Christian Schneider

Author, Columnist

Month: July 2010

The Crazy World of Independent Candidates

Since the recent news cycle has birthed us the gift of Ieshuh Griffin (aka, “Not the whiteman’s bitch), I thought I’d pass on a magazine piece I wrote about some of Wisconsin’s other more colorful independent candidates.

Read it here.

An excerpt:

[Ed] Thompson was also joined as a third party gubernatorial candidate by Mike Mangan, who campaigned wearing a gorilla suit. Mangan, a self-employed energy consultant from Waukesha, waged what he called a “guerilla attack against state spending.” Mangan criticized the state’s “King Kong deficit,” which is quite a coincidence since he happened to own a gorilla mask. (Fortunately for Mangan, the deficit wasn’t the size of a turtle, as he would have had to scramble for a new costume.) Mangan was actually a fan of Ed Thompson’s run, seeing it as a breakthrough for third parties in future races, saying, “I think he’s opening doors.”

These independent candidates represent only a small sliver of the colorful history of third party politicians in Wisconsin. In 1974, flamboyant West Milwaukee used car dealer James Groh legally changed his name to “Crazy Jim” to run for governor as an independent. Crazy Jim was a staunch advocate of legalized gambling, and frequently spun a tale of how he once played cards with Frank Sinatra in Las Vegas. At the time, the concept of legal gambling in Wisconsin seemed to be far-fetched—yet Crazy Jim turned out to be a visionary, as Wisconsin adopted a state lottery and welcomed almost unlimited Indian casino gambling by the 1990s. Crazy Jim lost to incumbent Patrick Lucey 629,000 votes to 12,100; but his family said he took solace throughout his life in the fact that he carried Waushara County. (Although he did not—records show he only garnered 47 votes in Waushara County, which placed him a distant fifth.) Crazy Jim died in 2002 of a heart attack.

In Madison, self-described “futurist” Richard H. Anderson has run for numerous offices, including state assembly, mayor, and city council. Anderson routinely ran on an “anti-mind control” platform, believing the government had planted a cybernetic chip in his brain. A self-described bisexual, Anderson fought for better treatment of minorities and, as a surprise to exactly no one, for legalized marijuana. “Just because I’m a pot head doesn’t mean I’m not qualified to hold office,” he once said. Unfortunately, the government rarely used mind control to direct voters to vote for him, as he once mustered a scant six votes in a race for the state Assembly against now-Congresswoman Tammy Baldwin. Naturally, the Progressive Capital Times newspaper said Anderson had “made a good impression.”

(One has to wonder what a debate between a “pro-mind control” and “anti-mind control” candidate is like. Presumably, the “anti” candidate would get up to speak, the “pro” candidate would glare and point his finger at them, and the “anti” candidate would sheepishly sit back down without saying a word.)

Read more here.

As a bonus gift, here’s proof that Tennessee is in good hands, courtesy of gubernatorial candidate Basil Marceaux:

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What Should Be Allowed on your F#$@ing Ballot?

People that know me well know that I love nothing more than fringe candidates.  So when I saw that today a woman was testifying in front of the state Government Accountability Board (GAB) in order to have the words “Not the whiteman’s bitch” placed under her name on the ballot, well…. DOUBLE RAINBOW.

Ieshuh Griffin, independent candidate for the 10th Assembly district, was an impressive witness.  As an independent candidate, she is entitled to have a “Statement of Principle” of up to five words placed under her name on the ballot.  It is assumed that people generally know what “Republican” and “Democrat” mean, but “Independent” could mean anything – so independent candidates are allowed to briefly clarify their platforms.

Obviously, the GAB argued that Griffin’s proposed statement of interest was obscene.  Griffin appealed to the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution to affirm her free speech rights.  She attempted to debunk the idea that “bitch” is an offensive word, pointing out that it refers to a female dog.  And she was able to quote the GAB rules, chapter and verse.  Obviously, she’s a smart woman, and knows exactly what she’s doing by challenging the GAB’s authority to censor her statement. (In fact, I’d probably vote for her – how can she be any worse than any of the other Milwaukee legislators?)

