BRASIN'S BEAT: NOTES ON A SEMIOTICS OF BUSH FOOTWARE.

Last week in New Hampshire, ABC's Dean Reynolds noted, "Gov. Bush wore boots in Iowa and street shoes in New Hampshire. He made little news but no mistakes." Reynolds was right. As local TV critic Diane Holloway wrote in yesterday's Statesman, "in the absence of substantive issues, the camera is keying on his feet." Bush spent his time at hoe-downs in Iowa, so grey ostrich western boots and a "GWB" belt buckle as big as a hub cap was not out of place. Besides, it painted George as a Washington "outsider." Protective coloration. In New Hampshire, on the other hand, George's first visit of the day was to one of the wealthiest enclaves in the state, and he wore black flats, not wanting to appear to be a colorful oddity to the business reps of the Eastern establishment. Of course, in real life George doesn't think much about clothes one way or the other, nor does Laura, either, if truth were told. But George likes to wear odd things for shock value, so he's open to the suggestions of his handlers, who think shoes are important. Here's Marilyn Schultz, head of broadcast journalism at UT: "It's almost not important if you have substance or not. It's all about image. Whether Bush changes his boots, his shoes or his mind. If he's got confidence and charisma, people are going to go with it." So, take that, Dick Morris! Where's your smart, sophisticated voter, now?

What kind of footware will George wear in California this week? Will it be boots in San Diego, flip-flops in Fresno, running shoes in Palo Alto, Birkenstocks in Old Frisco, and black flats everywhere in between? Whatever the footware will be, it'll be determined by a combination of occasion and needed stereotype, with the TV viewer in mind. California is a TV market, not a state where the political battle is hand-to-hand. Here's Holloway again: "Make no mistake about it, image is important. When television became the main tool in political elections, television became all important How a candidate is perceived on television can make or break a political career." A TV Bush Watcher e-mailed us this word of advice to George the other day: cut your nose hairs! "As the campaign progresses, the camera will move closer. 'That's when we start to hear things and see the blemishes,' Schultz said. 'That's when the clay feet appear. With a close-up lens, the camera picks up nuances, and the public is savvy at reading things like fear or anger.' The easy-going governor is not without a temper...Perhaps when Bush is pressed to discuss his past, which he has deemed off limits, we'll see flashes of anger. Perhaps. But maybe the TV camera will be more concerned with the shoes on those clay feet." 6/29/99

POLITEX: "N.Y. TIMES SAYS BUSH TO PLAY WOODSTOCK." Oops, wrong Bush. But we're not the only ones to confuse Dubya's campaign and a rock-n-roll act. Philip Seib, who must be from an earlier generation, compares the Bush presidential campaign with a Rolling Stones' road show in today's Dallas Morning News: "As George W. Bush takes his presidential campaign on the road, the trappings are like those of a rock star's concert tour. Even the news coverage is imbued with the breathless hype usually found on Entertainment Tonight. For now, show takes precedence over substance." And you can't really blame the press for presenting Bushstock like Woodstock, because George is behaving like your average, spoiled, rock-star millionaire: "As the media-ordained front-runner, Mr. Bush could campaign with presidential solemnity, but that wouldn't be much fun. Instead, he has adopted a faintly mocking tone, which annoys some of the windbags in the press corps. By making light of campaign ritual, Mr. Bush implicitly makes light of campaign punditry." We believe it's a passive-agressive political personae, which actually reflects some deeply-held attitudes George has toward the probing public, not just the reporters. Also, it's Karl Rove's clever prescription for keeping the Guv's hot-temper in check. But how long will Bush get away with it?

The typical Bush whistle-stop these days is to get into town, shake hands with the local GOP officials, hoping that his advance people have included some Hispanics and Afro-Americans in the mix (no gays), then on to the brunch/lunch/dinner/supper at $1,000 at plate (at least until July 1) where a shortened version of the ur-speech is given, with stress upon whatever plays best to the locals. For example, in rust-belt Allentown/Bethlehem/Easton the stress was on the prosperity to come. Add to this a book reading at the local library by George and Laura and a visit to a local "faith-based" center to cheer on the troops of "compassionate conservativism." No press conferences, no unsupervised crowds. In truth, it's a neat little campaign package, light on content, heavy on vague generalities and symbolism. For example, how many "stands" has George taken, ala the Texans at the Alamo? How many times has he raised his hand to "solemnly swear" as though he's taking the presidential oath? Does anyone really remember what the "stand" was about, what was "solemnly sworn"? Probably not, because what he was standing on and swearing to was too vague to begin with.

