Your Public Best - Lillian Brown [83]
You may find yourself in some very interesting situations—speaking from atop a flatbed truck, climbing in and out of awkward vehicles, standing in front of a symbolic backdrop, or wearing a silly-looking gift hat or sweatshirt.
You will participate in small, medium, and large press conferences. You will speak at innumerable dinners, luncheons, and banquets, and possibly at barbecues, state fairs, local parades, and the like. You will eat the same awful dinner dozens of times and wonder if a certain caterer who is voting for your chief rival is following you around.
You may find yourself giving the same speech four times a day, each time to a slightly different audience. You will learn to tailor your remarks to the interests of each group without changing your basic position on the issues. In one place, you may be cheered; in the next, booed. Your emotional state will range from depression to elation.
During the campaign, you will be surrounded by a welter of advisers, consultants, pollsters, supporters, and fund raisers. You may wonder if you really need all of these people, and why you ever hired so-and-so. You may feel like you’ll never have another minute of peace and privacy again.
Today’s political candidate must spend an inordinate amount of time in fund-raising activities in order to mount a media blitz. Time on television and radio may increase as personal appearances and “press-the-flesh” encounters decrease. Indeed, the power of the media is such that a successful candidate may now appear less and less in public. The phrase “media permutation” means that an obscure challenger who uses the media effectively can become as well known as the incumbent he or she seeks to defeat.
As state governors, both Jimmy Carter and Michael Dukakis were relatively unknown when they became candidates for the presidency. Many voters heard about them for the first time through media reports. Certainly it can be said that the way the media works today—as an integral part of the American political process—contributed greatly to both of their candidacies.
Your media skills are a major key to a successful campaign. You must wear, say, and do the right thing. A pleasant, well-modulated, resonant speaking voice is a great asset. Debating experience, voice lessons, and practicing speaking in public may all help you to acquire vocal excellence. (See chapters two and three.) You will need a versatile, coordinated wardrobe. Your position on major issues, your campaign speeches, and your press releases must be well thought out and carefully crafted in advance.
Before you declare your candidacy, make any necessary changes in your appearance, speech habits, or body language. Once the campaign is under way, it is difficult to explain to the public and the press a change in hair style or color, a new beard, or sudden weight loss, speech lessons, or a facelift. Do such things early on, long before you become a visible part of the media.
As a rule, I’d say that any major changes in your appearance or other aspects of your public persona should be made about two years in advance for a Congressional seat, and four to six years for a Senate or gubernatorial seat. Other campaigns vary with the term of office.
I know a man who plans to run for the U.S. House of Representatives in a couple of years. He has already been advised to consider having his teeth fixed, shaving off his rather bushy mustache, and having the ubiquitous “uhs” in his speech eliminated. By the time the press takes a good look at him as a candidate, the public will only know this new version of him.
Similarly, the time to make a name change is not when you are about to announce your candidacy for public office. If your last name is long, difficult to pronounce, or seems to have more consonants and fewer vowels than most other names, try to make any change you feel will simplify it long before you hit the campaign trail.
Likewise, if you have always been called “Bobby” or “Beth” by everyone, the