What I Saw at the SD38 Convention
On Saturday I went to a BPOU convention for the first time. It was an interesting experience in democratic self-governance. Here, in rough chronological order, is what I saw at the convention.
The District
I went in part to see what it was all about and in part to support one of four candidates seeking the Republican endorsement for Senate District 38, which includes Eagan and a portion of Burnsville. This district, which is the home of Republican Governor Tim Pawlenty, who came thisclose to being the Republican nominee for vice president of the United States, was once a red-red-red district, represented in the Minnesota House by Tim Wilkin (38A) and Lynn Wardlow (38B) and in the Senate by Mike McGinn. During the George W. Bush presidency, however, it flipped entirely to the DFL. (Miss me yet? Not so much.)
Who's here and why?
Signs, signs, everywhere signs. I saw lots of signs for various candidates as I pulled up in the driveway to the parking lot of the school where we held our convention. More were pasted on the outside of the building. I heard one fellow delegate, asking another was the three of us walked into the building, asked “Do you think these signs change anyone’s mind?” “No,” came the reply. So it made me wonder, what’s the purpose of those signs? Do demonstrate “Hey, we’ve got money to spend?” Do undecided delegates really say “Well I thought of going with Olson but I really like Olsen’s sign better, so I’ll go with him?”
Once I got in the building there were many more signs … and lit pieces … and (from one candidate) free tootsie rolls. Another was giving out t-shirts. I took one of those, but he was going to be my candidate anyway.
I know who I am, but what about you? I wondered if the party that endorses a photo ID requirement for government elections would impose it for its own election. The answer? No, at least not today.
I can’t see you. The credentials committee had the chore of tallying the number of seated delegates and alternates for each precinct. I give them credit for their hard work, but I question the wisdom of the decision to try to project the relevant Excel worksheet onto a large screen in the front of the room. I couldn’t see anything.
Is this a church meeting or a convention? Once the meeting got going, someone offered an invocation. A very specifically Christian invocation. Why? I’m all for Christian churches helping their people think about spiritual principles that might be applied to politics, and for government respecting the free exercise of religion in the public square. Doubtless, many people of all political persuasions get involved in campaigns because their faith compels them, directly or indirectly, to act. Great. But just as a religious body loses its way if it becomes merely the adjunct of a political party, a political party is at peril if it becomes a religious body in a different arena. If, for example, I were an atheist, Buddhist, Hindu, Jew, or Muslim, and attending this convention, my sense would be “Why would I want to participate in a political party that appears to be explicitly Christian?” Actually, as a Christian I’m not so keen on participating in a political party that’s overly Christian. To slightly backtrack, the invocation is the only place where I heard “religious talk.” But again, is it necessary in the context of a political party?
From the halls of Montezuma. You couldn’t walk the length of an American flag without meeting a military veteran, the most prominent of which was Rep. John Kline, a retired Marine. He got two standing ovations—once when entering, and once when leaving. His best line: “This year, we have a chance to retire Nancy Pelosi.” That’s optimism.
The governor's office, the auditor's shop, and the co-op
The governators. Two minor and two major candidates spoke to us. Bill Haas called for auditing all state agencies. Sure, why not. I think Bill Herwig made an appearance as well. But what about the two heavyweights?
The chairman of the convention said, at one point, something like “and if I pronounced your name wrong, you’re not campaigning hard enough.” Odd, then, that he referred to the representative from Delano as “Tom Emmers.”
Emmer(s), who spoke fairly on, had a good sense of humor, and cited his family and business experience. He appears confident and relaxed.
Marty Seifert spoke some time later. He gave what may be my favorite line of the day: “Let’s not be a colder and smaller California.” He also said,“We can’t win with just Republicans,” which is either smart general election politics or bad endorsement-season politics. If Emmer was cool, Seifert was on fire.
Support your minor league players. Two men who spoke did so as candidates for Dakota Electric, a co-op that serves much of the district. I thought it odd to have candidates for a private business speak, but there was little harm done.
Here comes the judge. Someone else spoke about the need to have election judges and poll watchers. I served as an election judge. Once. I was sick for three days aftewards, and not merely because of the results.
Who’s your auditor? We had at least three candidates speak, at various times, for state auditor, even though we were not going to give an endorsement for that office. Pat Anderson, who once held the office, spoke to the BPOU that launched her statewide career. Tom Conlon, at one time the only Republican elected official in Saint Paul (now there are none), did a good job explaining what the office does. (Anderson may have as well, but I missed her speech.) Randy Gilbert, in a dig at Anderson, said something like “I made up my mind to run a long time ago. I wasn’t waiting for Norm Coleman to make up his mind.” I thought that was simply classless.
The Endorsement Process for the Legislature
Four candidates, one endorsement. Next up was the process of endorsing a candidate for state Senate. The first candidate drawn by lot, was Ted Daley, “my” guy. He’s got an alphabet soup of qualifications, which he cited: Graduate of USMA, has the CPA designation, earned an MBA, works as a CFO. Speaking of his work in Iraq, he reminded us that people have a natural ingenuity to create jobs. On health care, he said there is no single-bullet to fixing health care [true!], but single-payer, pushed by the current senator, is bad. He calls the senator “Job-Killer Jim” several times.
