Reality State of the State

by Tim Skubick
February 12, 2010

If someone could finagle a way to collect it, we could eradicate the $1.8-billion state deficit the governor has unveiled. Just collect a dime for every time the word “change” is mentioned in the race for governor this year.

Every election features a plethora of candidates (except the incumbents, of course) belly aching for change. That never changes.

Mr. Obama did it in 2008 with his “Change You Can Believe In,” and all the Ds and Rs fixin’ to replace Gov. Jennifer Granholm have already finely tuned their “change” mantra. The only guy who was not going to run on that platform is now on the sidelines licking his wounds. Name: Lt. Gov. John Cherry.

2010 will be the year of change. There will be a new governor. There could be a new constitution. There will be a brand new state Senate with at least 30 new senators, and who knows what the Michigan House will look like as change sweeps through it.

Last week we witnessed a slice of history that itself needs to be changed: the governor’s State of the State Address. It has basically remained unchanged for as long as anyone can recall. In fact, the only alteration came when Jim Blanchard was elected governor and the speech moved from 11 a.m., when nobody saw it, to 7 p.m., when the statewide television audience was first created.

Gov. Jennifer Granholm delivered her final SOS and, with a new governor coming to town, this is the logical juncture to revamp this outdated form of communication and create something that will grab and keep the public’s attention.

Try this on for size: the governor gets 30 minutes to deliver the speech. Just like the old format, it is unedited and allows the governor to speak directly to the folks at home without a media filter. It’s a tradition that should be retained.

But for the next 30 minutes, the governor chucks the teleprompter and takes questions from the assembled House and Senate members from both sides of the aisle.

Obviously, this is not a new notion. President Obama waded into the lion’s den the other day and took an hour of hardballs from the House GOP conference in Congress. It was riveting stuff and was good for both the prez and the Rs.

Of course, the British have been doing this for years as the Prime Minister gets a weekly going over in the House of Commons across the pond.

Ms. Granholm would have been the perfect governor/host to inaugurate such a dramatic change. And it would have given her a chance to hang onto her TV audience. Traditionally, by the 45-minute mark of the typical SOS message, the TV-radio audience gets antsy and goes hunting for a game show or one of those “insightful” cable offerings.

They would stay for an unscripted SOS reality show.

And even though the next governor may not possess Granholm’s style and verve, it is still a challenge he or she should risk. The governor could get high marks for taking the questions and performing under fire.

Yes, it is tampering with tradition. But if the next governor is boasting about wanting change, this would be a great starting point to prove he or she is sincere about it.

Tim Skubick is Michigan’s Senior Capitol correspondent and has anchored the weekly public TV series “Off the Record” since 1972. He also covers the Capitol and politics for WLNS-TV6 in Lansing.

Tim Skubick Extra Extra… (A weekly bonus only for Dome readers)

Nerd is the Word
Say what you will about the Rick Michigan campaign, but either these guys are pasa-tootly geniuses or absolutely clueless on how to elect this guy governor.

For the second time this election season, the Snyder crew has broken the mold. It is doing just the opposite of what the political manual suggests.

Last June they trotted out the Ann Arbor tie-less business guy who had no name recognition, and they introduced him with the sign Rick for Michigan. Only the preposition was so tiny that it looked like Rick Snyder’s name was really Rick Michigan.

The primer on building name identification with the voters suggests you use THE GUY’S RIGHT NAME.

It was such an obvious miscue, as noted in this space, that it defied explanation. But turns out the Snyder crew made no mistake; they did it on purpose. (Maybe he will change his legal name to Rick Michigan later on in the campaign.)

That was last June, and now the Snyder boys are at it again as they once more defy political logic, cast caution to the wind and go on the tube with an introductory commercial in which the candidate says, “It’s time for a nerd” to be governor and Snyder is just the nerd to do it.

What were these guys smoking?

And when challenged that perhaps having a nerdy governor was not high on the want list of Michigan voters, the campaign called it a condescending assertion.

Condescending? This is Michigan: a shot and a beer, sports loving, anti-elitist mass of men and women, very few of whom aspire to be a nerd or have one as a friend, let alone governor.

Pollster Bernie Porn, who knows a nerd when he sees one, suggests it’s the wrong label to use on a guy whom nobody knows and may not want to know since he is, after all, not one of us.

The campaign confidently explains this was an attempt at self-deprecation…or did they mean self-desecration?

But maybe these hot shots know something the rest of Michigan does not. After all, Snyder hails from Ann Arbor. Nuf said.

By defying conventional wisdom, the candidate has set into motion one of the most historic campaigns in modern history. If Rick Michigan, the nerd, gets elected governor, he can gloriously say, “Told ya so!”

If he doesn’t, however, he should ask for his money back from his supposed inner circle of political wise guys who sold him down the river.

Cat and Mouse Politics
There’s a silly little game that politicians and political correspondents play from time to time. It’s I-know-something-that-I-know-you-know-but-I’m-still-not-going-to-tell-you.

The latest persona to play is Lansing Mayor Virg Bernero.

He was in Detroit last Friday night attending a cattle call put on by the Michigan Education Association, which invited all the potential candidates for governor to meet at the Marriott Hotel.

With his elementary school principal spouse at his side, Bernero waded into the crowd pressing the flesh, smiling for the cameras and doing all the other stuff a candidate for governor would do.

But when it came time to appear on camera to talk about his decision, Bernero, like others before him, suddenly lost his ability to tell it like it is.

So you are announcing on Monday you are running for governor?

“I’ll have an announcement on Monday,” began his song and dance.

Well, if you were not running, why would you be here on a Friday night when you could be home?

“I have not been compared to the other candidates, and this is a chance to do that. Maybe I will bomb here,” he said, as his nose began to grow ever so slightly.

Your website says, “I’m running for governor.”

“You know how campaigns make mistakes.” His nose grew even longer, and on and on the game went for about two minutes.

Finally, he gave a little ground.

You are 90 percent there?

“That’s a fair statement,” the mayor reflected.

And on Monday you’ll be 100 percent there?

“I hope so,” he observed.

See how stilly this stuff is. It underscores how most politicians want to control their own agenda, and understandably so. But come on, all he had to do was look in the camera and say, “Off the record, I’m running for governor.”

On the record he said it in Detroit, Grand Rapids and his hometown on Monday.