Philip Seib writes that these early campaign jaunts around the nation are not simply warming up exercises: "Despite the relaxed demeanor of the candidate, the Bush campaign has much at stake in these first trips. They aren't mere exploratory jaunts; Mr. Bush doesn't need those. Instead, his campaign swings are designed to speed up the nominating process by reinforcing the sense of inevitability that his candidacy has acquired. He wants to get so much more news coverage, raise so much more money and pick up so many more endorsements that most of his Republican rivals will drop out and allow him to get a head start on running against the Democrats." This being the case, one would assume that the Bush push for the big bucks will slow down after the next quarterly campaign contributions deadline in a few days. At least, that's what Bush spokesperson Mindy Tucker told a Morning Call reporter in Bethlehem the other day. Don't bet on it. Getting cash on the basis of vague generalities will be the focus of the campaign until Rove decides people won't stand for it anymore. That's what happened with the Bush declaration of presidential candidacy in Iowa. Rove wanted to wait until next fall. That's what happened with the formation of the exploration committee months earlier. It became embarrassingly obvious what the Bush camp was up to when George started his courses in Government 101 at the governor's mansion last winter. In other words, George will keep mouthing vague generalities until Rove decides it's counter-productive to do so. We know that it's only good politics not to peak early, and we know that things won't really heat up on the primary trail until mid-fall. On the other hand, it's also good politics to shelter George as long as possible. The less folks really know about George's record, his specific proposals, and his character, the better. As Karl Rove instructed the Bush campaign camp early in the first gubernatorial race, given George's weaknesses, it's best to keep him away from live interviews, one-on-one reporters, and debates with other candidates as much as possible. 6/27/99

Earlier that morning Luis A. Ramos, a community affairs manager at the Pennsylvania Power and Light Company and a long-time Republican, received an unexpected phone call from a Bush campaign representative, informing him that Bush would like to meet with him and three other local Latino leaders prior to the luncheon fund-raiser. Ramos said he was unable to go because of previous plans. It turned out that the other three Latino leaders had the same problem. No mention was made of the $1,000 a plate campaign lunch. Although GOP U.S. Rep. Don Ritter said that Bush "is speaking to constituencies who have not been strong in our party in a long time--blacks, women, and Hispanics," Darly Nerl, Christian Berg, and Erika Chavez, reporting on the Bethlehem Bush Bash for the Allentown Morning Call, noted "few minorities among the 117 who attended" the $1,000 a plate campaign lunch. Apparantly, the Governor prefers to speak to them elsewhere.

There were, however, other events in this third largest metropolitan area in Pennsylvania that took precedence over the Bush visit, if headline placement in The Morning Call, the area's largest newspaper, is used as a yardstick. City fathers informed the President of Musikfest, a nine-day event that its organizers call "America's largest music festival," that parking for the Musikfest this year will be $10, leading the event's President to act as though he had been hit upside the head with, as reported, "a bag full of nickles." "You mean just to park their cars? I thought that was some kind of new fine." On the plus side, although B*Witched, the popular Irish girl act, canceled out of Musikfest, teen boy Latin quartet C Note will fill the spot with co-headliner Joey McIntyre, a former New Kids on the Block member, not to be confused with Kids in the Hall, a Canadian TV comedy group. Also upstaging Governor Bush in the local paper was a report that disgruntled phone callers to IRS were treated to a "kinder, gentler IRS," when 15 live representives met with citizens during the day Wednesday at the public library in center-city Bethlehem to help solve their problems. "By noon, 12 people had showed up for Problem Solving Day, even though the IRS's Bethlehem office is down the street from the library." (Editor's Note. Bill Brasin lived in Bethlehem for a number of years, so he might be a tad more interested in local activities than you or I.) 6/25-26/99

In its June 14th editorial, the UL's Richard Lessner compares the Bush campaign to the "over-hyped" Star Wars and writes, "the free ride is over." He then went on to wack Dubya's Texas record: " As for leadership abilities, Gov. Bush has not distinguished himself as a political pugilist. His brief tenure as Texas' chief executive has been marked by pragmatism, a willingness to work with a legislature split between the two parties, and a willingness to settle for modest successes and small victories. One rap against Gov. Bush is that, unlike his younger brother Jeb who is governor of Florida, he does not get out front and lead the fight for his own agenda. The Bush style, it is said, is to lay low, look for popular issues, let others do the hard work, and then step up to claim credit in the hour of victory" Lessner seems to consider such a style pretty wimpy: "If true, this suggests that Gov. Bush is not a man of deeply held convictions and passionate beliefs for which he is willing to fight. Perhaps this diffident style is well-suited to the notoriously weak Texas governorship, but more grit will be required not only to win the White House, but also to lead the nation."

