Who is Warner Lane?“ President Washman asked. He stood among classroom desks, a flag hung in the background. ”Is he a man we can trust with the welfare of our country? And the future of our children? His voting record in the Senate shows that he’s cut spending on education, raised taxes, and invested in projects his own state didn’t want. Does Warner Lane tell it like it is? Or does he tell you what you want to hear?“
Nick turned off the television. “This ad campaign is focused on Warner’s first term, but the average voter won’t know that. In a nutshell, he’s hurting us. We’ve got to fight back hard. Washman can be beaten, but as the incumbent he’s got the advantage.”
The consultants, campaign managers, staff, Carolyn and Warner Lane, and Richard Young all sat in on the strategy session.
Nick stood with his hands resting on the back of the chair. “Andrea Walden feels strongly that Warner should appear on some of the top pop culture talk shows like ‘Late Night’ to appeal to the younger, more hip crowd. Other politicians have done it in the past with great success.”
Andrea Walden, the media consultant, sat apart from the rest of the people gathered around the conference. Chain-smoking, she resembled an inscrutable chimney.
“This afternoon we’re filming the television spots with Warner, Richard, and Carolyn. We’ll follow the same layout as the ads from the primaries, except this time Warner and Richard will be together, superimposed over Carolyn in the courtroom for crime, industrial cleanup for the environment, etcetera.”
Nick gestured across the table at Dave Willis, one of the campaign managers. “Dave believes that if we get back to basics and utilize a grass roots type of approach, we’ll be viewed in sharp contrast to the ivory tower image of the Washman ticket.”
“What do you have in mind?” Richard Young asked.
“Actually we want to revitalize an old method. A tour blitz with a hometown angle,” Dave explained, “I’ve got it mapped out. We can do fifty cities in thirty days. We charter a few planes, take along the press, and we go out and meet the people. Face to face. Both you and Warner excel at this approach, so lets use it to our best advantage.”
“What’s the hometown angle?” Carolyn asked.
Nick smiled. “We fly into metropolitan areas, but drive out to the suburbs and throw big community picnics in the parks. The press will eat it up, no pun intended.”
Carolyn laughed. “I can see that.” She glanced down the length of the table, meeting Dave Willis’s gaze. “Good job. Dave. This is an excellent vehicle for Warner’s and Richard’s styles.”
“Let’s not forget yours.” Nick reminded her. “We’re going to have you stumping with them.”
“All right.” Carolyn started making notes. “Why don’t you get Braunson on the line, Nick? We’ll want polls on everything. We need to know exactly what the American people want. Have him do the polls constantly, so we can adapt as the trends change. We’ll review his data every day, and that will keep us up to date on what our positions should be. Matt, you’ll want to call the Secret Service and notify them of our itinerary.”
Without preamble or a fancy introduction, the hometown boy, Warner Hamilton Lane, strode onto a small stage in the town square of Medina, Ohio and greeted the masses like a rock star at a conceit. “Good evening, Medina!”
A roar went up from the crowd, which was packed for a three-block radius.
Upturned faces carpeted Warner’s field of vision. “I love this town-” he stalled, only to be interrupted by another roar. “Medina is an example of the United States at its best. A beautiful town full of hard working, law abiding citizens. Citizens who raise America’s future leaders. I grew up in a town like this, a town where you could walk the sheets at night without concern. But times have changed. Thieves, gangs, and drug dealers lurk in the shadows of America’s finest communities. Well. I say. ‘enough!’ It’s time to take back our neighborhoods. It’s time to take back our lives – our freedom. And I’m ready to lead that fight!”
The crowd cheered.
Richard and his wife, Dixie, joined Warner on stage. Warner shook Richard’s hand and hugged Dixie. Like a tag team member, Richard picked up the speech where Warn rt left off. “We must direct our energy to fight those who cut funding for our police forces, the programs for our youth, and those who cater to the underworld with soft prison sentences and lenient laws…”
Their remarks, which focused on their dream for America, their goals, and their plans for attaining them, continued for forty-five minutes. Technically, the speech should have lasted thirty minutes, but breaks for applause and chanting stretched the time.
Then Warner joined in. “Now, please let me have the honor of introducing the real headliner for the evening. Our very own one woman war on drugs, my partner, my wife – Carolyn Alden Lane.”
