Outsider in the White House (23 page)

Predictably, the rise of Dole and Kemp in the polls was ephemeral. Two weeks later, when the Democrats got their four or five days in the limelight, the Dole-Kemp surge evaporated. Clinton is now back to where he was before the conventions—fifteen points ahead.

At both conventions there was a general acknowledgment on the part of the Republican and Democratic leaders alike that it was not in their best interests to allow serious discussion on the most important issues facing the American people. Both parties put on well-produced TV shows. Each had a different focus, but both were in complete agreement that debate on the problems facing America was not something they were going to get into.

The Democratic convention was heavily scripted and entirely poll-driven. They made emotional appeals on several issues where the polls showed they had significant support. Seventy-five percent of the people support the ban on assault weapons. So they focused on the tragedy of Jim Brady, and support for gun control.

Christopher Reeves is a very popular actor, handsome and articulate, so his accident and paralysis became a major focus of their convention. So, too, did the issue of cigarette smoking, especially among the young. This is a serious health concern, and Clinton and Gore deserve credit for addressing it—although how far they will really go in taking on the tobacco industry remains to be seen. But it is only one small part of the health care crisis in America. The fact that it is a relatively easy one politically—you lose the votes of a few thousand tobacco farmers in return for those of millions of parents—made it
the
central health care issue the Democrats addressed.

Perhaps more remarkable were the issues
not
talked about. There was virtually no discussion of class, despite the fact that we have the most unequal distribution of wealth and income in the industrialized world, and real wages of workers continue to fall. There was no discussion of our huge trade deficit, nor of corporate investment in China, Mexico, and other Third World countries, which is causing the loss of millions of decent-paying jobs. There was no mention of the fragility of a democracy in which half the people no longer vote and have given up on the political process.

And what about health care? Three years before, Clinton and the Democrats had raised the banner high for a universal health care system that covers all Americans. At the time, I disagreed with the details of their proposal, but the Democrats deserved credit for at least addressing this issue of critical importance to tens of millions of Americans. The health care crisis is now
worse
than it was three years ago. More people are uninsured or underinsured. More people have less choice of providers as medicine becomes more and more corporatized. During the convention the best the Democrats were willing to allow was that at some undetermined time, in some undetermined way, we should try to provide coverage for children. That was the sum total of their commitment.

In a convention that focused on gun control, smoking, and the personal tragedy of a popular actor, most of the important issues facing the American people were ignored. The vast majority of Americans reject the right-wing extremism of the Republican Party. The Democrats held a convention that refused to address the most important issues facing the middle class and working families of the country. Is it any wonder that most people don't vote and have lost interest in politics? Is it any wonder that the United States faces a major crisis regarding the viability of our democracy?

Watching the convention coverage, it was hard to decide which was worse—the speeches on the floor or the “analysis” by the media pundits. David Brinkley, for instance, complained that President Clinton's acceptance speech dragged on too long, lasting more than an hour. Imagine—at a time when the average American watches forty hours of television a week, fifty-two weeks a year, Brinkley's main concern was that the president of the United States, and candidate for reelection, spoke for more than an hour on the future of the nation. What a profound analysis. And they pay him for saying things like that.

Although I agree with his critique of American trade policy and his opposition to NAFTA, I am no great fan of Ross Perot. There's no way he would be a major political leader if he weren't a billionaire. But I think that he is getting a bum rap from the media when they refer to his half-hour speeches as “infomercials” and make fun of his use of charts. Instead of putting thirty-second attack ads on the air, he is trying to seriously discuss some of the most important issues facing the country. You may not agree with his analysis or his conclusions, but at least he's treating the American people with some respect. What's wrong with that?

During the summer and fall, there are a large number of parades in Vermont—from one end of the state to the other. Fortunately for me, I love parades—I always have, even as a kid. I try to participate in as many as possible. Not only is it good politics, because you get to see and talk to a lot of people, but it's a helluva lot of fun. Parents and their kids lining the streets. The high school and military bands. The fife-and-drum corps. The Scottish bagpipes. The country-music dancers. The Girl Scouts and the Little Leagues. The fire trucks. The antique cars. People dressed in Civil War outfits. The Shriners driving around in their tiny go-carts.

