DAVID SKOLNICK \ Politics Learning the lingo of the Kerry campaign
The last time U.S. Sen. John Kerry came to the Mahoning Valley, I ended up laid up at home unable to come into the office for six weeks.
I certainly don't blame the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee -- a phrase I've used way too many times in the past few weeks -- for giving me cervical dystonia, a medical condition that twists my neck. [I'm doing better in recent weeks, by the way.]
Back in February, Kerry's campaign had me sitting around for hours waiting for his plane to arrive, stuck me in a motorcade and on the go all day. The stress was too much for me.
I have to admit I was a bit nervous about having to cover his second trip to the Valley while not being in the best of shape.
The local media was "tipped off" by Kerry's staff that he would make an unannounced stop Monday night. But we couldn't say anything or the stop would be canceled. This was kind of amusing because we weren't told where he was going to be.
We were asked to meet at the McDonald's on Salt Springs Road at 6 p.m., and we would be told where we'd go -- it was going to be the nearby Iron Skillet -- to observe Kerry with regular folks. When I arrived, a staffer said the unannounced stop was canceled because Kerry had made four unannounced stops that day and was behind schedule, something he's well-known to be.
What struck me funny was how Kerry's staffers use their own lingo, like carneys. It wasn't called an unannounced stop. It was an "OTR." I wondered if she was speaking a foreign language. Turns out "OTR" is off the record.
So we weren't getting an "OTR," but we were getting a "visual" at the Hampton Inn in Austintown, where Kerry stayed. Again, I had to ask what that meant.
By the way, the "visual" would be at 7 p.m. so we stood for about an hour outside McDonald's, getting looks from workers who wondered why we were in their parking lot.
Turns out a "visual" is worse than an "OTR," although Kerry's staffers made it sound great. A "visual" is a small group of local supporters roped off near one side of the hotel's entrance prompted by campaign staffers to cheer loudly when Kerry arrived with the media roped off near the other side. All we got was a quick look -- or a visual; at least some of their lingo makes sense -- at Kerry.
Kerry shook hands, and then went inside when it started to rain. That was it for Monday.
Kerry's staffers wanted the media at the event location at 7:30 a.m. Tuesday for an event that wasn't supposed to start until 10 a.m. I told his campaign workers that they wouldn't see me until about 9 a.m. They warned me that I might have trouble getting in. I got inside the press area in less than five minutes.
Of course, Kerry was behind schedule even though the rally was the first event on his schedule. When his bus pulled onto West Federal Plaza, U2's "Pride (In the Name of Love)" played; a song honoring Martin Luther King Jr. When Kerry got on stage, Tina Turner's "Simply the Best" played.
The only songs missing were Carly Simon's "Nobody Does It Better," Ringo Starr's "I Am the Greatest," and Mac Davis' "It's Hard to Be Humble."
Standing behind Kerry while he spoke were about 100 people, mostly local politicians and union officials. I guess all you had to do was ask to get on stage. Some of those up there were minor elected officials from Trumbull County cities, members of the Green Team, and ex-politicians.
You didn't even have to be a Democrat. Judge R. Scott Krichbaum of Mahoning County Common Pleas Court, a registered Republican, was up there at the invitation of Mahoning Democratic officials. The judge, who was impressed with Kerry, said he couldn't turn down a rare opportunity to be that close to a presidential candidate.
I have to admit the Kerry campaign staff took good care of me, even with all the odd occurrences I've mentioned.
I'll leave you with the my final experience at the rally and let you decide if it was a compliment or a way to get me out of town.
During the speech, a Kerry staffer said the campaign wanted me to get on the bus with Kerry and a few Youngstown supporters on the way to Cleveland. I'd be allowed to eavesdrop on the conversation.
It sounded intriguing, so I asked a few questions. "How would I get back from Cleveland?" The response was I wasn't going to Cleveland. I would be on the bus for about 45 minutes, then they would let me off, and I could call someone for a ride.
I simply said, "No thanks" to the offer.