Daring them to do lunch
By Brian McGrory, Boston Globe
October 4, 2005
Times like this, you have to feel bad for Tom Menino.
You know what he's doing now. He's sitting in his big office,
with the picture windows overlooking Quincy Market. He's got
the phone to his ear. He's pounding his fist against his desk,
barking at the unfortunate adviser on the other end of the line:
''Listen to me good: You've got to let me debate!"
I know this is what he's doing, because I know the
mayor. I've known him since his first mayoral campaign, back when
he froze water rates that actually hadn't been expected to rise.
And he was coronated nonetheless.
He's three terms in now, and I know that he knows
that he owes the people who elected him a proud accounting of
all that he's done and a full airing of all that he would like
to do in a fourth term.
Thus I know and you know that the mayor is dying,
virtually dying, to get up and debate his challenger, Maura Hennigan,
at every possible turn. But his persnickety political consultants
and assorted know-it-all aides have somehow convinced him that
the best way to win another term is never to appear in public
for another unscripted moment, until the day after his election.
I know this because if the mayor isn't dying to debate again,
then that means one of two things: Either Menino's afraid to answer
questions about his own record, or Menino's afraid of Hennigan.
Neither one of those could possibly be true, right?
Four years ago, the mayor agreed to precisely one
debate against his challenger. If memory serves, it was a 30-minute
forum, aired on Animal Planet at 3 a.m.
This year, he again agreed to just one televised
debate, the night after the September preliminary campaign, during
a crucial Red Sox game, on Channel 2. If you blinked, you missed
the meat of the campaign season, with six weeks left to the election.
So today I offer the kind of brilliant solution
that I've become famous for, at least in my own mind.
I am hereby inviting Tom Menino and Maura Hennigan to lunch at
Locke-Ober at noon on Wednesday, Oct. 19.
Here's the plan: Tony Accardi, the best maitre d'
in town, will show us to a private dining room upstairs. Menino
and Hennigan will be accompanied by no aides. I will bring only
a tape recorder and a notebook. The legendary Lydia Shire will
serve up lobster bisque, followed by Boston scrod.
Maybe we'll uncork a nice bottle of white wine, nothing too sweet.
The Globe will pick up the bill, though maybe I should verify
that first.
And we'll talk. We'll talk for exactly one hour,
about the mayor's record, about his plans, about Hennigan's record,
about her ideas for change. I'll pose questions to both of them.
They'll ask questions of each other.
If anyone gets out of line, no dessert (house-made
macaroons) for you.
Afterward, I'll write a column about the lunch, as simple as that.
And I'll ask the people at Boston.com to publish a transcript.
Couldn't be easier.
Understood, it would be better if all parties agreed
to a debate carried on all local television stations. If both
parties agree in advance to cameras, I will gladly step aside
for a more telegenic moderator.
Back to the mayor for a moment. Debates are the
lifeblood of any campaign, providing the clearest opportunity
for voters to compare and contrast the candidates in all their
fullness and occasional weakness. Debates should be given the
same pomp and prominence as the annual State of the City address.
Incumbent presidents are forced to endure formal
debates out of respect for voters, as are governors and senators
and pretty much anyone who holds or wants to hold elective office.
Yet Menino, three terms and counting, tries to skate by on the
edge.
I know the mayor well enough to know that he understands and respects
his constituents more than just about any politician I've ever
met, at least I think he does. What I don't know is if he's willing
to express this on Oct. 19.
The invitation was accepted:Reporters
Note