The Unkindest Critique Of Them All

Bill McBride is probably not going to be the next governor. What he definitely is not is ready for prime time.

Fair political game is what you don’t know or what you’ve done or not done or would or wouldn’t do. Modern campaigns, however, increasingly put a premium on media skills. How you look and how you say whatever it is you say is very important. It’s not fair, but it’s politics, which, if it were fair, wouldn’t be politics.

McBride’s affable personality and one-on-one people skills are a matter of record — as well as manifestly evident. They don’t, however, translate effectively onto the political stage. What you see of an intelligent, successful businessman who’s concerned about his state is less than the sum of the parts.

The debate forum, even for such a savvy attorney as McBride, just hasn’t been kind to him. And that’s unfortunate, because debates always hold out more potential for the challenger, especially one relatively unknown. Debates mean marquee sharing and instant, elevated status vis a vis the incumbent, who is now reduced to co-candidate.

Jeb Bush, however, is telegenic, smooth, rhetorically fast on his feet and wonkish in his command of statistics. Bill McBride isn’t.

Those saucery eyes and frisky digits. That Leesburg drawl and goofy grin. In contrast to the late Lawton Chiles, McBride comes across almost rube-like — not wizened and folksy.

Jeb Bush can look like an arrogant know-it-all — and he is — but it’s not at the expense of looking gubernatorial, a quality that helps when running for governor. McBride can look like a bumpkin in the big city — and he isn’t — but it’s at the expense of looking gubernatorial.

The Bush-McBride results could conceivably be the domino that begins the downfall of a president. As a result, it has been the most scrutinized race in the country — from C-SPAN to the networks to the weekly news magazines to the high priests at the New York Times and the Washington Post.

The unflattering critiques now abound. No criticism of McBride, however, skewered him more than that of Robert L. Pollock, the veteran Wall Street Journal editorial page writer. Pollock, who was in town recently, compared McBride to Adm. James Stockdale, Ross Perot’s 1992 running mate. Stockdale, an aging, American hero and former prisoner of war, looked ill at ease and befuddled in the vice presidential debate with Al Gore and Dan Quayle. Stockdale — of “Who am I? Why am I here?” fame — became the object of ridicule — mitigated only by pity.

McBride, a war hero himself, is no Jim Stockdale. But that one had to hurt.

Activated Reservist Faces Stateside Challenges

“This is Petty Officer Duncan. Can I help you, sir or ma’am?”

Some folks calling the Harbour Island Athletic Club late this summer had to be taken aback when the front-desk phone was answered in this fashion. Had they been patched through to CentCom?

Hardly. Their call actually had been taken by Roosevelt Duncan, HIAC’s affable front-desk man. Duncan, it turns out, had recently returned from three months of military service in Afghanistan. His by-the-numbers phone etiquette reflected the less-than-seamless transition he was making from battlefield corpsman to civilian employee.

Duncan, a 32-year-old Naval reservist, was making the quantum-leap adjustment from triage scenarios in eastern Afghanistan to the pedestrian, Harbour Island world of membership cards, lockers, keys, towels and guest registries.

War-zone work takes a toll, underscores Duncan.

“It was only three months, but it was scary,” recalls the 6-foot, 3-inch, 245-pounder who is cross-trained as a Seabee and a medic. “There were live bullets whizzing by. Something you really can’t simulate in training.”

A crucial part of his job, he explains, was to stay focused and calm while ministering to wounded marines and special-ops troops. “You have to tell ’em ‘You’re fine.’ You let them know they’re all right. Even if they aren’t. It’s like with the ER docs. They never say, ‘You’re not going to make it.’

“There are those you can’t save, but you still have to reassure them,” says Duncan. “You try to at least ease their mind. That’s what really stays with you. The guys you had to let go — although we always come back for our own. A friend from high school died in my arms. Sometimes I still wake up in a sweat.”

And there are the other times — such as the sight and sound of a helicopter — that would startle him. “I’ll duck from a backfiring car,” says Duncan. “I’ll grab my wife and pull her down.”

It’s why he took an extra week off before returning to his HIAC job.