Based on Dubya's limited political record, his unproven abilities, and his "gooey generalities," Lessner goes on to write, " That so many Republicans have rushed to commit their party's fate to this political neophyte is an astounding and almost inexplicable phenomenon. Yes, Gov. Bush, former Texas oil man and part-owner of a major league baseball team, appears to be a thoroughly likable chap. He is affable and telegenic and perhaps this is enough in the warm-and-fuzzy, touch-feely therapeutic politics of the Clintonized 1990s. But if something more than a winning smile is needed, if the voters demand some real substance, then Gov. Bush has yet to prove himself. " Two days later, after the Bush bandwagon left town, in another Union Leader editorial, Lessner reported that Bush failed to prove himself: " Is Gov. Bush a leader or a follower of public opinion? Is he a man of conviction or a politician chasing polls? Yes, candidate Bush had an impressive couple of days here in New Hampshire. Clearly, he is a man of considerable charm and charisma. Like Bill Clinton, Gov. Bush has the ability to connect personally with people. But on the issues, Gov. Bush's first foray into the first-in-the-nation primary state was uninspiring. Unaccountably, he put himself outside the Republican grass-roots mainstream on a number of important issues." While Bush is looking that middle 20% in the eye, Lessner's right, like Bradley's left, is unhappy with its candidate: "Gov. Bush's inexplicably squishy positions on many issues suggests that he believes he already has a lock on the Republican nomination. This may be somewhat premature. Gov. Bush puts himself outside the mainstream of Republican primary voters at his peril." Our take on Lessner's criticism of Bush is that he put his finger on questions of character, ability, leadership, and administrative style that 100% of the voters should carefully consider. 6/20/99

Take the idea of "compassionate conservativism," which, in his speeches, Bush implies folks are attacking him for supporting. "In truth," says Saletan, " none of Bush's rivals has criticized compassion or boasted of a hard heart." On the other hand, his foes have objected to his implication that they lack compassion, and they have attacked George for hiding behind such vague words, rather than discussing specifics. "What Bush's opponents have 'criticized,' in short, is not his 'approach' but its redundancy and insubstantiality. By conning the media into reporting that he was 'defending his philosophy,' Bush snuffed out the real question: whether he has a philosophy to defend."

What about Bush's official campaign theme, "Prosperity with a purpose"? What's the purpose? He says America must be prosperous so "anybody can find a high-paying job," so "people can realize their entrepreneurial dreams," so all citizens can realize the American dream." "In other words," says Saletan, "the purpose of prosperity is...prosperity."

Similarly, Bush wants to draw "a moral line in the sand" and demand a "responsibility era." He calls for "discipline," "love," "hard work," "honesty," and "family," values he believes are in "stark contrast to the last few decades." Saletan asks, "Does Bush really think the last few decades, supervised in large part by his father and President Reagan, were the era of irresponsibility? Or is he painting a dark background to lend the illusion of luster to his pale moral agenda?" What we're getting from Bush, folks, is the kind of Orwellian misuse of language and ideas that we've read about in 1984, Animal Farm, and "Politics and the English Language." "Like his father, Bush substitutes virtue for substance. When asked by Newsweek what his family stands for, George W. answered, 'Honesty, integrity, serving for the right reasons.' And what are those reasons? 'America, and what America stands for,' he replied. 'To bring integrity and decency to the process and to serve for the right reason, which is country above self. But I'm going to have a specific agenda that addresses what I think are the big concerns as we go into the 21st century.' The younger Bush's constant assurances that he's going to unveil his '10-point plans' and 'specific incentives' any day now--a vague pledge to be specific--are the functional equivalent of his father's constant allusions to 'vision.' The less you have of something, the more you boast of it abstractly."

