Cosmic Tumblers

Yesterday, with a group of McAdamites, the subject came up of whether any of us had voted in a presidential election for a Republican candidate. Ashley Sumner, our communications director, responded first, "Yes," she said sheepishly, "the first time I was eligible to vote Bush ran against Kerry, and I voted for Bush."

I was immediately contorted in a display of writhing agony. "No, no, no..." I cried out, "say it is not so!"

There is no secret I'm a loyal Democrat, but even so Ashley was surprised by the vehemence of my response. "I know, I know," she apologized, "if I had it to do all over..."

I interrupted her before she could elaborate, "No Ashley, my pain has nothing to do with for whom you first voted, it has everything to do with when. God girl, that election was yesterday!"

Someday she will understand.

.....

Speaking of Ashley, later that morning we were walking in the direction of her car. We had a distance to go and there ensued a long moment of silence, each of us thinking our own private thoughts. Suddenly, she made a statement apropos to nothing we had discussed before. "We're going to win this," she said in a matter of fact tone.

My mind was in an alternate universe so I didn't immediately make the connection. "What?" I asked.

"We're going to win the election," she said, as if reading aloud a text newly received from the board of elections.

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes."

"You've worked on campaigns before, ever feel this same way?"

"No, never."

My first instinct was to caution against blind optimism, but when I reached into my pocket for a flashing yellow light it wasn't there. "I think you're right," I replied.

None of this is based on verifiable evidence. There are no polls that would support such a conclusion. Yet, in that moment, there was a shared sense that cosmic tumblers had turned and something had fallen into place.

Was it simply wishful thinking? Or did the weight of a thousand sensory inputs reveal something analysis never could?

Perhaps we'll never know, but I'm guessing November 6th will offer nothing to end that speculation.

A Gift for Unity

On Saturday I met with Republicans canvassing for Ben in Sandy. While there I had a chance to speak with Russ Wall, the mayor of Taylorsville. He was going door to door despite a foot injury forcing him to roll along on what looked like a child's scooter.

Russ' disability, and the pain it must cause, made his participation heroic. However, with a mug and a physical presence matched to a boxing ring, his scooter was an especially comic touch.

......

While there I heard Ben had received a strong endorsement in the Tribune. Quickly I whipped out my phone and read it. "Absolutely perfect!" I said to those waiting to share glad tidings of Ben's campaign.

"Perfect?" someone asked.

"Sure. It starts with 'Ben for Mayor,' and then suggests 'Ben for King' somewhere down the line. It ends by calling Crockett 'combative,' and 'a technocrat who prefers numbers to people.' Hard to beat that."

Someone offered the observation. "You know, the county council is majority Republican and none of them have endorsed Crockett."

Now there's an intriguing fact, I thought. Like so much else in this contest, there's as much to learn from what's happening for Ben, as from what is not happening for Crockett.

......

Before I let go of those Sandy Republicans, let me offer a deathless line overheard within their company, "Mark Crockett is the Rocky Anderson of the Republican Party."

Those of us who first heard it were obliged to laugh. The meaning of course is that Crockett is ideologically scripted and needlessly provocative.

Later, when Club McAdams gathered at Sugarhouse Park for a political event, we were still laughing about that characterization. Then, for a brief moment, it appeared a wonderful opportunity might present itself.

Crockett and Anderson both showed up for this same event. Our cabal of campaign underlings were counting on Rocky's famous sense of humor, so could we engineer a photo op of Anderson endorsing Crockett?

It would all depend on Rocky, since Crockett does not share equal fame for self deprecatory humor. I spent a long while with our former mayor hoping to find a seque to this delicate request. Finally, I brought up the subject of Crockett thinking the conversation might play out according to my own agenda.

Unfortunately, the word "Crockett" has the same aroma for Rocky that garlic does for Dracula - and it has nothing to do with politics. It seems that during the Republican convention Rocky and Crockett were scheduled for a joint media appearance. Then, at the last moment, Crockett blew it off with no excuse.

Rocky was incensed by the brazen arrogance of such an act.

The Trotsky of University Gardens lost his trademark sense of humor. I commiserated with him, and described a similar snub Crockett offered to Doug Wright of KSL. "It's nothing personal," I assured him, "Crockett behaves the same way with all human beings."