“Roosevelt is a genuine guy,” says Tim Forrest, HIAC’s sales director, “and easy to work with. He cares about doing a good job. He’s very polite, very disciplined.”

Duncan, however, was very concerned that the good-humored, gregarious guy who didn’t abide “negativity in the world” had returned in an edgy state.

“I like things to run smoothly,” he points out. “Now coming back from (overseas) orders, some checks didn’t get into my account. They bounced. I took it personally. I’m like ‘Don’t threaten me.’

“I wasn’t myself at first,” he acknowledges. “I needed a little extra time to get it together for civilian life. You take a life or save a life and then come back to the civilized world. Some things are a little harder to readjust to — like when you hear people moan and complain about stuff. Really petty stuff. And you want to say, ‘You have no idea how lucky you are. You have no idea what some people are going through.’ I had to bite my tongue a lot at first.”

To avoid severing it, he would retreat to a reclusive spot by the bay or gulf to meditate. “You want your sacrifice to have meaning,” he says. “I just remind myself of that.”

As a reservist, Petty Officer 3rd Class Duncan has six years remaining on his eight-year commitment. He’s obligated to a weekend a month and two weeks a year. He’s also subject to 48-to-72-hour notice for active duty. He may not have seen the last of the Middle East cauldron.

Which means he may have to go through the hardest part — leaving his family — again. His wife, Ouida, is pregnant with their first child — due in late December. He also has two daughters, 7 and 10.

“If I were single, this wouldn’t be as tough,” says Duncan. “The hardest thing is reassuring others. ‘Daddy has to leave, but Daddy will be back.’ You say that, but you also think, ‘Is my family going to be taken care of? Is this my last day?”

He doesn’t dwell there, he says. Instead, he goes to the enlightened self-interest of the bigger picture.

“I have no regrets about enlisting,” he stresses. “I’m now in this to make it better for the kids. Mine and everybody else’s.”

One more thing.

Thank you, Roosevelt.

Trolley Tracks and Tacks

The much ballyhooed, well-received trolley debut is now history, but still ahead are ambitious scenarios for future phases tying in downtown and Hyde Park. Meanwhile, don’t be surprised when plans for the Franklin Street extension are accelerated if Tampa lands the GOP convention.

And this sobering note. Obviously the TECOline Streetcar System is a uniquely attractive, nostalgia-steeped, economic development tool and tourist-visitor attraction. But isn’t it also a starter-set for light rail? And doesn’t it remain quite the parochial commentary on this area that such a mass transit reality still can’t be uttered publicly for fear of political repercussions?

One Man, One (Informed) Vote

With apologies to supervisors of elections and civics teachers everywhere, it is blasphemously suggested here that not everybody vote. Not next week. Not, quite conceivably, ever.

But hear out this heresy.

America’s love affair with democracy has always had its incongruous side. Our Declaration of Independence accommodated both the essence of equality and the nature of slavery. The franchise to vote had quirky exceptions regarding land ownership, race and gender. Sometimes an election isn’t won by the candidate with the most votes.

Here, then, is but one more aberration

“The Pillage People”

In the aftermath of that disheartening debacle against the Philadelphia Eagles, it’s harder to muster the creativity to answer the community call for an appropriate moniker for the Bucs’ defense. Having said that, “The Pillage People” works for me.

Alas, “The Pirates of Penzance” also works for the offense. First runner-up: “The Maginot Line.”

A Fit Candidate For Mayor

Fitness author Don Ardel seems less a candidate for mayor than that of personal trainer for the city. So be it. He’s an engaging, 64-year-old blithe spirit among more traditional candidates — and would certainly trim fat wherever he found it.

But while his campaign may be running in place, Ardel continues to excel in his most familiar arena: road racing. Earlier this month he won a silver medal in the 60-64 division of the (bike and run) World Duathlon Championships in suburban Atlanta.

The “Infidel” Tragedy That Played Moscow

As bloody and harrowing as the hostage-taking in that Moscow theater was, the most chilling aspects were the Chechen threats made in pre-assault videotapes. They were delivered — disturbingly enough — to the Moscow bureau of al-Jazeera, the Muslim-friendly, Qatar-based news channel that often serves as an al-Qaida conduit.

