promptly returned an email. Nice guy.

Talk at RiverRun Bookstore, 12:30

The drive to Portsmouth ends up being on a local highway where I can’t break 40 miles an hour. I pass a large yellow sign that says MOOSE CROSSING. Well, that’s not something I see every day. By the time I get to the street where the bookstore is, I’m 20 minutes late. The Gov had the benefit of a highway escort (I think), so got there earlier. I park in a structure advertising an hour for 75 cents (and laugh at how low this is to a Californian like myself), and totter on my high-heel boots through the ice to the bookstore.

When I get there, my heart sinks. There are two other people standing outside the glass door, unable to get in. The bookstore is completely packed, wall-to-wall, and they are not opening the door to more people. I drove all this way for this? I look for a side door.

There, a couple people are looking with curiosity at the crowd. “Who’s in there?” says a woman to her boyfriend. “Bill Richardson,” he says, reading the Richardson for President sign in the window. “Who’s Bill Richardson?” she says. He shrugs.

I call out, “He’s the Governor of New Mexico.” She turns. “Oh, thanks.” And leaves. Oh well.

A couple people inside the store squeeze out, and as they do, I squeeze in. I find a small hole by a side bookshelf and try to pull out my notepad. There’s so many people I can’t move much. The Gov is still doing his speech, so I haven’t missed as much as I thought. (You can see some nice pictures of Richardson at the bookstore at Candidate Photos, although believe me when I say that the people in chairs make it seem much roomier than it was; right behind them was a mosh pit of at least 60 people smushed together. The goateed Jeff Gulko is also visible in the background of one picture.)

Richardson is talking about the need to negotiate with even “bad” world leaders, and how he was on Anderson Cooper when he found himself in the strange position of defending Bush’s decision to talk to North Korea while former Ambassador John Bolton slammed the decision. Bolton’s name gets booed. The Gov does a bad Bush impression, but the crowd forgives him, agreeing that people don’t want a “You’re with us or against us” foreign policy. They go nuts at any mention of international human rights, and laugh loudly when Richardson says that if we only talk to “good” leaders, we’ll soon only have diplomatic relations with the Vatican.

In fact, if I were on Richardson’s staff, I’d tell him to stop more often for applause. There are times the crowd clearly loves what he’s saying, but can’t clap because he’s rolling on to his next idea.

An old man pokes through the crowd and gestures to his wife, who is sitting on a stack of books in the back. He wants to leave. She shakes her head. She’s enjoying this. “I can’t take this,” he says, referring to the pressing crowd. “I have to leave and go sit in the car.” She shrugs, he goes, and she smiles at me before turning back to the Gov.

Richardson gets one more laugh talking about his respect for Bill Clinton. “President Clinton, who I love – well, maybe better not overdo the love. He’s a little mad at me right now. You can guess why.”

During the question session, the Gov gets his most tense question of the day when a man says Richardson tried to “dilute” New Hampshire’s primary (by supporting the Nevada caucus, I guess), and asks, in response to the view that New Hampshire is not diverse enough, “Do you see any bigots here?”

Yikes. The Gov is very polite, and stresses his support for New Hampshire’s status as first-in-the-nation, while explaining that the other caucuses have value. He takes other questions and gets a big hand for advocating light rail projects, and nods for honestly explaining he doesn’t have a complex health care proposal yet and is trying to figure out how best to pay for it.

He closes, and people mob him holding copies of “Between Worlds,” of which the bookstore has now sold out. Pushing up to the front, I hear a guy saying, “I think he has potential!”

A white-haired guy introduces himself to me. I saw him at the café, wearing shades inside, and thought he was security because he looked so badass. He turns out to be Pahl Shipley, Richardson’s communications director. I promise to send him the editorial I wrote for the Gov a few weeks ago, and then run off to get my car and head to the last event of the day in Hampton. I am really, really hungry.

The Week Before, Boston

Jeff Gulko emails and asks me if I am coming to New Hampshire on Saturday. Sure, I say, but will I get to actually meet the Gov? Yes, he says. Come along to all the events and help me out. So I do. It’s clear this campaign is still trying to save money – Jeff, who is not on the payroll, emails me before Saturday and asks if I know a photographer who might come for free. He eventually enlists his uncle.

I print out Google directions and labor with my husband to free our car from where it is frozen solid into the street. I finally “succeed” when our landlord pushes us out with his pickup truck. Too tired and cold to bother clearing the rest of the ice covering the car, I just leave it.

Young Dems Breakfast, Manchester: 9 AM

I drive up to Manchester bright and early Saturday morning, the hood and trunk of my car still frosted hard with ice from the storm. I arrive at Jewell and the Beanstalk, a local coffee shop, before 8:30 and park next to what I hope is the curb, as there’s too much snow to tell.