During the debate, it appeared the GAB panel of ex-judges was sympathetic to Ms. Griffin’s free speech argument.  (Of course, if some independent candidate had put “keep out illegals” as their statement, they would have been thrown off the ballot within seconds.)  An attorney for the GAB said candidate statements have been stricken from the ballot for saying things like “cut taxes,” which seems preposterous.

In the end, Ms. Griffin got a majority of the GAB board to side with her by a 3 to 2 vote.  Unfortunately, she needed four votes to win her petition, so her statement will be removed from the ballot (she said she will appeal.)

But given that her position was shot down by a group of old white guys, it makes her statement of purpose a little ironic, no?

(I’ll post the WisconsinEye video when it’s available.)

In other news, the GAB declined a GOP effort to have Congresswoman Tammy Baldwin (or, “T-Ball” as she is known amongst the youngsters) removed from the ballot for having an insufficient address on her nomination papers.  Baldwin apparently listed an office address on her papers, not her actual voting address.  Her campaign claims she was granted a security exemption, given that she is a lesbian.

Let’s back up there.  I have no knowledge of whether any threats have been made against Tammy Baldwin, and I can imagine they’re pretty horrifying.

But really?  In Madison? Of all the places on the planet you’d think would care the least about her orientation, Madison would be at the top of the list.  I’m certainly not saying her security fears are unwarranted – it’s just weird that it still happens in the most progressive town in America.

We Wuz Right On Obey

Back in May, I expressed some skepticism at Congressman Dave Obey’s stated reason for retiring from the House of Representatives after 41 years of service.  Obey said he was “bone tired,” and that he decided long ago to retire after the big health care bill passed.

The media lapped this all up, running with the “old liberal lion retires on his own terms” talking point.  But as I pointed out, this all didn’t add up, as Obey continued to raise money and conduct polls well after the health care bill passed.  At the time, I mentioned that Obey’s next finance report would truly be telling.

Well, we have it – and it confirms my suspicions.  According to Wispolitics.com’s “DC Wrap:”

Retiring U.S. Rep. Dave Obey paid more than $30,000 on polling just eight days before announcing his retirement, according to the longtime congressman’s latest filing with the FEC.

Obey announced his retirement May 5 after more than four decades in the House, saying he wanted to see health care reform passed and was simply “bone tired.” But insiders in both parties questioned the abrupt announcement during a tough election year, and Republicans suggested he may not have wanted to fight against a GOP tide and then-Ashland Co. DA Sean Duffy.

That $30,000 he spent was on top of another $30,000 he spent in the previous reporting period.  So you’re telling me Dave Obey, having already decided he was going to retire, spent $60,000 in polls for no reason?  What kinds of questions was Obey asking people in this $30,000 poll if it had NO bearing on whether he retired?

  • “In a head to head matchup: Team Edward or Team Jacob?”
  • All things being equal, who can do more push-ups: President Obama or the Green Lantern?
  • “Got any good salmon recipes?”
  • “Do you think your neighbor smells like Indian food?
  • “Would it creep you out if you knew I was conducting this poll in my bathrobe?”

Of course, Obey’s retirement is no longer newsworthy, and nobody’s going to report anything that makes them look like fools in retrospect.  But let the history books show – the voters decided they didn’t want Dave Obey – not the other way around.

Rebel Without a Pause: Behind the Scenes With Paul Ryan

Here at WPRI, we seem to be writing about Paul Ryan a lot.  People are probably starting to wonder if our acronym stands for the “Wisconsin Paul Ryan Institute.”

But much like Ron Burgundy, Ryan is kind of a big deal.  People know him.  (I was unable to determine whether his apartment smells of rich mahogany.)  So I was enlisted to write a lengthy article about his life in Washington, D.C. – which required me to make a trip out there in May to follow him around.

On May 4th, I showed up at Mitchell Airport in Milwaukee, ready for my flight out to D.C.  I was dressed as I normally am when I fly – jeans, untucked shirt, baseball cap, and about a week’s worth of beard.  Sitting in the airport, I noticed then-U.S. Senate candidate Dick Leinenkugel walk up to the gate.  A few minutes later, I saw gubernatorial candidate Scott Walker settle in nearby.  Shortly thereafter, Ryan himself joined Walker.  It then dawned on me that I was on the Tuesday morning flight that all the politicians take to get to D.C.