For a moment I came to doubt Ben's famous advantage in this campaign. Everyone lauds him for reaching across vast political divides to build consensus. And yet, it seems, Crockett has a similar gift for uniting the most unlikely people in a common opinion.

The Real Story

Today Mayor Corroon officially endorsed Ben McAdams. 

Hey, I love the mayor, and I welcome his support, but is anyone surprised?

I doubt it.

For a while now Ben's campaign has had to ask prominent politicians endorsing Ben to take a number and get in line. And that's just the Republicans. 

What really shocks me is that this photo shows a scrum of cameramen taping Corroon's blessing. I would have assumed by now the only newsworthy endorsement for Ben would come from the governor's office. 

Concerning endorsements, however, there is a noteworthy story that isn't yet getting much coverage. Why? Well, because it's about the proverbial dog that didn't bark.

The real story is fast becoming not who will endorse Ben, because virtually everyone has, but who will endorse Crockett?

We're living in the most Republican state in the union, and there are scores of elected Republican leaders. Yet, the names of the very few who have given Crockett their approval is becoming a trivia contest. (Quick, besides Mike Winder, who can you name?) 

The paucity of Republican leaders willing to attach their name to his brand is startling. But even more shocking is the underwhelming level of enthusiasm of those who have. Where are the letters? Where are the photo ops? Where are the donations?

Recently Mike Winder put a picture that featured Ben on his Facebook page. It was taken during the first broadcast debate between the mayoral candidates. Winder commented that he was there, "watching my friends Mark Crockett and Ben McAdams." (emphasis mine) 

This note of equanimity didn't go unnoticed by Crockett. Below the photo he replied, "Thanks Mike for your support," In this context it seemed almost pathetic, as if Crockett felt obliged to remind people whom Winder loved best. 

Indeed, it seems ironic that the very person whom Crockett once labored to characterize as slick and untrustworthy is now his only significant Republican patron.  

The Missing Piece

This past week Ben introduced his "Ben's Fiscal Fitness Diet." It is his plan for slimming down county expenses and putting the pinch on expenditures. No campaign should act like a government in waiting, so administrative detail is left to the moment of taking office. However, Ben's plan provides a clear strategy with concrete goals.  

He advocates a comprehensive performance review with the intention of trimming 5% from county expenditures. Additionally, Ben proposes five additional initiatiaves that would yield cost savings which are undetermined. 

So there you have it; cuts that should amount to at least 5%, and the voters are invited to hold him to it. 

Crockett's plan? So far as I can tell there is no specific objective he's willing to share. However, in an appearance before the Young Republicans a few weeks ago he proposed a method for downsizing county government. He would give retired businessmen the power to streamline county agencies without the participation of the bureaucrats held accountable for the success of those agencies. 

That's right, he would specifically exclude county managers from the restructuring process. 

It does sound crazy, giving a retired NuSkin executive the power to transform the county jail, but that crazyness speaks to a fundamental point about Mark Crockett.

He poses as an experienced business executive, but that's not who or what he is. He's a business consultant who dances into town with cost saving theories. Then he gives an agency or a department a quick review before offering a power point presentation that calls for butchering programs with which he has no experience and could never manage. 

Once he's safely out of town he sends an invoice for a nice fat fee. However, Crockett plays no part in actually executing these proposals. By the time someone needs to be held accountable, Mark Crockett is ancient history. 

However, this "consultant" criticized Ben's cost saving initiative. In the Trib he was quoted as saying, "70 to 80 percent of the time these efforts fail [because] they are really complicated... If you're going to reform a nearly $1 billion budget you should have the skill set to do that. And that's what I have."

No, that's not the skill set Mark Crockett has.

The skill set required to make any initiative succeed is called leadership. So what, besides an absence of accountability in his business background, argues against Crockett's claims of successful leadership?

• He's a one term member of the county council turned out of office by an opponent with no political experience
• Most of the Republican city mayors in Salt Lake County have endorsed Ben McAdams
• The current Republican members ot the county council repudiate Crockett's depiction of county finances

Yes, Crockett has plenty of experience advocating radical proposals, but where is his track record in building consensus, achieving results, and accepting accountability?