From the town of Brattleboro, to Middlebury, to Vergennes, to Essex Junction, to Lyndonville, to St. Johnsbury, to Windsor, to Burlington, to Rutland, to Swanton, to Waitsfield, to Barre, to Montpelier, to Bellows Falls, to Bradford, to Irasburg, to Springfield, to Woodstock, to Newport, to Brandon, to Enosburg Falls, to White River Junction, to St. Albans—I've marched in all their parades, and dozens more. And I enjoy it every time.

Yesterday was Labor Day. I went, as I almost always do, to the Labor Day Parade in Northfield, Vermont. It is one of the larger parades in the state, and certainly the largest on this holiday commemorating workers and their labor. Some 10,000 people are there, either participating in the parade or lining the streets to watch.

Over the past few years, progressives and union activists have made a concerted effort to involve workers and labor unions in the Labor Day parade. Just a few years ago there was virtually no union involvement. But yesterday several hundred workers from Vermont's unions joined in. That may not seem like a large number, but Vermont isn't a major union state, and for us it was a terrific presence.

It was nice to see a whole lot of kids and spouses there. That's how you construct a movement, build a political presence: one step at a time, adding person to person until you have involved enough people to make a difference on the political landscape.

It gave me a strong feeling of solidarity, that most important of all political emotions, as I marched together with them. After the parade, the Vermont Association of Letter Carriers sponsored a roast beef dinner on the green. We ate, played some football with the kids, and had a great time.

There was very strong support for my candidacy among the thousands who lined the sidewalk. Our campaign supporters were getting rid of buttons and bumper stickers as fast as they could get them into their hands. Parades are a pretty good indicator of what's happening politically. And the response at Northheld was strong and positive—with almost no negativity.

Labor Day weekend is not only a time for parades, it is a time for the largest fair in Vermont. Throughout August I have been attending county fairs all over the state, and talking to thousands of Vermonters. In addition to my presence, “Sanders for Congress” has booths manned by volunteers at almost all the fairs—and we are giving away large amounts of literature and campaign paraphernalia. Fairs are probably the best places to make contact with Vermonters.

County fairs have been going on in Vermont for well over a hundred years. Originally, they were large agricultural exhibitions, an opportunity for farmers to learn about new products and techniques. Today, obviously, they are much changed and more commercialized and entertainment-oriented, but the agriculture component remains strong in a number of them. At the Barton Fair, at the Rutland Fair, and at most other fairs, boys and girls still exhibit their prize cows. The 4-H clubs are out in full strength. New tractors and other farm equipment are on display. At the Champlain Valley Fair, Huck Gutman has won a number of blue ribbons for his outstanding tomatoes.

Depending on the fair, there are also ox-pulling contests, balloon rides, demolition derbies, horse racing, pig races, spitting contests, professional wrestling, parades, exhibition halls, bingo and other games of chance.

The most “notorious” fair in the state, and the last major fair of the season, is the “Tunbridge World's Fair.” Well, what can I say about the Tunbridge World's Fair? Let's just mention that, among other exciting activities, they have a beer hall. I believe that I'm one of the few politicians in the state to campaign
inside
that beer hall. Or at least who lived to talk about it.

This year the Tunbridge World's Fair celebrated its now famous hometown movie star, Fred Tuttle. Fred, now seventy-eight, milked cows in Tunbridge for most of his life before being discovered by his neighbor, filmmaker John O'Brien. (John's dad, Bob O'Brien, was a friend of mine who was a state senator from Orange County in the 1970s.) John made a hysterically funny (fictional) film about Fred and his run for Congress called
Man with a Plan
. It played for months in Vermont's movie theaters and is being shown around the country. Now that Fred has been featured on the front page of the
New York Times
, appeared on the
Late Night with Conan O'Brien
TV show, and was fêted by the congressional delegation in Washington, the local folks don't know what to do with him anymore. In fact, Fred was at the first congressional debate of the campaign between Sweetser, Long, and me. Guess who got all the attention?

The largest fair in the state is the Champlain Valley Fair, in Essex Junction, which in a little over a week draws close to 300,000 people (although obviously some of these are repeat visitors) in this state of less than 600,000. It is far and away the largest single attraction for Vermonters each year. During several nights at the fair, some of the best known names in country music perform—before huge crowds. There are also all kinds of rides and games for the kids.