Next to speak is David Carlson. He’s been working this campaign for a long time, perhaps shortly after he lost an election in 2008 for a House seat in Saint Paul. A Marine with combat experience in Iraq, this young man (28 or 29) brought several military endorsements with him. He said Republicans need to work social media. He’s right, and he’s done it. But as the vote totals reveal (more later), that wasn’t enough. Neither was an endorsement, prominently displayed in his literature, from favorite son Tim Pawlenty.
The next candidate, Mike Kaess, is introduced by yet another Marine, one with combat experience in Vietnam. Kaess was the only candidate (that I remember) who gave specific numbers on the state of the state budget. He said we need to make large cuts, and even eliminate programs. He didn’t spare the schools.
Finally, Robert Lambert, another young guy (like David Carlson) was introduced. He gave a shout out to other candidates. I liked that move. He used a preaching style of speaking, repeating, several times interspersing, “my voice will rise like your voice” as he listed the challenges facing the next legislature. He has the most campaign experience of any of the candidates, having worked for Gil Gutnick, the former member of Congress from the first district. He was the only candidate to not have some military connection.
Then it was time for balloting. I had figured (and heard) that it would be a two-man race between Daley and Kaess. I was surprised that Daley such a large early lead, with nearly 44 percent of the ballots. Carlson, who has been working the campaign far longer than anyone else, came up with only 11 percent of the vote, with Lambert and Kaess, each with a respectable showing, split the balance. A second ballot was inconclusive, though Daley gained support, mostly at Carlson’s expense. Carlson, who drops below 10 percent, is excluded from the third ballot, according to the rules. Daley gained ground on the third ballot. I think we took a fourth as well, but before those results were announced, Lambert suggested and Kaess seconded a motion to endorse Daley by acclimation. The motion carried without dissent.
The House Race(s). For the House seat in 38B, the one candidate was Doug Wardlow, son of the one-time representative Lynn Wardlow, who was taken out in the Great Republican Massacre of 2006. I've heard him speak before, and he talks a more conservative tone than his father did.
In 38A, Diane Anderson came up short against Sandra Masin in 2008, though she points out that he earned more votes than Norm Coleman or John McCain. She was running smoothly for a rematch until Frank Crusing, who recently moved into the district, opted to seek the endorsement. He made a splash but when the voting came, it was no contest. Actually, it was no contest even before the ballots were marked, as it seemed like at least half the 38A delegation stood on stage with Anderson as she gave her speech. She won on the first ballot with 75 percent of the votes.
Let me count the ways. I served as a teller during three ballot counts. It’s interesting to get an inside scoop before everyone else, but I knew that the four precincts I counted (or verified) don’t necessarily reflect the BPOU as a whole. The precinct captain asked if I would be willing to serve for the counting of the ballots for the CD delegates (roughly 70 candidates for 30 slots). I begged off but told her I would vote for her if she worked the count. I told the precinct convener the same thing, and they both agreed. I momentarily thought of standing for the CD convention but decided the time commitment would exceed my interest.
.Resolutions and the Problem with the Platform
You say you want a resolution? As I paged through the packet we all received upon registration, I saw what I had dreaded: Page after page of the party platform, with changes that had been suggested during caucus night.
Why did I dread this, aside from the obvious time sink? First, it meant listening to people talk about items that are of marginal interest, at best, to a state party: the federal budget, the federal tax code, federal agencies, and foreign policy.
Second, some of the proposed changes are simply bad. One proposal was to repeal the federal income tax “and replace it with nothing.” Given the dynamics of Washington, that would lead to more deficit spending and thus (perhaps) hyperinflation. The measure narrowly failed, and I noticed a delegate in front of me shake his head. Another measure called for the “separation of school and state.” I rise and speak against the resolution, pointing out that the public-good argument for taxpayer funding of schooling is very strong. This is not, I continued, mean that government needs to actually run all schools. Indeed, we would be better off giving people vouchers or tuition tax credits, and let parents choose from among privately run schools and government schools. A defender of the resolution came after me, saying, in part, “we need vouchers.” Of course that’s a rejection, not an extension, of the “separation of school and state” argument. The resolution fails, narrowly.
A third problem with the resolutions is that some are simply redundant. There were two resolutions on term limits (again, on the federal level), with specific numbers on years and terms. A third simply says something like “Heck they ought to just go home,” which is a spurt of outrage more than anything.
Even though it wasn’t 2008, I did see some Ron Paul-style activists at work. I missed the discussion a resolution to “abolish the Federal Reserve Board and allow free enterprise money and banking.” Unfortunately, I think that one passed. (Just now I noticed another sentence—tell me this is NOT in the platform already, please—“Opposing any movement toward a North American Union including any NAFTA superhighway.”)
Finally, the document is simply too long. As I told several people, God had 10 commandments; why should a political party have a 17-page (or whatever) platform? At that length, the platform becomes not the statement of general principles that it should be but an internal version of the “Christmas tree” bills, passed by Congress and Legislature alike, that Republicans say they abhor. A paragraph here, a sentence there, many an article in the present platform is an attempt to buy off the support of certain factions in the party. (Maybe I should offer a resolution to abolish the platform and start over, and limit it to 100 words!)
Anyone who says “I support the platform in its entirety”(as some delegates did) is simply not thinking. It’s extremely unlikely that any single person, after reading the document with a set of principles (any principles, really) would just happen to agree with each sentence. Activists who say that officeholders must “adhere to the party platform,” speak nonsense.