That, dear voter, is the missing piece. 

Moving The Hand Past Six

What can you learn from a report about campaign contributions?

Today the Trib surveyed the latest report on campaign contributions in the race for County Mayor. The big story was that Ben out raised Mark Crockett since June by a factor of two to one. (Before June the story was similarly lopsided in Ben's favor.) 

That's good news for McAdamsville. 

But what else is there to learn from that article?

• Five times as many people have contributed to Ben's campaign as they have to Crockett's. 
• By far the largest contributor to Crockett's campaign is Crockett himself, with about a third of total contributions coming from his own bank account. 

However, there remains one stubborn fact. The latest poll, which is a rough thumbnail estimate, places Ben seven points behind. 

How can that all add up?

Imagine a pie chart that is the face of a clock divided into three segments...

1. A large and growing segment is composed of Ben's supporters
2. One much smaller fraction is made up of Crockett supporters
3. A second very large fraction is make up of those who, in the absence of knowing either candidate, will vote Republican 

Right now, if #2 is added to #3, Crockett has a lead of 7%. The Challenge for Ben is to move the hands far enough so that #1 fills over half the clock.

What moves the hands? We know the overwhelming majority of people who learn about Ben like him, and will vote for him. So, introducing Ben to the voters is essential. 

The power to make those introductions comes from money. And yes, Ben has raised over twice as much as Crockett, but there is a cloud to that silver lining. The $571,000 Ben has collected is about half what he needs to run the optimum campaign. 

So, if you look at Ben's huge lead in raising money, and then assume he's got all the cash he needs, you're mistaken. In fact, he needs most of us to double down on our generoisty. To put it on a personal level, if you haven't yet given $3,000, then Ben needs as much as you've given so far, and as quickly as possible. 

Small Moments

A political campaign, like life itself, is a stream of small moments. Tiny incidents are the current, and they flow around major events as if they were stones in a stream. 

Here are a few of those small moments. 

.....

On Thursday of last week some of Ben's family arrived at the office toward evening.

 Their arrival wasn't scheduled, and in fact Ben wasn't there to greet them. The group included his mother, Susan, and two sisters, Jackie and Becky. 

Ben has a reputation with the staff and volunteers as the ultimate nice guy. Virtually all of us came on board because we agreed with one or another of his political positions. We're still there, and working crazy hours,  because long ago position papers gave way to profound respect and affection.

So I asked Becky if he was always this easy to like? Did Ben play this same sainted role in his family that he now enjoys in the campaign?

"Are you kidding?"she replied, "I was happy we had a hard back edition of the Book of Mormon. It gave me something substantial to throw at him."  

Then she sat down and tirelessly made calls in his behalf until 9:00 PM. 

.....

Half-way through that same evening I thought Ben's mother, Susan, could use a break. And besides, I wanted to share something that might show off her son in a good light. 

Once her present call concluded I walked over to her, "Hey, I'd like to show you something." 

I took her back to the conference room. On the wall was a whiteboard that should have been erased, but it still showed Ben's schedule. It didn't leave an hour with less than three places to be, and there were were fundraising objectives, specified by the hour, which seemed especially aggressive. 

I assumed she would be flabbergasted and filled with pride by all he was doing. Instead, she looked at this proof of an overly programmed life like she'd seen it all before. It was nothing remarkable or even worthy of sympathy. 

She looked at me with a deadpan expression and said, "You know who I think is the real hero? It's Ben's wife, Julie. She's brilliant and totally selfless when it comes to supporting Ben."

Then she walked away looking for that phone from which I'd taken her. She sat down and dialed her next call.

......

Late Saturday afternoon I was sitting in the office of Joel Freston, our field director. Joel is famous for working like a man in a flood sandbagging his own home. I asked if he was taking care of himself? 

"Yes," he said over the lid of his laptop, trying to multi-task our conversation.

"Measure yourself," I cautioned.

Then he dropped his hands from the keyboard and engaged me directly. "I know," he said, "a campaign is filled with more things in a day than anyone can possibly do. And maybe it's crazy to try. But the good part is that very same thing."

"How so," I asked.