First some background. Since it was conquered by czarist armies in 1859, Chechnya has smoldered under Russian rule. Dictator Josef Stalin deported many to their deaths during World War II. After a war in the mid 1990s, the breakaway republic in southern Russia gained de facto independence. Three years ago Russian troops re-entered in response, Russian leaders said, to rebel raids and bombings.

It’s your basic, intractable, sovereignty-and-freedom dilemma that has festered across the generations and cost countless lives. It is further fueled by religious affiliation. The population, approximately 1.2 million, is mostly Muslim.

For those who still harbor hopes that this increasingly polarized, terrorist-traipsing world is not a battle of civilizations and that it’s “not about Islam,” the Chechen videotape is required reviewing.

On one tape, a rebel acknowledged that the 50 or so Chechen hostage-takers, approximately half of whom were women, were on a “martyrdom operation.” To underscore their leverage, as well as a perverse sense of presumption, he said, “I swear by God we are more keen on dying than you are keen on living.”

On the other tape, five veiled women stood before a banner that proclaimed “God is Great” in Arabic. For the sake of argument, agreed. In fact, keen. But their point being? Could it be that nobody knows intractable sovereignty issues like Allah — especially after a century and a half to deliberate?

“We have chosen this path, the path of struggling for the freedom of the Chechen,” said one of the women. She then alarmingly added: “It makes no difference for us where we will die. We have chosen to die here, in Moscow, and we will take the lives of hundreds of the infidels with us.”

You knew it was coming.

This conflict — borne of subjugation and thwarted self-determination since the middle of the 19th century — has been reduced to its 21st century, sectarian essence. This is no run-of-the-mill battle of ideological, dictatorial oppressors against the generically oppressed. It’s infidels vs. true believers.

Once you’ve assigned the “infidel” label, an assignation too easily accommodated by Islam, it’s no quantum leap to dehumanize the other side. Hitler, of course, was a foremost exponent, but pathologic power was his only religion.

Islam, we are told, is a religion of peace.

Islam, we are not told, is too easily perverted and too susceptible to dividing the world into “believers” and “infidels.”

Once someone — say, a theatergoer, a thespian, an airplane passenger, a bus rider, a restaurant patron, an office worker, a wedding-reception guest, a child — has been designated an “infidel,” that person is fair game for the religious fanatic. Especially a zealot who has seethed too long in a culture more intent on revenging the Crusades than competing with the West.

The historic, geographic and geopolitical trappings may be different — as different as New York, Jerusalem, Bali and Moscow — but make no mistake. This is about Islam.

You better believe it.

Especially if you’re an “infidel.”

Gubernatorial Debate Winner: Status Quo

It was hardly high drama. Then again, it wasn’t like watching Barry Bonds intentionally walked. Certainly C-SPANable.

The last of the three gubernatorial debates probably didn’t change anything. People watch to validate what they already believe and, therefore, see and hear what they want to see and hear. Those who haven’t made up their minds likely made up their minds not to watch.

Anyway, no knockouts, no headline-grabbing gaffes. Just a lot of “he said-I said-who says?” interspersed with “yes, you are’s” and “no, I’m not’s” and flavored with “did not, did too’s.” Here a “disingenuous,” there a “you should be ashamed.”

It was reaffirmed from the two previous debates that Florida is either doing well — or not so good. It was further reiterated that the class size-capping Amendment 9 would either brutalize the state budget or save our educational bacon.

On balance, Jeb Bush succeeded in looking more informed than arrogant. McBride, more gubernatorial than goober.

But Tim Russert was a major upgrade, although he wasn’t a candidate.

Castor Playing Ethics Card Against Hart

Kathy Castor is an attractive candidate.

She looks good on paper and pretty in person. Smiling disarmingly as she decries “property taxpayers subsidizing urban sprawl development,” she actually seems to enjoy public policy.

She’s affable, informed and typically positive on the stump. Her best credential — a 3-year, assistant general counsel stint at the Florida Department of Community Affairs — dovetails nicely with Hillsborough County’s thorniest issue: assuring smart growth isn’t some oxymoronic delusion.

And then there’s that Castor name. Without which, some contend, she might have been a winsome loser in the District 1 county commission primary against solid opponents with non-household handles such as Osiason and Dingfelder.