Inside, I share a booth with a local man who’s thrilled about a Richardson story in the New Hampshire Union-Leader in which the Gov calls for the Congress to do something stronger than a nonbinding resolution to get us out of Iraq. He goes on and on about Bush’s megalomania while I eat mixed berry oatmeal. Eventually, Jeff, his uncle, some volunteers, and the New Hampshire Young Dems folks arrive and set up mailing lists and swag. People start arriving. Everything looks good.

An older couple stops in “We’re not young,” the woman says to Katie, the Young Dems head. “But can we stay anyway?” Katie smiles and says yes, and points them to the free muffins. One woman comes in with a baby in a blue Snugli – the youngest Dem, I suppose.

Then people won’t stop arriving. At five to nine, every seat in the small restaurant is taken, and the place is full of people standing in tight clumps. Cameras and rolls of stickers promoting the NH primary as first in the nation appear. Apparently all the major candidates have been wearing them except one, which from the overheard conversation sounds like John Edwards.

The bell over the door rings as more people come, and more. The staff look a little worried, but let every one in. I wedge myself into a corner with Evan, a volunteer. Evan says he just saw Barack Obama speak, and while he sounded wonderful, Evan left not being sure what exactly he had just said.

Finally, the Gov and his staff walk up the icy sidewalk outside. Although it’s freezing, the Gov isn’t wearing a coat, just a blue blazer and khaki pants. He has clearly lost 5 or 10 pounds from early in the year, and gives off a strong “dad” vibe for some reason. As he comes into the restaurant he starts shaking hands, beginning from the person on his left, which is me. He gives me a big hearty handshake.

Jeff steps forward and whispers that this is the blogger he mentioned yesterday, from Harvard. “Yes,” I say. “And the Bill Richardson Blog!” “Oh, great!” says the Gov. “Hi there.” And then he is gone in the crowd, shaking hands right and left. I stand on my toes to see him where he finally ends up, behind the register. It is packed like a rock concert in here.

His talk goes over incredibly well. The Gov says that in this election, there is a lot at stake for us young people, because of the federal deficit, climate change, and the future of Social Security. He hammers the importance of both international diplomacy and a broad new energy policy, two areas on which he sounds loose and expert, like he has no talking points but is instead speaking straight from his own experience. He is. He proposes we reduce our dependence on foreign oil from 65% to 10% in ten years, and gets some raised eyebrows and loud applause. I am happy to hear him mention incentives for solar roofs and green buildings.

The Gov takes as many questions as his staff will let him, and then a couple more – a recurring theme for the day. He speaks of fiscal discipline, of reinstituting pay-go, clamping down on earmarks and corporate welfare, and shifting budget priorities from war to human needs. The crowd is loving this, especially the ones who had been passing out a red pen with a pull-out chart of our current war-centric budget. Finally, Richardson asks the crowd to not get caught up in the other candidates who are “a little more glamorous, a little better looking than me – but not much,” and gets a laugh.

The crowd pours out of the café murmuring. “I liked him,” I hear one woman say. “Very sincere.” “Well, that was refreshing,” I hear someone else say. I look for Jeff to tell me how I can help out next. The Gov finishes a quick TV appearance and comes toward me.

“Harvard Law School, eh!” he says. I smile, and open my mouth, but Jeff is on a mission to not allow any more time-stealing chat. “She’ll be at the next event,” he apologizes, and the Gov is hustled into his SUV and onto Concord.

In the chaos, though, they have left behind Pablo Duran, the Gov’s New Hampshire political director. He looks a bit bereft. “Here’s how you can help,” says Jeff. “Give Pablo a ride to the Concord speech!”

Ed Morrissey is a major conservative blogger whose piece about Richardson has been getting a lot of linkage the last couple days. The gist: Uh-oh, this guy could take us DOWN in 2008:

However, the punditry and the Democrats may just be overlooking the one candidate that the Republicans should fear the most and, perhaps, Clinton should as well.

The Democrats certainly have no other candidates with Richardson’s experience and his certified centrist appeal.

Neither do the Republicans have anyone in their committed field of candidates who can match this resume, either. And that should worry the GOP, if Richardson gets close.

The GOP has a significant edge in experience at the moment, but it is an edge that will evaporate if Richardson takes the Democratic nomination. Will the Democrats be smart enough to take advantage of it?

Yes! Let’s do it.

It wasn’t that long ago that the National Review also conceded the sheer kick-ass-ness of Richardson. And I’ve had some personal conversations with Republicans where they say Richardson is so impressive that he’s the only guy they could see themselves crossing the aisle for if the GOP nominates a socially conservative nutjob.

Not because Bill’s conservative. He’s a moderate Democrat who loves the environment, renewable energy, kids’ health, investments in education, and the rest. Because he’s such a skilled leader.

Spread the word, guys: The GOP’s worst nightmare in 2008 is a guy named Bill Richardson.