Finally, Saletan believes that G-Double-Speak's greatest accomplishment thus far has been getting the nation's press to believe that "his evasion of controversies" is, somehow, a virtue. "A leader must be a uniter, not a divider," George opines. "This country is hungry for a new-style campaign" that is "positive, hopeful, inclusive" and "unites America." But saying the words will not make it so. "With those words, the Republican front-runner takes a bold stand against taking bold stands. Shame on lesser candidates who demand that he choose sides on the difficult issues of the day. He's in his own league. And by selling the media distinctions without a difference, he intends to keep it that way." 6/17/99

Meanwhile, Bush bashers were prowling around outside the building, looking to ambush stray reporters. A Dem National Committee rep told Bill that Bush's agenda sounded a lot like Gingrich's, "just printed on pastel paper." Another Dem was passing out an announcement calling the Bush campaign "Titanic, II." "The event or the film?" a reporter asked. "What's the difference?" the basher answered. "The boat sinks either way!" Then on to Kennebunkport, Maine, where Dubya's father tells reporters, "(George) doesn't need advice from me....We're not, I'm not, in the advice mission business." Then he stopped, looked at the reporters, grinned, and said, "I'm the same guy." The next day, we're in New Hampshire, where a Bush backer says, "Hey, c'mon, if Monica couldn't make a dent in Bill, I mean, what could come out of the closet to haunt (George)?...Practically nothing can come walking out of the closet to shock us."

Finally, there's this Americana exchange between Dubya and a citizen that's right out of a Frank Capra movie. Here's George answering questions in a volunteer firehouse in the small, seacoast town of Bow, New Hampshire. A man in the back of the crowd shouts out, "What about the flag amendment?" The candidate answers, "I support it." "What about free speech and the First Amendment?" the man shoots back. "You're exercising it," Bush answers, drawing laughter from the small crowd. Then the man's embarrassed young daughter whispers, "Why did you do that, dad?" Can't ya' just see it? 6/16/99

He told us the reporters from the media big boys left Iowa on the Bush press plane, "Great Expectorations," at 2 a.m. Sunday morning, headed for Kennebunkport, Maine. Bill was on the road earlier that evening, after a press-tent dinner of thick pork chops with all the trimmings. Brasin drove non-stop, so he was pretty wired from coffee and turnpikes by the time he arrived at his distination late Sunday , a small town in New Hampshire near Manchester, which shall remain namless. Manchester was pretty well booked up in anticipation of the Bush invasion on Monday, but a reading of the American Heritage book suggested that this small town had charm. "In point of fact, it had a singular lack of picturesqueness. The town consisted principally of one long street of mostly undistinguished buildings, with a supermarket parking lot in the middle and the shell of a disued gas station a couple of doors away. This, I think we can agree, does not constitute picturesqueness. Happily, the town had other virtues. For one thing, it was the friendliest place I had ever seen."

"I went into the Topic of the Town restaurant. The other customers smiled at me, the lady at the cash register showed me where to put my jacket, and the waitress, a plump and dimpled little lady, couldn't do enough for me. It was as if they had all been given some kind of marvelous tranquilizer....Afterwards, I had a walk around the town--that is to say, I walked up one side of the street and down the other. People on the sidewalk smiled at me as I passed. This was beginning to worry me. Nobody, even in America, is that friendly. Whad did they want from me? Suddenly, I realized what it was--it was the look of someone from outer space, that odd, curiously malevolent B-movie smile of a race of interplanetary creatures who have taken over a small town in the middle of nowhere. I know this sounds improbable, but crazier things have happened--look who was in the White House." Look who's running for the White House! Our stringer concluded his report by writing that early the next day Bush met in New Castle with the press corps in a white tent with the sun coming through the canvas, making a kind of haze around the Texas governor. Brasin arrived late, catching Dubya in the middle of an explanation of a new game that everyone in Washington, D. C. is playing, called "Gotcha." As he understood it from the governor's explanation, one player "floats a rumor" and another attempts to "prove that the rumor is untrue." Bush told the reporters he didn't want to play that game. After the press conference, Bill looked around in the toy stores in New Castle, but no one had heard of the game. Note to Bill. No more all-night drives. And ask a Bush aide where the game might be purchased. (Quotes from Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent) 6/15/99

One suspects that if, like his friendly manner and his joking personality, Dubya's temper was inherited from his strong-willed mother, it did not particularly stand out in the world of jousting and joking that made up the all-guy universe that George was a part of from the time he started elementary school to 1965, when he graduated from Andover at age 16. After that, outbursts of temper could be partially chalked up to booze until Dubya turned 40 and swore off. Looking back on Andover, temper tantrums were minor personality flaws. Patrick Beach quotes classmate Tom Seligson as saying, "I organize the (Andover) reunions, and it's like going back to a prison reunion. This was an atmosphere where there was a lot of cruelty to other classmates. (Bush) never did any of that" Beach tells us that the attitude held by the Andover administration, which, one suspects, is typical of exclusive male schools of that time, is that "these young men had gotten into the most prestigious academy in the United States, and they were going to be punished for it....Fear, intimidation, and humiliation were trusted teaching tools." Bush was able to survive in such a setting by being the fun guy, the jokester, the life of the party, and, since that attitude was antithetical to the school's view of learning by punishing, he simultaneously became the anti-authoritarian leader and reinforced his dislike of learning for its own sake, which he has to this day. The revenge of academia was that the dons visited him this past winter and subjected him to lengthy, ponderous seminars on matters presidential. As the days went by, however, George more often than not found himself "tapping his foot under the table like a schoolboy," challenging his teachers to "cut to the chase."