"Well there is always something to do. Every day is filled with a thousand of those somethings."

"Joel, life is like that," I argued, "not just campaigns."

"No," he insisted, "campaigns are different. They accelerate until one morning in November you wake up and it's over. If you didn't win you feel miserable knowing there's nothing - not a single thing - you can do about it. You look back at all those days with so many things that needed to be done, and you're filled with longing." 

If I were running for political office, I'd want Joel working for me. If I were selling health insurance, I doubt I'd call him.

Avenues Street Fair

Avenues Street Fair

On Saturday I helped staff our booth at the Avenues Street Fair. I've attended many fairs, in many places, and this is the zenith of street fairs. The booths are filled with creativity and they're visited by crowds that are a delight to watch. 

Of course, one of those booths contained orange t-shirts announcing that Ben McAdams is different. (Odd, whenever that's said about me it's never a complement.)

Most of my time I sat in the company of Ryan Curtis. He's a young bear of a fellow who gives more time to the campaign than I give to day dreaming about my next meal - and that's a lot of time. He has a reputation as king of the telephone and routinely squares a call objective the rest of us struggle to meet. 

However, he is unassuming and McAdamsville is filled with highly verbal and animated people. Therefore, Ryan is easy to ignore and under-estimate. I'm not sure which of those is the bigger error. Ryan's brain is a full-time fact checker. 

Ryan Curtis (center)

Making conversation with Ryan I shared my hope that Hillary would one day run for President. Then I tossed off a guess as if it were gospel. "At the end of Obama's second term," I decreed, "she'll be a lot younger than Reagan when he became President."

Ryan's head turned and he gave a quizzical look. "Not really, Reagan was seventy when he took office, and Hillary would be seventy if she's inaugurated in 2017."

I let a beat or two pass while I descended from Mount Olympus, "Are you sure?" I said, never guessing my factoid would be challenged. 

"Do the math," he replied, "Reagan was born in 1911, and Hillary in 1947."

"They'd be the same age?" I inquired, weakly. 

"Yes," he replied, as if reporting that Columbus sailed in 1492. 

Then he noticed an expression on my face half-way between embarrassment and humility. "Give or take a few months," he said reassuringly, "she might be a little younger." 

His consolation only had the effect of making me feel older than the Gipper - the day he left office.

The Week That Was

This photo is on the Crockett Facebook page. I've taken liberty with what appears to be the unhappiest group of Republicans on planet earth. It was purportedly taken at a yard party, but it could just as easily be a funeral.

.....

As you know this past week was dedicated to playing the role of a staffer. Now the pros are back in town so my cameo role comes to an end. My week was spent making phone calls using a program that displays a profile of the person we're hoping to contact. 

Out of those hundreds of calls let me offer three that were particularly memorable. 

One

After a string of unanswered attempts a man answered the phone. I glanced at the screen and realized he was an elected Republican official. There had to be a mistake. Would my next call be to Orrin Hatch? 

I played dumb, which for me is not a stretch. Following my canned pitch I asked if he could volunteer. (That's when I winced.) "Sure," he said, "I like Ben. What do you want me to do?" 

"We have a huge demand for yard signs," I said tentitively, "and we're behind with delivery, could you help with that?" 

"Sure," he said, "but next week there's a council meeting, after that a party get-together. Would later this week be alright?"

"Yes," I replied, "It would be fine." 

And so he came, and so he delivered. Never let it be said Republicans don't follow through. 

Two

The phone rang and a woman anwered. I recited my appeal and she responded with kind words. "Could you volunteer? I asked. 

She answered in a definite tone, "I'm a doctor and a single mother. I have sixty-hour weeks and get only Wednesdays off. I'm on call at three hospitals."

"Point made," I said, "a yard sign would be more than enough."

There was a significant pause before she continued, "No, I should do this. Put me down for Wednesday of next week." 

Three

A woman picked up. After my introduction she replied with praise for Ben. "Could you volunteer?" I asked.

"No," she said, "I'm taking physics and chemistry this semester. I'm hoping to graduate in June with a degree in geology." 

I referred to her profile and chuckled at the obvious mistake, "Our database says you're eighty-five years old."