At the fair, which is in my home county and only five miles from Burlington, I walk around, shake hands, and talk to people who freely offer opinions on every conceivable issue. Interestingly, much of what I hear about has nothing to do with Congress, but concerns over high property taxes, a state issue.

Our booth is fully staffed with volunteers—senior citizens and long-haired young people, veterans and peace activists, trade unionists and women's advocates—reflecting the diversity of our coalition. The heart of our campaign is in that booth, and they do a terrific job.

Perhaps the most active volunteer at the fair is Ed Walton, a disabled Vietnam veteran. I met Ed last year at a conference for veterans organized by my congressional office. Ed lives in Bristol, about an hour away from Essex Junction, and stays with relatives in Essex during the fair. Every day, first thing in the morning, he helps set up the booth, and makes certain that it is covered throughout the day. When no one else can take a shift, Ed does. It makes me extremely proud that people like Ed are supporting my candidacy.

As I walk around the fair, I can sense that our support is strong. While this is a different part of the state, it reinforces the feeling I got from the Labor Day parade in Northfield—there is a lot of good feeling out there, and things appear to be going well.

Any good politician develops that extra sense. You can look into people's eyes, shake hands, say hello, and after a few hours, develop a real feeling about how things are going politically. At a fair, or other public place, when people bump into you unexpectedly, their feelings are transparent—right on their sleeves. There you are, right in front of them, and they don't have time to hide their emotions. If they like you and what you're doing, they smile and are happy to meet you. If they're not feeling good about you, their eyes don't meet yours, and they look away. Sometimes people are rude and overtly hostile. But that's very rare in Vermont. Most people in Vermont are very civil, even when they don't agree with you.

And let me tell you. The feelings out there this time are much different than they were two years ago, in 1994— when I only won by three points in the midst of the Republican tidal wave. Why is that? I don't know. The economy is better. The anti-Clinton hysteria has died down. The NRA is quieter. Most importantly, I think, people are concerned about the Gingrich agenda and the right-wing extremism he represents. I believe that they appreciate my willingness to stand up for them, and against the savage cuts that the Republicans are proposing.

My sense that things are going well is borne out by a more “objective” measure. Recently, a new poll appeared in the
Burlington Free Press
, the largest paper in the state. It had us at 47 percent, Sweetser 24 percent, Long 8 percent. (The rest are undecided or are supporting another candidate. There are a total of seven candidates in the race.) That's a very good poll for us because it suggests not only that we have a large lead, but that we're going up and Sweetser is going nowhere. While 47 percent is not necessarily a great number for a well-known incumbent like me, 24 percent is a poor number for an establishment Republican at this time of the campaign—especially one who has spent big bucks on TV ads.

For whatever reason, the Sweetser campaign is not clicking. Peter Freyne, not an infrequent critic of mine, is an astute and long-time observer of the Vermont political scene. He offered a few observations in the September 11 issue of
Seven Days
:

The GOP's best political minds were absolutely certain a woman like Susie Creamcheese would be Ol' Bernardo's worst nightmare. After all, none of the three Republican notches on Congressman Bernie's gun belt (Peter Smith, Tim Philbin and John Carroll) were female. Aha! they thought—the key is to match him up against a woman! “Bernie can't handle a strong woman,” they crowed. Susan Sweetser had all the necessary credentials and then some.

Sweetser signed up one of the top political consulting firms going: Dresner & Wickers. Dick Dresner worked for Jim Jeffords for years … and just upped his fee by pulling off the upset of the century in getting Russia's Boris Yeltsin reelected. Knocking off the only political aberration on Capitol Hill surely would be child's play for these political heavyweights, right?

The plan was simple. Hit the airwaves early to build up statewide name recognition, and with it garner a bump in the polls. Take that bump to the bank and close in for the kill. Keep Sanders on the defensive. Attack his contributors. Portray him as out of touch, a fringe-type who consorts with out-of-state left-wing extremists.

But in life, things don't always go the way you plan. Susie's TV blitz in June did build up her name recognition statewide. Unfortunately, a whole lot of Vermonters who began to recognize her also began to get a bad taste in their mouth. Her commercials were too slick, too New York. A clear gender gap developed. Women didn't like her. Too brassy, too bitchy, too loud-mouthed. The bump in the polls never came. Instead, her unfavorable rating doubled. Oops. Iceberg, dead ahead!