But that was then and this is Chris Hart III.

The 58-year-old Hart is formidable. He is business-issues savvy and a true believer in raising the county’s profile. Hart also has the sort of family name recognition that comes from more than a decade of public service. Moreover, his son is a two-term state representative. He has contacts in Washington, even if inflated.

Although Hart jumped into the race at the last minute, he initially raised more money than Castor immediately following the Sept. 10 primary. He has served on the Hillsborough County City-County Planning Commission and been elected and re-elected to (a countywide seat on) the county commission.

Around here, however, that’s not just hands-on experience. It’s also guilt by association. The commission, dysfunctional on a good day, is collectively and routinely disparaged.

Hart acknowledges the double-edged sword of incumbency.

“Each of us hopes we’re not the one,” he says. “It’s like a family where someone got up on the wrong side of the bed. But the criticism is not totally deserving. We can get too wrapped up in personalities. I think we need to ask what got done at the end of the day. On health and transportation, we have moved forward.”

While the 36-year-old Castor can wax wonkish on water, transportation, indigent health care and older neighborhood re-investment, her best chance is to go right after Hart’s incumbency. Her ethics reform package takes dead, if decorous, aim.

The parameters of a Hillsborough County Ethics Commission would include all the municipalities and could address, she says, everything from nepotism in county government to the sort of legal/ethical dilemma that plagued Mayor Dick Greco over the Steve LaBrake affair.

More pertinent to the election, however, are proposals to strengthen disclosure rules for lobbyists, “clarify” term limits and make commissioners more accountable for their travel and expenditure reports. The latter two provisions are thinly veiled Hart attacks.

In a recent press release, Castor vowed: “When elected, I will work to add a provision to the (County Home Rule) Charter limiting commissioners to two terms — including a jump from district to district. Period. This was the intent of the voters in the first place.” An intent, she more than implies, disregarded and disrespected by Hart who is completing his second term representing District 5 countywide. He hopscotched into the District 1 competition on the last day of qualifying — after bowing out of the mayor’s race.

Then there’s Hart’s reputation for junketeering.

Castor also wants commissioners to publish travel-related expenses in the Commission’s official agenda. Hart’s county travels, notes Castor, have included top-dollar stays in Mexico, Las Vegas, Hawaii and Washington and “exceed all other commissioners combined.”

To Hart, the criticism is like a sucker punch in a velvet glove.

“I followed the end of her (Senate District 13) race with Victor Crist (in 2000) and was disappointed,” says Hart. “It turned negative. Now I’m beginning to wonder.

“She’s looking for issues upon which to mount a campaign,” adds Hart. “There’s already a state ethics commission. Otherwise, her agenda mirrors mine.”

Frankly, some insiders have questioned why Castor hasn’t been more aggressive in going after Hart’s relatively undistinguished record. But Castor sees a localized ethics commission — with reasonable turnaround-time accountability and teeth — as a necessary means to a pragmatic end.

“Before we accomplish anything of substance,” stresses Castor, “we must restore trust. The public has lost trust in the county commission. This could help build confidence. The starting point is a new board in November.”

Dingfelder Retools For Another Campaign

John Dingfelder, first runner-up to Kathy Castor in the District 1 County Commission Democratic primary, is now tossing his hat — and maybe a bunch of retooled campaign signs — into the City Council ring. Democratic Party strategist Clay Phillips, who has been campaigning for several months, is the early frontrunner in the race to represent South Tampa.

Dingfelder says a city council run was never a fallback plan during his county commission race. He says it never crossed his mind “professionally or politically.”

He attributes a good primary showing, a number of encouraging phone calls, confirmation that he did well in South Tampa precincts and “a desire to continue public service in this (elective) capacity” for the necessary motivation.

Dingfelder says that protection of neighborhoods, stormwater needs, fiscal responsibility and governmental integrity will loom large on his campaign agenda.

“We’re going to pick up where we left off,” he says. “I hope people will see it as a continuation of four months of campaigning. Maybe we’ll just cover over county commission and put in city council on our old signs.”

And, yes, look for his mom to be out and about again gathering petition signatures.