"Exactly," she said. "that's why I have to hurry up and graduate."

The Telling Detail

Once I dated a girl in college whose beauty was out of my league. I remember feeling lucky, and that sense of good fortune was based entirely on her looks.

Perhaps a week after that relationship began, we were walking hand in hand down a sidewalk. Distracted by one another's company we lacked the intentionality that comes with paying attention.

Then, in front of us, appeared a fuzzy green caterpillar inching its way across the sidewalk; its path out of synch with our natural stride so that our step would leave it unharmed. 

However, this young woman, out of habit, broke her stide and left a green stain on the sidewalk. Here was implied the very brief future we had ahead of us.

That's called the telling detail. 

It's a small thing, revealed without calculation, that has the power to indicate something more profound

So it was with Ben at the Labor Day Picnic.

In a previous post I described, tongue in cheek, how busy we were that day. In fact, we were extremely busy. The task of preparing and giving away cotton candy to a sea of children is no small thing. We had two tubs spinning, but five tubs would have been too few. The challenge was impossible. 

Of course, Ben was there. After all, it was the McAdams booth. It was our contribution to the event - an event designed, by us, to show off Ben. His role was the grand signeur, the benefactor, the face attached to all that generosity. 

Then, about an hour after Ben arrived, it occured to me; Ben's invisible, his head is buried in a tub of pink confectioners thread feeding the shuttle to a long line of families. He was clueless that his interests were best served at the other end of that shuttle. 

Ben's sole intention was keeping up with the demand, no matter what place he took in making that happen. 

Finally I tapped him on the shoulder, pointed toward the counter and said, "You belong there, I'll do this."

He looked up, realized the wisdom of my advice, and surrendered the tub. 

There's the telling detail, that small bit of unconscious truth revealing something more profound. In that instant was contained every reason why I'm attached to this candidate, and to this campaign. 

A Fat Ugly Lie

Today was my first day impersonating a staffer. I bicycled to the office at 10:00 AM and presented myself for inspection. "What would you have me do?" I asked.

Joel thought making phone calls would be nice. Of course, Joel always thinks making phone calls would be nice. So Martha sat me down at a desk, accessed a computer list, and I set about making call after call to prosepective volunteers. 

As one of those volunteers I've made similar calls. I'd arrive at the office, work a couple hours, then stand up from my desk, grandly announce my departure, and leave to effusive praise feeling like a hero.

I know the drill. 

Except today a couple hours came and went, it was still 12:00 o'clock, and I had another eight hours to go. 

Eventually I enquired, "Hey Ryan, how may calls are we expected to make in a day?"

"At least one hundred and ten," he said, in a tone that was flat and factual. 

I swallowed hard and returned to my list with grim determination. 

After a respectable time, I paused once again, "Hey Ryan, have any idea how many calls I've made?"

"I could check," he said. 

I was sure my laser like focus would yield an impressive number. "Sure," I said, "please do."

His fingers touched a few keys and a fat ugly lie popped up on his screen. "Fifty-eight," he replied. with that same monotone voice?

"Fifty-eight?" I replied weakly, "are you sure?"

"Yep, fifty-eight." he said, "With a .625% success rate."

I almost asked, "Is that good?" but his expression prevented the question from ever being offered.

Day one yielded an important lesson. It's only right so much praise and glory are given to campaign staffers, because their job sure isn't easy. 

Pretty in Pink

Lesson one about being on a campaign, or at least a field staffer on a campaign: there are no holidays (at least not for you, and not for the candidate.)

Today I was assigned to the AFLCIO Labor Day picnic in Magna. If I had been Ben, this would have been one of several places to be, but my role was confined to that one event. 

When I first sighted the booth I was filled with excitement. There was a line leading to it at least a hundred feet long filled with families eager for the front. "Wow!" I thought, Ben's popularity in Magna is huge! 

Then, when I got to the booth itself, I found two large spinning tubs filled with pink gosamer thread, orange shirted volunteers spinning as fast as the tubs, and a huge sign reading "FREE COTTON CANDY."

When the volunteers caught sight of me their unanimous expression was "Help!"

Never in my life had I made cotton candy. This moment had the feel of joining a circus fifteen minutes into a show and being told, "You're the clown."