In the atmosphere of prep-school cruelty, weak students tend to get even by being cruel towards one another. Not Bush. "Young George was instead a social creature, one who went out of his way to make everybody comfortable, even those not in his clique. It was here that Bush, as much a New Englander as a Texan, honed an essential political skill: getting along with everybody," writes Beach. John Kidde, a Bush roommate while at Andover, remembers George as a popular, sports-playing guy who made it a point to bring the social nerds or straight-A students into his circle: "George would make a joke or a comment and always bring this guy into the conversation, make him a part of the group. He was real good at that. He always made people feel very comfortable around him." (Next: Temper on the Campaign Trail.) 6/14/99

According to Beach, "At some point in one's life, say on a blurry morning after a man's 40th birthday party, a switch flips, cells begin dividing and before long a....George W. Bush emerges as The Son Who Will Serve the Father, a Sonny Corleone type whose volaility sometimes gets the best of his judgement." Bush went to Washington to help his dad get elected president, "to protect his dad and terrorize his enemies." He came to the White House more like a Midland roughneck than a graduate of Yale in history. "When I was working for him in '87, he was still chewing tobacco, which is a pretty gross trait," Deborah Dunn confided to Beach. Dunn went on to become director of a White House office and later worked on Bush's run against Ann Richards. "I'd bring in his campaign itinerary, and stacks of material I'd already sorted through. He didn't want extensive detail. And by noon, three-quarters of the stuff would be in the trash can. And here he was chewing tobacco and spitting in the trash can, and when he'd go for his noon jog, I'd be picking the stuff out of the trash can, and I'd think, 'You couldn't have read this.' But he had, and picked out the facts and put them somewhere in his mind and moved on."

Unlike tobacco chewing, George has not been able to shake some controversial personality traits he brought from Midland to Washington and still has to this day, his cockiness, his impatience, and his hot-headedness. "Despite his best efforts, (they leak) out, sometimes publicly. Reporters often don't finish asking their questions before he starts answering them, but if a reporter steps on one of his answers, Bush is likely to lower his head and politely seeth. "May I finish, please?' He's like this privately, too." Fellow-Republican Tom Pauken, a Christian conservative at odds with Dubya, thinks these Bush traits will come back to haunt him as he runs for president. As Beach paraphrases Pauken, Dubya's "tamped down that habit of launching strategic zingers, but the noncampaign was a long one, and the campaign will be even longer. At some point, the Lip will prevail." (Next: How George got that way.) 6/13/99

"By Iowa standards, Des Moines is a mecca of cosmopolitanism, a dynamic hub of wealth and education, where people wear three-piece suits and dark socks, often simultaneously. (Des Moines was once the home of) a personable old fart who was president....He was a sportscaster called Dutch Reagan at WHO Radio in Des Moines. 'He was just a nice, friendly, kind of dopey guy," my mother says. Which, come to that, is a pretty fair description of most Iowans....When I say they are kind of dopey I mean that they are trusting and amiable and open. They are a tad slow, certainly--when you tell an Iowan a joke, you can see a kind of race going on between his brain and his expression--but it's not because they're incapable of high-speed mental activity, it's only that there's not much call for it. Their wits are dulled by simple, wholesome faith in God and the soil and their fellow man."

In Des Moines George will be "the center of attention, the most interesting thing to hit town since a tornado carried off old Frank Sprinkel and his tractor last May. Everybody you meet acts like he would gladly give you his last beer and let you sleep with his sister. Everyone is happy and friendly and strangely serene....Don't get me wrong. I am not for a moment suggesting that Iowans are mentally deficient. They are decidedly intelligent and sensible people who, despite their natural conservatism, have always been prepared to elect a conscientious, clear-thinking liberal in preference to some cretinous conservative." In truth, it must be confessed that we thought the report indicated a slam-dunk for our George until we got to that last sentence. (Quotes from Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent.) 6/12/99