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"Scam" ads the norm Trail Mix: Hillary haters spam cyberspace Gunning for the center Democrats make Hillary legit The blundering pundit Don Giuliani Campaign video: |
Night in pink satin | page 1, 2, 3 Additionally, Gore remembers a Carthage, Tenn., movie theater where "the African-Americans sat in the balcony. They had a separate entrance. The law didn't require that, but the social custom when I was young was quite strong." It's tough to imagine Bush in such a setting for oh-so-many reasons, not just because it's hard picturing him speaking easily about Plessy, a Supreme Court decision -- which codified the concept of "separate but equal" -- acknowledged as a bad one. Nor just because Bush's main connection to black Americans seems only to be portrayed in photographs of him among cute young ones. The real difficulty is trying to picture Bush's handlers letting him have a 45-minute, somewhat improvised conversation about any subject, even among high schoolers. Miss Brennan asks the class why President Dwight Eisenhower had such a "bipolar" record on civil rights. "Because he was elected by the Southern states," says one girl, "and he had Southern friends who got him into office."
But Gore nods most tellingly when a boy remarks that much of the racial turmoil of the Eisenhower era came before he was reelected. "That's a very sophisticated point," Gore says. Miss Brennan later tells me that in past discussions of the integration of the armed forces she has raised the issue of gays in the military. But that point goes unmentioned today. I would have brought it up, but Gore takes questions from only a few select reporters today -- namely those from "Ramparts." His favorite extracurricular activities in high school, they uncover, were basketball, football, track and art. But "Ramparts" won't feed the beast, so Gore ducks into the principal's office and gets on the phone with Mark Halperin of Political Points, the webcast of ABC News/New York Times, to further take Bush to task on the National Rifle Association. Gore has been on the defensive for much of the past two months, but a comment made public this week by Kayne Robinson, a top official of the NRA, that if Bush is elected, "we'll have a president ... where we work out of their office," has put the spring back in Gore's step. As governor, Bush did much to stand in the way of localities being able to sue firearms manufacturers. Would he do the same as president? Gore asks. "If I'm entrusted with the presidency, I will veto any bill like the one Governor Bush signed ... I challenge Governor Bush to make the same pledge. Will he veto any bill that lets gun manufacturers off the hook? Will he fight for the gun industry or for America's families?" In San Diego, Bush responds that "it depends on what's in the legislation," and says, "What I did in office was sign a bill that made it very difficult for local municipalities to sue manufacturers of a legal product." Bush then repeats a completely unsubstantiated claim -- the kind known outside the world of politics as a "lie" -- that Gore once was a member of the NRA. When asked where he got such information, Bush responds, "A little birdie." Hearing Bush's response while at Holt High School, Lehane wets his finger and makes a "score" mark in the air. Not only does the gun subject bode well for Gore, and put Bush on the defensive, but by lying about Gore's NRA membership, Bush isn't exactly shoring up his credentials as the more credible of the two candidates. And all of this before 11 a.m. Next up is pepperoni pizza and fries with six more carefully gleaned kids. (Gore must be off that Atkins Diet.) Boom mikes hang while reporters' ears perk up to catch snippets of conversation. "How does the basketball draft work? ... Marine Corps Marathon ... dad was in politics ... in the Army ... we were at war ... in one school they used me in an exhibit and they made me feel really old ... three daughters ..." Amid the pool of lunching young white achievers is a 17-year-old black kid, Derrick Hawthorne, president of the Multicultural Club and member of the basketball team and drama club. He says he has lost friends to gun violence. He also says that, unlike his fellow senior at the lunch bench, Clair Morrissey, who's heading to the University of Michigan's honors program next year, he'll be at Lansing Community College. He wants to ask Gore about making college more affordable, but he doesn't seem to get up the gumption to ask a question. After Gore downs his meal, a more formal and substantive -- though no less staged -- conversation with teachers, parents and students follows. Gore handles all the questions with wonky authority, and everyone seems delighted. Then it's off to the football field for the closing pep rally. But first, another pit stop. Gore gives ABC News a visual of the earlier sound bite. I can't get to Gore -- few of us can these days -- so I grab Lehane. Lehane loves this new scrap about guns. "W. seems to think that this is a frat party," Lehane says. "Run, wander around, slap some people on the back and don't have any difficult discussion on the issues. But it's not like that. Nor should it be." Lehane distinguishes between Gore's attacks against Bush and Bush's against Gore. "Bush has made it personal. All of our discussions are predicated on substance; his aren't." Lehane says Bush should "act like a real Texan and debate Al Gore." The bleachers are filled, the baton twirlers twirl, the student body president is lauding the "transformation" of a formerly apathetic high school "to a school that's, like, politically aware." Gore jumps to center stage and offers "a word of good luck to the women's soccer team," who will be playing that night "under the lights." Then: Substance. The baby boomers benefited from the investment in education that "the World War II generation" made, Gore says. Now Generation Y, the biggest baby boom in this country ever, needs the same thing. That baby boom is "why you've got some crowding in the hallways," Gore says. "Some?" the students mutter. "Yeah, right," Gore says sarcastically, oddly, forever unhip, totally dadlike. "Right now we need to make the same kind of investment." He rushes through a politician's laundry list of programs: preschool, affordable education, etc. Then he's off to downtown Lansing to the Michigan Education Association to give his speech; to Pennsylvania, where he'll speak at the Democratic Senate Issues Retreat; then back to D.C., where he'll prepare for next week's school day in Los Angeles. "I will always remember my visit here," Gore says. With that, he's outta there. And the bell rings.
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