I walked up to Walker (who was heading to D.C. for a campaign event) and mentioned what a star-studded flight this was.  I told him I fully expected Lady Gaga to show up in the airport.  (He laughed, although I would think more highly of him if he didn’t know who Lady Gaga was.)

Despite being in the same place dozens of times, I’d never actually spoken to Ryan.  I started making small talk with him, then mentioned that I thought we were scheduled to have dinner together that night.  Suddenly, he looked concerned that this guy dressed like a hobo talking to him might be crazy.  He started frantically scrolling through his schedule on his phone, and said “oh yeah, I guess we are…  Not dressed like that, I hope.”

(I was thinking that when I showed up at his office, I should actually wear two suits at one time, just to show him how committed I was to dressing respectably.)

My time at the Capitol with Ryan is pretty well detailed in the article.  When we first met, I asked him if he even knew who I was – he said he had read some of my commentaries.  I actually felt bad about this – he should be busy fixing the world, not reading my ribald blog posts.  (Among the ones I guarantee he never read is this one featuring Ryan, in which I speculate as to what it would be like today if congressmen were allowed to endorse products, as they did in the old days.)

When Ryan was in closed door meetings, I went out and wandered around the Capitol and the Longworth House Office Building.  The building is triangular, with high ceilings, long halls and green marble floors.  On a few occasions, I spotted lobbyists standing outside congressional offices staring at the floor, muttering to themselves.  They were no doubt practicing what they were going to say during their meeting in order to convince the attending congressperson to spend my money.  I’d actually almost prefer the lobbyist just punch me in the face and take my wallet on the spot.  Then at least the feds wouldn’t get their cut off the top.

The halls of Longworth are also populated with a bloused armada of comely young women, hired no doubt because of their detailed knowledge of economics and foreign affairs.  Usually not far behind one of these women is a member of Congress, working hard to make it look like wherever they’re going, it’s really important.  Male congressmen are usually easy to spot – they’re the ones whose hair color would be laughed at if they worked anywhere but at the U.S. Capitol.  I’m convinced that if male members of Congress stopped buying men’s hair coloring products, the American economy would suffer a housing market-style collapse.

Some of the faces of these Congress members are vaguely familiar; ironic, since somewhere out there in a small slice of America, each one of them are famous.  It’s hard to believe that each one of these congressmen are actually 600,000 people looking to have their voices heard in Washington. (Although not literally, as they would need bigger pants.)

I stopped at the Longworth cafeteria to buy a soda, and when the portly African-American woman working the register rang me up, she told me it’ll be “150 dollars.”  Then she chortled heartily, and said she’s just kidding – it’s only a dollar fifty.  It’s a good joke – I felt like I was the first one she’s ever used it on – and it immediately made her a lock for the title of “friendliest federal employee in America.”

As I sat and sipped my Diet Coke, I saw Democratic Wisconsin Representative Steve Kagen, from the Green Bay area.  For the record, we did not speak – in case he goes back home and brags to his constituents that he insulted me, as he is wont to do.  (In 2006, Kagen claims he personally insulted President and First Lady Bush at a meeting for freshman members of Congress. In a strange twist, the fact that the story was false made him look even more like a classless jerk.)

Oddly, a few minutes later, I just happened to stumble upon an outdoor press conference given by Democratic Wisconsin Congressman Ron Kind.  The Wisconsin legislators appeared to be everywhere.  Kind was speaking to the media, pushing a “keeping kids from being fatties” bill.  Since Washington is essentially a swamp (both figuratively and literally), Kind was clearly wilting in his suit under the heat and humidity.

At other points during the day, I was escorted around by Ryan’s Budget Committee press secretary, 25-year old Marquette University grad Conor Sweeney.  Sweeney took me down to the Budget Committee office, which is tucked into a dark corner in the basement of the Cannon House Office Building.  As ranking member of the House Budget Committee, Ryan essentially has two offices – his eight-person member office, and another 15-person budget office, which resides in a dank dungeon in the bowels of a different office building.  The cramped office is missing ceiling tiles, and rusted pipes jut out from the walls.  It resembles a crack den.  A television above Sweeney’s desk flickers on and off as the reception fades into fuzz and pops back.  Sweeney proudly declared this office “the birthplace of the roadmap.”  I took a picture for the Smithsonian.