Under the best of circumstances the creation of cotton candy is not a neat affair. When you have no idea what you're doing, soon you resemble a giant sized version of the very thing you're handing out. By the time my shift was over the incredible hulk could have picked me up, placed me against a wall, and I would have stuck there. 

Never the less, everyone should do it at least once. Only Santa Claus gets to make this many kids happy in such a short period of time. And there's the additional advantage of watching a candidate, wrapped up like a fly in a web of pink sugar, trying to convince people they should vote for him. 

A Week in McAdamsville

This should be interesting.

Until today I've been an unpaid volunteer dodging in and out of the campaign. This week we're short staffed with TJ and Justin going to the convention. So I've taken a week's vacation and I'll be functioning as a full-time staff member (or, more accurately, I'll be functioning as a full-time gopher for the actual staff.) 

I'm still unpaid, but this opportunity offers special advantages. 

For instance, while our dear campaign manager is in Charlotte, I'll attempt to rifle though his desk and blog about campaign secrets. Next, I'll find the keys to our red school bus and take it out for a joy ride. Finally, I'll hack our computer and change the tag-lines to our "Yeah, he's different" billboard campaign. I'm thinking...

• "Small carbon footprint, eats gridlock for breakfast."
• "Never throws a tantrum, yet gets what he wants."
• "Doesn't own a business, just works for a living." 
  

If you have any additional ideas, just leave them as comments. 

For this week I intend to leave more frequent, but far shorter posts. My hope is to offer a glance of the campaign as a fully involved member of the staff.  

Therefore, I'll tweet new entries from @geopence, but I won't overload my Facebook page with McAdams Apple announcements. If you're not a subscriber to my tweets (which would include the world's population, minus three) simply check back here at McAdams Apple and you'll find new posts. 

Have a great week, I'm sure I will!

The Campaign Today

Where is the McAdams' campaign today?

If you're on the inside of this wonderful adventure, it would be hard to fault anything. There is plentiful and enthusiastic volunteer support, and we have a hard working candidate with a great record of effectiveness who relates well to people of both parties. 

The management of the campaign is strong and effective. 

We're also blessed with a flawed opponent who is everything Ben is not. Mark Crockett is quick to anger, awkward with people and adverse to fund raising and retail politics. He's an ideologue with a doctrinaire approach that resists inclusion, compromise or decent listening skills. 

His greatest detractors are the very Republican leaders who know him best. 

Unfortunately, we're in an enviornment that's poles apart from the familiarity shared by those Republican leaders. The vast majority of the electorate know nothing about Ben McAdams or Mark Crockett. Most people couldn't identify either one as a candidate if they met them at the grocery store, exchanged names, and shook hands. 

That lack of acquaintance works well for Mark Crockett, but it's poison for Ben McAdams. 

Most Salt Lake County voters self-identify as conservative, and their default party of choice is the Republican party. When they walk into the voting booth, if all they know is their respective party affilitation, then Crockett wins. 

I'd guess that if the election were held today that's what would happen.. 

Now for the good news.

• The election will not be held today
• That sense of default Republican preference is both broad and shallow
• Over the next sixty days every ounce of public knowlege, about either candidate, will amount to an additional ounce of support for Ben McAdams

What needs to happen for Ben to win? Simply put, between now and election day, every means of informing the electorate must be exploited. A lapel pin, or a bumper sticker is no small thing. Letters to the editor are gold. A public venue featuring both candidates is the motherlode. The ability to advertise on television would be a huge plus

What course of action is to Crockett's advantage? Exactly what he's doing right now... nothing. The better he's able to keep this race a secret, the better his odds of success. 

For Crockett, the strategy he used in the primary is both similar to, and different from, the strategy he needs today. The part that's similar is maintaining public ignorance of his record and persona. The part that's different is making his opponent's character the focus of his campaign. Now, in this race, that effort would be suicide.

My prediction? Oddly, it is similar to what happened in that very same Republican primary. Ben will be close, but probably trail until late October. Then, when public attention becomes focused, and bits of information start to trace the outline of public preference, Ben will surge ahead. 

That's my prediction. My guarantee? It will be exciting until the very end!

GO BEN