campaign. And because he wasn't rich -- proving that not all lawyers are
-- he was spurning such normal accouterments of candidates for public
office these days as political consultants and glossy brochures.
"A candidate," he told me then, "needs to control spending. A
political campaign can't become a house remodel where you get started and
then don't know where to stop."
Well, it all seemed a little quixotic but he won. His victory had a
lot to do with his embrace of the Greenlight measure, which won big, as
well as his two opponents splitting the Good Old Boy vote. And he won in
spite of the fact that he said publicly without blinking that his motive
in running was "public service," an affirmation that his record suggested
was highly credible but that most voters regard with considerable
cynicism. He also won with support, including financial, from the
Greenlight organization.
He's been on public view, now, for the better part of a year, and it
seemed like a good time to find out how he was adjusting to political
life. So I connected with him for breakfast the other day for an update.
And it turned out that political life is having more difficulty adjusting
to him than vice versa.
Part of the reason is that "need to control spending." He says he
keeps asking "where the money is coming from."
"And I feel like I'm talking to myself," he added. "I think
vertically, and the other council members seem to think horizontally. I
look for straight answers, straight facts and instead tend to get
opinions. I think we should have facts before we spend other people's
money."
This sort of radical thinking has, he says, made it difficult to be
pals with his associates on the City Council.
"I would gladly sit down with anyone on the council and settle
differences of opinion with a handshake. So far I haven't had any
takers," he said.
Relations have become testy enough that he says he is "becoming known