Later, we had to go find out where the new House media room was, in advance of Ryan’s interview with MSNBC later in the day.  Brightly colored Media Room A has been recently renovated – a podium stands atop a stage in front of American flags; about 50 media chairs sit in front.  It makes sense that Congress would revamp their media room – they need to spend money to allow them to go on television to convince the American people that they need to spend more money.

Sweeney mentions that Ryan is conducting an interview with Fox Business Channel’s John Stossel in one of the side rooms on Thursday.  The best thing about doing an interview with Stossel is that you never have to worry about him being late – his gigantic mustache gets there ten minutes before he does.

As I mentioned in the story, I was actually at the Capitol the very day that a Wisconsin political giant, liberal Congressman Dave Obey, announced his retirement.  As a political observer in Wisconsin, I felt like I should attend, just to say I was there.  But I also felt somewhat guilty – I have plenty of Democrat friends back in Wisconsin who would have killed to be there to see this – and yet it’s me, a conservative who opposes pretty much everything Dave Obey stands for, who gets to see the announcement in person.  (At the press conference, I saw my own congresswoman, Tammy Baldwin, which made it a clean sweep as far as me seeing Wisconsin Democrats.  Granted, I’m not a mind reader, but Baldwin seemed shocked and a little disoriented at the news that Obey was stepping down.)

In the piece, I mention that late in the day, we made our way to a speech Ryan was giving to a group of investment bankers at the Newseum.  Ryan drove himself, Seifert and me to the speech in his green 2003 Chevy Tahoe (built in Janesville, of course).  The power locks are broken, and Ryan complained that it would cost $400 to fix them.  (Which, even if it wasn’t true, kind of seems like a story a congressman would want told about himself.)  He is an extraordinarily adept District of Columbia driver, darting in and out of traffic as if he drove a cab. (Incidentally, the only people that love America more than Paul Ryan are Washington D.C. cab drivers.)

During the ride, we discuss baseball.  Ryan mentions that his dad was in the same University of Wisconsin-Madison fraternity as former one-legged Milwaukee Brewer manager Harvey Kuenn. Ryan says he’s only thrown out one ceremonial first pitch – at an American Legion game (it was a little high, but over the plate), but he has an encyclopedic knowledge of other famous politician first pitches.  And he is bipartisan in his criticism of awkward politician throwing motions.

In order to get an opposing view on Ryan, I made a few calls to Democrats – and actually landed an interview with Democratic House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer (who happens to be the second most powerful member of Congress at the moment.)  His staffer, former Wisconsin native Stephanie Lundberg, graciously set up ten minutes for me to talk to him by phone.  (I opened the discussion by thanking him for hiring Wisconsinites in his office – it’s helping keep our unemployment rate down.)

Sadly, my interview with Hoyer didn’t make the final cut (it was essentially replaced by my discussion of Peter Orszag, White House Budget Director.)  But here’s what appeared in the original piece:

Democratic House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer, who considers himself to be a Paul Ryan fan, disagrees with this approach.  While Hoyer told me Ryan was “bright, principled, and effective,” he also questioned whether a “supply side” proposal like Ryan’s would work.  “It’s been proven that supply-side economics don’t work,” said Hoyer, adding that “Reagan and Bush supply-side policies got us into a $4.86 billion deficit.” Hoyer did praise Ryan for his “courageous” stand, saying, he respected Ryan’s “intellectual integrity in putting forth his solutions and directions with are intellectually honest.”

I finished my final exit interview with Ryan on the morning of Thursday, May 6th, at 9:00 AM.  While I talked to him, a security guy came through his office, checking things out.  I asked Ryan what that was all about.  He mentions that his next meeting is with the head of the World Bank.  This blew my mind.  So at some point, Ryan’s schedule looked like this:

9:00 to 9:30 – Christian Schneider, lover of pizza

9:30 to 10:00 – Head of World Bank

Keep in mind – at this point, Greece was literally in flames.  The European economy was imploding – and I blame myself.  I took too long asking Ryan about what his favorite Wisconsin Dells water park was.

I had to be out of my hotel room at noon, but my flight home didn’t leave until 4:00 or so.  So I just decided to hang out in the airport all day and begin writing the story.  As I sat there with my giant headphones on, I saw a tall figure walk up next to me – I looked up, and it was Ryan, once again on my flight.  Seeing I was dressed the same way I had been on the flight out, he shook his head at me.  “At least you shaved,” he said.

***

In closing, I wanted to thank Ryan and his staff – Kevin Seifert, Conor Sweeney, Sarah Peer, and Andy Speth among them – for helping me out with the story.  Couldn’t have done it without you folks.

Also, the magazine cover painting of Ryan was done by Nathaniel Gold, whose outstanding work can be found here at his website.

Here’s one of our rejected caricatures of Ryan:

Consider the Humble Candidates: Who cares if they grew up eating dirt sandwiches?

dirt_sandwichIn an online ad, Republican congressional candidate Dan Kapanke wants you to know he’s a real guy. “Having been born and raised on a dairy farm, I have a pretty good idea of what Wisconsin people value,” says Democrat Ron Kind’s challenger for the 3rd District seat.

While it’s a nice sentiment, it’s meaningless. Growing up on a dairy farm doesn’t teach anyone anything I value. It teaches a person to milk cows and shovel manure.

This is perhaps the most annoying aspect of campaign commercials by candidates of both parties — the “I’m from humble beginnings” talking point.

Of course, the second most annoying campaign commercial stunt is the “candidate walking through a factory wearing goggles and a hard hat” shot. It’s meant to convey the candidate’s connection to the hard-working commoner — as if the only jobs that really mean anything are jobs in factories.

But you know what a really hard job is? Being a stripper. Just once, I’d like to see a Russ Feingold for Senate commercial where an adult dancer on a pole works out her frustration with the bad economy to Mötley Crüe’s “Kickstart My Heart,” while Feingold stands nearby, looking concerned (and wearing a hard hat and goggles, of course).

Even more ridiculous than the “I feel the pain of the working man” candidates are the ones who pretend they grew up poor. You know, their parents took them to McDonald’s, and all they could order was a large napkin and a small straw.

Now it’s true that there are things to be admired in coming from humble beginnings. It teaches some people to value simple pleasures, and it gives them a sense of what manual labor is really like.

But let’s face it, among people who grow up in trailer parks, the number who end up taking paternity tests on the “Maury Povich Show” outstrips congressmen by about 1.2 million to one. Yet voters seem to associate growing up poor as evidence of character and accomplishment.

I, for one, don’t really care about a candidate’s life story. I care what’s in his or her future. If a rich kid goes to really great schools, takes advantage of learning from the best teachers, and emerges a bright and energetic adult, that’s a thing to be admired.

Yet you never see a campaign ad that begins with the words, “I overcame growing up rich….”

Should we discount Congresswoman Tammy Baldwin because she was raised in a well-educated household with two UW-Madison faculty grandparents? Should we think any less of Congressman Jim Sensenbrenner because his great-grandfather founded Kimberly-Clark? Is Sen. Russ Feingold any less electable because his father was a big-shot attorney?

Of course, the answer is no. In fact, the inverse is true, as well. When I drive by a house with a car up on blocks in the front yard, it doesn’t compel me to walk up to the guy in the wife-beater t-shirt on the front porch, hand him my wallet, and trust him to spend my money wisely.

Here’s a message to candidates: We don’t care if you grew up eating dirt sandwiches. We do, however, care if you understand economics, foreign policy and the limits of do-goodism.

If all else fails, candidates should consider the fearsome lesson of John Edwards, whose treacly claim of moral and political goodness because he grew up poor as “the son of a mill worker” was not exactly convincing.

The millionaire trial attorney proved himself to be a world-class scumbag when he fathered a child out of wedlock while his wife, Elizabeth, was battling breast cancer.

Maybe someday his fatherless two-year-old daughter can use her story of overcoming adversity to run for Congress herself. Or she could end up in a Russ Feingold stripper commercial. Let’s hope she chooses the more admirable career path — and decides to strap on the heels and work the pole.